Lunar Whisper set off down the river an hour later, and their chase for Wang Yonghao was on again, the speedy yacht quickly making up for lost time. Privately, Wu Lanhua told her that her own business had concluded - they would deliver Qian Shanyi where she had to go, and then return to Xiaohongshan.
The next three days have passed in a blur. She trained, she visited the local libraries for research, and she experimented with cooking back on the ship. She finished altering the needle control technique - it only required another night full of algebra to find the small errors she made, and a pair of tests that found some more - but by now, she was already starting to practice her control.
Her research into luck and the heavens had reached something of a dead end. This wasn’t that unexpected - all the remaining towns between her and Wang Yonghao were small ones, and their libraries only held the most generic of books - but disappointing nonetheless.
Once she ran dry, she moved her research in the direction of taxation, and how they could form their own sect - after all, once she caught up with Wang Yonghao, the next challenge would be selling off his treasury, and she wasn’t about to pay those ridiculous loose cultivator taxes. The rules varied greatly based on what the sect intended to do, but at minimum, it needed to consist of ten cultivators and twice that many outer disciples, a sect compound of a certain size, and a negotiated taxation agreement with the empire - all of which seemed securely out of reach.
It was, ironically, a lot easier to get recognition for a sect branch from outside the empire than to register a new one within it. At the very least, that did not require her to prove a minimum number of members, or to have a sect compound - but proving her sect already existed was a challenge in itself, seeing how in fact it did not, and her word would not suffice. Something to think about, in any case.
Far, far more troubling was the heavenly vow in her mind. It would grow angry whenever they stopped in any town to resupply, wanting her to push on to Yonghao at the highest speed, aching at the edge of her awareness like the threat of a migraine, or a worm wriggling between the teeth of her mind. Whenever they set off again, it would quiet down, but over the last couple days this feeling stopped receding, and changed, from sharp, distinct spikes of wrongness to a vague slathering of mistrust.
Her best guess was that the vow was simply beginning to fray - whatever understanding she had with the Heavens, whatever trust they put in her, they were losing it. She needed to get to Wang Yonghao soon, or else she would be in much deeper shit than ever before.
She didn’t know what ticked the heavens off. The vow was still fine after her argument with Liu Fakuang, and even though it kept stabbing her through her thoughts all throughout the duel, it still quieted down afterwards. Perhaps it wasn’t even anything she did, but merely one of the angels going over her past records, and finally noticing something out of place.
That was how Wu Lanhua found her on the front deck of the ship, with the sun high up in the sky, leaning against the railing and despairing about her life, tapping her scroll case against her shoulder.
“Lan Yishan!” she said, coming up behind her, “I was starting to think you were a figment of my imagination, or perhaps a spirit only appearing at lunchtime.”
“What?” She turned to her, scandalized.
“You hardly ever leave your room, always busy with a book or a sword.” Wu Lanhua shook her head. “It is strange to see you simply relax.”
“I relax plenty.” she crossed her arms on her chest, “It is just that I have a lot on my plate.”
“In your sleep, perhaps?” Wu Lanhua laughed. ”Come up to me and Fakuang sometime, let us talk - or we could play a game if that is your fancy. I see that your plate has finally cleared up?”
She squinted at Wu Lanhua.
“...I was thinking of training my control over my flying sword in the wind, until we reach the next town,” she finally admitted.
“Lake of Peace, was it?” Wu Lanhua shook her head ruefully, “Well, do not wait on my account. If you’d like to practice, then do so. You could still talk, I hope?”
“I could,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you afraid for your safety? This technique was exploding merely a couple days ago, after all.”
“My Fakuang assured me it is safe.” She waved her off. “Something about a stable flow of spiritual energy. You do not strike me as someone who takes entirely needless risks, so if you are practicing without a shield, then I do not think I need one either.”
Qian Shanyi snorted, but unclipped her sword sheath from her belt.
She held it away from her body, and poured spiritual energy into it, circulating it in the pattern she had calculated, and then practiced for hours until she could get it right every time - as long as she was not rushing. It would take many weeks of constant practice for it to burn itself into her meridians and become truly instinctual, but for now, it was good enough.
