Qian Shanyi watched Jian Wei lift the lid on her box. She saw his eyes widen in shock, a predictable flurry of emotions passing over his face. She braced herself. It was barely enough.
His spiritual energy blew out of his body like a storm, blanketing the room, swirling all around her. It was the hand of death clutching at her throat, the weight of the grave crushing her alive, the sharp blades of a thousand swords tearing her apart. Her muscles froze in sheer, animal terror in front of a predator far, far greater than she ever hoped to be. Mere shrimp in front of a shark.
"What is the meaning of this?" Jian Wei said, his voice like the hiss of a blizzard, cold gaze piercing down to her very soul.
And in the middle of it all, she felt his name, the mark, the image of the sunlight dancing across the waves, without stopping. Inevitable and inalterable, a law of nature carved on the very fabric of the world: that this sunlight would dance, and it would dance forever, through storm and nature's fury, each ray as sharp as a razor, piercing through the clouds and burning all that would stand against it into dust.
This man was the Elder Ever-Dancing Sunlight. Of that there could be no question, for the world itself would buckle before a second could arise.
Such was the weight of a Daoist's name.
A true Elder, then. Not just a formal title.
How many did he slaughter, until other cultivators have bestowed it upon him?
She forced her hand to raise the cup to her lips, straining against the pressure. She had to pour spiritual energy into her muscles to keep her arm stable, but the tea in the cup still shook with pathetic little waves.
Terror is of the mind. A sword that misses even by even the smallest fraction draws no blood.
Like a dam against a flood, a fortress of cold calculation snapped in place within her own mind, keeping the terror at bay.
She took a casual sip. She had to project an image of certainty. If he wanted to terrify her into submission, into begging him to stop, he would need something more than a Daoist name.
He wouldn't dare strike me.
She expected fury. Wanted it, even, to build her own image. She knew the risks, and found them acceptable. She just had to follow her own plan.
He wouldn't dare violate the fourth edict.
This would solidify the lie of the Sky Void Island sect. A loose cultivator would never risk provoking the fury of a sect Elder - which meant that if she did provoke it, she couldn’t be a loose cultivator.
He could snap my neck as easily as scratching himself.
Irrelevant. This was the terror speaking. He hadn’t attacked her - all his spiritual energy alone could do was scare her.
She still couldn't breathe. Only enough air in her lungs to speak a single sentence.
"Jian Shizhe is fine," she said, keeping her voice from shaking through pure force of will. "Barely even scratched, though his pride may never recover."
The pressure lessened, but only a fraction. At least enough for her to draw another breath.
She inhaled slowly, carefully, before continuing. Wouldn’t do to run out of air, now. "Three days ago, he tried to force his way into my room," she said. "where I was half-dressed and my partner laid naked. Where our sect secrets were laid out in the open."
She planned this entire speech well in advance. A careful scaffold, all built on top of a single question.
What did Jian Wei want?
She looked into the eyes of death, and made her own eyes shine back with pure defiance. "If I was anyone else, you would have come home to a slaughter post put through your gates, our sects already at war," she spoke with the precision of a refiner's hammer. "This sword is a gift, taken out of his hand in a righteous and honorable duel. It is a symbol that I do not see Jian Shizhe's foolish actions as those of his sect. But before we can agree on any deals, I implore you to decide what to do with that sword - and I only see two options."
Jian Wei kept staring at her silently. Waiting for her to finish before he would pronounce his verdict.
What did Jian Wei want? He was the uncle of Jian Shizhe, and his direct Elder. He was the Elder of the Northern Scarlet Stream sect. He built it, and was growing it, step by step, like a careful gardener.
This meant he wanted Jian Shizhe to be safe. He wanted his sect to be safe, and growing in power.
So what happened when these two allegiances were put at odds?
An opportunity.
She reached into her robes, and drew out another letter, setting it on the table. She tried to move her hand quickly and smoothly, to conceal the tremors. She didn't think it worked. "A formality,” she continued anyways, forcing the words to keep flowing out of her dry throat. “My personal statement that this was merely a personal disagreement between the two of us, and that I do not hold the Northern Scarlet Stream sect responsible. That is the first option I see. You may take it, and I will leave this town, and that would be the last you hear the name Qian Shanyi."
Jian Wei held her stare calmly, the pressure around her not easing at all. A waste of spiritual energy, so precious for a building foundation cultivator - but her mind would still buckle before he ran out. She was already feeling her self-assurance fraying at the edges, the sheer threat eroding her mind, bits and pieces of her conviction cracking off, never to return.
He wouldn't dare strike me.
He wouldn’t have to. His disciples can do his work for him.
Treacherous thoughts, bubbling up from her subconscious. There was a reason, an argument for why he couldn’t, she remembered thinking it through before, but now, in the moment, it all felt so far away, logic dripping through her fingers like so much water.
She just had to stay strong until they were done. If she couldn’t even withstand a little bit of terror, how could she claim to rebel against the Heavens?
You can’t. You can’t at all. Go back to your sect before he KILLS YOU YOU FOOL -
She strangled another treasonous thought, but they were coming one after another, faster and faster. Eventually even her own mind would give out.
If her body didn’t break first. Mental and physical, two pressures, acting in concert. Her muscles strained to keep her back straight, neck unbowed. For now.
“Honorable cultivator