The spiritual energy caught on the metal blade within the sheath and spun together into the complex structure of jets, wings, and control elements. The power inside grew, burning her hand with the acrid blasts from the invisible jets that would propel the sword forwards. When the metal itself started to hum from repressed vibrations, she folded her other hand into the shape of the control sigil, and the sword launched itself into the air with a soft clap of released air. Invisible wings unfurled themselves in full, stabilizing it twenty meters ahead of the ship, easily keeping pace. A thin rope line, tied to the sword hilt, stretched back to her - just in case she lost control over the technique entirely, and the sword fell into the water.
“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked, sending the sword through a series of aerial maneuvers by changing the position of her controlling hand. The technique could be manipulated with your mind alone, but that was harder, and the manual suggested learning it step by step.
“I’ve asked my Fakuang about this vow of yours, and what would happen if you fail to fulfill it,” Wu Lanhua said, leaning over the railing and watching her sword dance in the air.
“I wouldn’t fail,” she said, automatically. As if there was any other answer she could give, with the Heavens still watching.
“Quite confident.”
“I am a confident woman.”
“Is that why you spend so much time working?” Wu Lanhua said, “Because you want to be sure you will fulfill it?”
“The vow is a part of it,” Qian Shanyi said, letting the double meaning drift in the air, “but no, I have always cultivated hard.”
“But why?”
“Why not?” She raised an eyebrow. “I like cultivation. I always dreamed of being a cultivator, and my many frustrations aside, it’s every bit as satisfying as I have always imagined. And now, I even have a flying sword. Watch!”
She turned her sword around, sending it back towards the ship at the highest speed she could safely manage, and leaped up into the air. Her fingers closed over the hilt just as it whistled past her, and she released the technique before it could rip the skin off her palms, letting the momentum flip her over her head, and landed back on the deck with a gentle spin.
“Isn’t this amazing?” She grinned, turning back to Wu Lanhua. “Why would I need another reason?”
“I see,” Wu Lanhua said, clearly not impressed by her acrobatics, and so she sheathed her sword and walked back to the railing.
“I only wish it was powerful enough to carry me through the sky,” Qian Shanyi said, shaking her head, “but sadly not. But now that you are here, Lanhua, perhaps you could help me.”
She took the scroll case off her back and unrolled the map of the region, pointing to a pair of towns on opposite sides of a long, narrow valley stretching from the mountains. The river they were on passed a good distance away from them, separated by a wide forest, before making a U-turn and doubling back.
“I need to get here - to Reflection Ridge or Glaze Ridge, whichever one is easiest,” she said, pointing to each of the towns, “as you can see, Lake of Peace is the closest spot to them, but still a good distance away. The next closest spot is a good two days of travel away from us.”
Based on her tracking, Wang Yonghao had traveled from Lake of Peace to Reflection Ridge just a few days ago - but he could have simply walked through the air, above all the dangers of a forest.
“Certainly,” Wu Lanhua said, “what of it?”
“Do you think there might be a path between Lake of Peace and Reflection Ridge?” she asked with hope in her voice, “if only I could get there faster…”
Wu Lanhua shook her head, breaking her hope on the spot.
“I know these towns - there is no such road.”
“You know them?”
“Perhaps I should be clearer.” Wu Lanhua frowned, “I have never visited them, but I know they manufacture lenses for the telegraphs that the Flowing Scarlet River sect is building all over the place. Perhaps you’ve seen the towers? We passed a couple on our way here.”
Qian Shanyi frowned. She dimly remembered something of that nature.
“But if you have never been in person…” she began.
“Nor would anybody build one through a forest, Yishan,” Wu Lanhua shook her head, “it simply does not make any economic sense to do so, when you could travel by the river and only lose a couple days. Roads are expensive, slow, hard to maintain and keep safe from demon beasts, and difficult to transport goods over, because of course you still have to feed your pack animals. Rivers are none of those things. Hunting paths - perhaps - but a road, with someone willing to transport you, almost certainly not.”
Qian Shanyi pursed her lips in disappointment. She wasn’t sure she could afford to wait two days, with her vow fraying as rapidly as it already was.
“If you do not believe me,” Wu Lanhua continued, “you could ask the postmaster in Lake of Peace. Perhaps there is something unusual here, but do not get your hopes up.”
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“There really aren’t any roads there,” the Lake of Peace postmaster shook his head when she showed him the map, “pretty much nothing there, in fact. Not even a hunting lodge.”
“And so no way to pass through?“ She sighed, rolling the paper back up. Too much to hope for, she supposed.
“You can pass through, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said, “it’s easy to get lost, and that forest is dangerous right now. We had an attack from a mushroom spirit just a few days ago - you can still see the rampant growths at the edge of the town. Although, one of the loose cultivators who helped us protect the town headed in that direction right after, so I suppose it’s your choice.”
“Did he say what his name was?” She raised her eyebrow.
“Wang something. I think it started with Yo?”
“Yonghao?”
“That’s it.” Postmaster snapped his fingers. “Do you know him?”
“Shared friends, I suppose,” she said. It was nice to have a confirmation that did not depend on luck, but without a way to quickly reach the other town, it was pointless to even try. On foot across a dense forest, she could never catch up to Wang Yonghao, who could walk above the treetops whenever he wanted to.
She packed up the map in her scroll case, and headed for the doors.
“Actually,” he called after her, and she turned back with a questioning look, “there is a postrunner who brought some mail from Reflection Ridge not too long ago. He may still be in a tavern close by, playing music - you could ask him how he did it. I think his name was Hui Yin - short, wearing white robes.”
“Thanks for the advice,” she nodded, and walked out the door.
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She heard Hui Yin before she saw him. The strange, droning sound filled the tavern, coming from a foreign instrument in his hands - shaped like a string instrument, but with a handle on the side he spun with one hand, and an array of switches he pressed with another, changing the notes. The strings, such as they were, were spread all around it, though hard to see behind a painted wooden cover.
Hui Yin was, true to his description, short - a good two heads shorter than her, in fact. The cut of his robes was tight - fit for travel or grappling, if somewhat unfashionable. A wooden circlet, sitting low on his forehead, just above his eyes, kept the hair out of his face as he played.
She settled down to wait for him to finish, and ordered a kettle of tea. The Lunar Whisper needed to unload some trade goods, so she had some time to spare.
When he finished his performance, he went around the room accepting small tips from other customers, and she motioned him over to her.
“Hui Yin?” she said, handing him a whole silver yuan, “Postmaster told me you may be able to help me. I would appreciate a short conversation.”
He raised an eyebrow at her large tip, and once he made a circle around the room, he came back to take a seat at her table.
“I am looking to deliver a package to Reflection Ridge, as soon as possible,” she said, “is that within your capabilities?”
“In principle, sure,” he said, “how much does it weigh, and when do you need it done?”
“Immediately, and about eighty kilos”, she said, making a guess at her own weight, plus everything she was carrying. “How quickly could you get it there?”
“Lady, we just got to this city,” he grimaced, and turned to get up, “Curls didn’t even have a chance to rest yet. I am not going to move her for at least a couple days.”
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Well, he didn’t deny he could do it.
“Twenty spirit stones,” she said quietly, and he stopped and sat back down, giving a low whistle. “Thirty if you manage to get it there before sundown.”
“Oh we’ll manage it alright,” he grinned, “but how do I know you are good for it?”
She reached into her robes, pulled out her pouch of spirit stones, and showed him a handful, cupping her hand to keep the fortune hidden from the rest of the tavern.
“Can you do it?”
“Meet me at the town edge facing the forest in twenty minutes” he said, glancing out of the window at the sun, “and pack this package of yours as tightly as you can. If you want it done by sundown, the ride will be rough.”
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She sprinted back to the ship at once, gave her heartfelt thanks to Wu Lanhua and Liu Fakuang, promised to write them later, and barged into her cabin. She had only a scant few minutes to pack up her things.
Thankfully, she owned precious little, so she didn’t need to decide what to leave behind. Her writing and sewing sets weighed almost nothing, and she packed them inside of her knife chest, alongside most of the pills and talismans she purchased, wrapped tightly in her spare set of cultivator robes. One of her remaining swords fit in as well, while the other one she managed to hide in her scroll case. Her dress - a gift from Lanhua, after all - went into the bag with the dioptra, alongside her hat.
She had already burned the papers with her spiritual energy calculations, and her scant research notes about heaven and tribulations fit neatly into her scroll case.
With everything packed, she gave her cabin one last glance. Just short of a week she had spent on this ship was a whirlwind of emotions, of triumph and despair, and something in her ached to leave it all behind.
She pulled in a long, slow breath, and expelled the air from her lungs all at once. Well, time to go.
She sprinted through the town, worried that the postrunner wouldn’t be where he promised, or that he lied about his abilities.
Perhaps she should have told him the package was herself.
When she came to the town walls, she simply hopped across, not even bothering to find a gate, and sprinted alongside the wall, looking around for any sign of Hui Yin. The man told her to meet her “at the edge of the forest”, and in her excitement she didn’t bother to clarify, but the damnable edge was long. Hopefully they wouldn’t simply pass each other.
The town’s gate - small, most likely only there so that lumberjacks could supply the town with wood - soon came into view, and she slowed down as she approached it. It was covered in mushroom growths, several meters thick, and she saw laborers on the wall and below it sawing into them, dragging blocks of sponge and mycelium away. The forest next to the gate bore signs of battle - trees cut, burns on the ground, and here and there, spots of blood, where rain had not yet washed it away.
She imagined what would have happened if the mushroom spirit was allowed into the town, and shuddered. She would have to thank Wang Yonghao later, though he was sure to blame himself for the spirit coming here in the first place.
As she stood in place, giving the gate a last look, some pinprick of awareness told her danger was behind her, and she leaped forward and out of the way, already drawing her sword out of its scabbard. When her gaze fell behind her, her eyes widened in terror.
Out of the forest slithered an ivory white snake, its head as large - no, larger than a person. Spiritual energy emanated from it - that must have been what she had sensed - and its scales, long, a cross between a scale and a feather, moved like waves across its body. Despite its size, its movements were quiet, measured.
In its eyes, she saw intelligence, and ravenous hunger.
A demon beast of this size, right next to the town, was a crisis. An intelligent one was a disaster. If it struck, she would be surely dead in seconds - and the common laborers on the walls stood no chance at all.
She was prepared to leap again as soon as she landed, but just then she saw Hui Yin, of all people, appear on top of the snake’s head, his strange musical instrument hanging in front of his chest. He waved at her, seemingly unconcerned about the monster.
“Hey, it’s you!” he said, “So where’s the package?”
She steadied her nerves with a pair of long breaths, slowly sheathing her sword. He must be a demon beast trainer, that was all - though the bastard really should have warned her. If she had a technique that could kill a snake of this size, she would have already struck.
“I am the package,” she said instead of chastising him, and came closer, “as well as my things.”
“I see,” he said, and tapped the snake’s head a couple times. Its body moved slowly, lowering him to the ground. “You sure you can handle the ride?”
“I expected a horse,” she said, looking up at him. Now that the head was on the ground, she saw a complex leather harness attached behind the snake’s head and extending down it’s neck, held in place with chains and bolts driven straight into the scales. By how calm the snake was, it didn’t seem to mind.
“This is Curls,” Hui Yin said, patting the snake’s enormous head as if it was merely a little cat, not a monster that could swallow him whole. It was a wonder that he could control it, being still in the refinement stage. “Come say hi.”
“I would rather not.”
“Afraid it’s not optional, lady. You want to ride, you have to pet Curls. That’s how she knows who not to eat.”
She swallowed a knot in her throat, and slowly approached the head. The snake - Curls - flickered its long tongue, lightning fast, over one eye, and then the other, and she realized it must have been blinking. Slowly, carefully, she extended her hand forwards.
“Go ahead, she won’t bite you like this,” Hui Yin said, “She’s a smart girl.”
Very slowly, she placed her hand on the Curls’ scales, and was surprised to find them strong, but yielding, and quite warm to the touch.
“There you go!” Hui Yin smiled at her. “Wasn’t so bad, now was it? Now give me half pay up front, and let’s put your things away.”
He led her to the snake’s head, where she saw a mess of leather straps and flaps of fabric, easy to resize to fit packages of any shape… But they all looked rather small in volume. That was a problem.
“Didn’t think you’d be riding yourself,” he said, scratching his head, “should have said so from the start. Will have to redo some bindings here, will just take a moment.”
While he worked the leather straps, she took out her dioptra, tore off the angular compass with her fingers, and tossed the rest aside. Angle compass was the hardest part to make - the rest would only take a minute with the help of a decent carpenter, and the big, unwieldy chair was an unjustifiable waste of space.
Opening up her knife case, she took out her sewing set, unspooled a good length of thread, and tied her sword scabbard securely to her thigh, and the sword to the top of the scabbard. She would have to tear the thread to pull it out, but she feared that otherwise, it would simply slip out, when the snake started to slither along as fast as a horse gallop.
A couple minutes later, her things were packed away, tied up securely within one of the leather pockets, and she herself was being tied to a “saddle” of sorts by her legs, right behind the head.
“Is this really necessary?” she asked Hui Yin.
“Yeah, trust me,” he laughed, “Curls isn’t gentle, and if you want to be there by sundown, we’ll have to really fly. I have a chain to secure me, but you don’t know how to use the chain, so you get the straps. You don’t want to be thrown off, do you?”
She shook her head, and didn’t object. He pointed out two handles for her to hold onto, and she did so as well, swallowing another knot in her throat. How fast could a snake possibly slither?
“Alright,” he said, climbing on top of the snake’s head, and grabbing a steel chain that he attached to a carabiner on his torso. The other end was riveted directly into the scales of the snake - or perhaps even into the skull beneath. “It’s not the first time I do this, so you have nothing to worry about. Just keep your mouth closed, mostly, so the dirt doesn’t fly in.”
“The dirt?” she asked.
“Yeah, from the ground? Lots of it will be flying around,” he said, pulling out another, much thinner chain, and attaching it to his musical instrument. She felt spiritual energy flow out of his body, and the handle on the side started to turn on its own, the same droning, strange sound coming out of it. “Now, I won’t be able to hear you, so don’t bother shouting, but I’ll try to turn around every fifteen minutes or so to check that you are fine. If you pass out…you pass out, don’t worry, you are tied down, won’t go anywhere.”
The music changed, going through a combination of five different notes, and Curls rose up, curling in on itself, until they were sitting easily ten meters above the ground. From her new vantage point, she saw laborers on the walls looking at them in curiosity. The alarm in her heart only grew.
“If you won’t be able to hear me,” she said, louder than she intended, “then why do you need the music?”
“Ha!” He laughed, flicking the thin chain connecting his instrument to the snake. His body stood at a steep angle, feet planted securely against its skull, and with both hands on the larger chain between them. “Music’s not for us, it’s for Curls. She won’t hear you none, either, but she feels vibrations through the tie - that’s how I tell her where to go.”
The snake had curled itself up completely, just like a spring, and suddenly, she realized it would not be slithering at all.
“Ready?” he asked her, and even though she felt anything but, she still nodded.
“Kashar-tuk!” Hui Yin shouted, and Curls unfurled itself like an arrow from a warbow, launching high up into the sky, punching through the air with sheer force of the impact, driving all air out of her lungs and whipping the hair behind her as they flew, flew, up into the sky, her fingers growing white on the handles as the tried to keep herself in place, and she squeezed her eyes shut to keep them safe from the wind.
And then suddenly, the force was gone, only the deafening whistle of the wind in her ears to keep her company. She relaxed her fingers, and carefully opened her eyes, adjusting to the wind.
As she glanced behind, she saw the entire town behind them as if it was merely a child’s toy. She saw Lunar Whisper, and the river snaking around the countryside, just like on a painting. They must have leaped hundreds of meters up into the air, and were still rising. Excitement rose up in her, and she giggled like a little girl, fear of the jump forgotten. This was what flying felt like, and it was amazing.
And then they started to fall.
She knew it would happen, of course, but the panic still gripped her, sending her back to the fight with that damnable fish, only now she could do nothing, nothing whatsoever because she was tied down by the damnable straps as she saw the arc of their flight bend, twist, turn towards the ground that got closer and closer and closer, trees growing in size fast, far too fast and she was going to die -
And then they crashed into the forest, and she saw nothing except a cloud of dirt and wooden splinters, her ears ringing from the sheer cacophony of it all, but there was no time to process it because Curls simply leaped again, and the sky was back, and so was the wind and someone’s scream, someone close - oh it was her scream. With the sheer force of will, she forced herself to close her mouth. As she glanced around, she noted with some relief that the snake’s head must have kept her safe from most of the splinters and dirt.
Yeah, these straps were not optional.
She glanced up at Hui Yin, who was somehow managing to stay in place with a mere chain, repositioning himself on the snake’s head with very light steps. He turned around, glanced at her face, and gave her a thumbs up, and she resolved that if she was going to survive this, she was going to punch him in the face.
Wang Yonghao better be worth this.
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As the sun was setting, Qian Shanyi’s tired, red eyes had finally spotted a town in the distance. How many more jumps was it? Ten? Twenty? She decided to be optimistic and settled on ten. As Curls crashed back down into the forest, she tensed her hips in the way she learned through hours of experimentation, rolling with the impact as much as she could and letting it pass though her, before Curls leaped again, and she let her muscles relax. She learned early on not to keep them tense for longer than absolutely necessary.
The terror of the jumps did not last: the mind adapted to anything after a while, and soon enough the jumps turned into soreness, exhaustion, and at this point, simply pain.
This nightmare was finally about to end.
Jump one…
Jump five…
Jump thirteen…
Sweet heavenbreakers, how much longer?
In the end, it was twenty five jumps.
For a bit, she didn’t realize that Curls had stopped, simply thinking that this was an abnormally long jump, but no. They were on the ground, Curls was lowering her head, and Hui Yin turned to look at her as he unclasped his chains, with surprise in his eyes.
“You are still awake?” he said, admiration plain in his voice. “Man, you must have a talent for snakeriding!”
“Fuck you,” she wheezed, her lips completely dry after many hours of staying in the wind. Her entire body shook, tension suddenly gone from it.
“Hey, I am serious!” the fucker laughed, “first time my teacher took me on Curls, I pissed myself and woke up when we stopped. And that was only like fifteen minutes.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” she said, barely managing to gather enough energy for a small scowl.
“Sorry, tradition,” he shrugged, “don’t warn people for their first time. Still, how was it?”
She didn’t respond, trying to get the nervous shakes in her body to stop.
“I see, that good?” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “Well, let’s get you untied. We are finally here - and a good hour before sundown, no less!”
She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, and felt him begin to unstrap her.
“Alright, you are free. Can you get up on your own?”
“No.”
“Jelly legs, huh? Yeah, that happens. Alright, let me help you up.”
He approached her to give her a hand, and she threw a punch at his jaw. She even managed to hit, for all the good it did her - she had just enough spiritual energy left in her body after this wild ride to not let her circulation collapse on her again, like it did after her vow, and not a drop to spare. Her fist cracked against his spiritual energy shield, and she let her hand fall down, defeated.
“Feisty!” He laughed again, good naturedly, pushing her hand aside. “Alright, you get up on your own then.”
She grunted, and a couple minutes later, finally managed to roll herself off Curls and flop onto the ground. She still couldn’t stand.
She heard him place her bags next to her, and opened her eyes to look him straight in the face, where he crouched next to her head.
“Alright, as an apology, and since you are still awake, how about I teach you a technique to keep the wind and rain out of your eyes?” he said. “It’s a simple one, and would be good for you if you ever master a flying sword - keeps your eyes from getting all puffy.”
She nodded slightly, and he showed her how to circulate spiritual energy around her eyes to cover them with a transparent membrane of force. It was a modification of the spiritual energy shield - the basic one was porous, and so did fuck all against wind or water, though it could still protect against droplets, as she had learned very thoroughly on this very trip. She tried it on her own, and by the time it clicked, she managed to get up on her feet, though with some difficulty. When one of her legs almost gave out under her, she felt her hand land on something hard and warm, and turned her head to come face to face with Curls giving her some support.
Good Curls.
“The rest of your thirty spirit stones,” she wheezed, her throat still far too dry to speak normally as she counted them out, “well deserved, I think, even if this was the worst trip of my life. Get Curls something nice to eat - a horse, maybe.”
“Oh we will.” He laughed. “Thanks, you’ve probably kept us fed for a good while. If you ever need our services again - ”
“I would rather die.”
“ - we tend to move around the empire, so you won’t find us anyways.”
She nodded, leaned down to check her things - everything was in place - and then waved at Curls and Hui Yin, who climbed on top, and slithered away towards the town. She hobbled in the same direction, working out the kinks from her arms and legs as she went.
She had finally reached Reflection Ridge. Wang Yonghao was here: now she just had to find him.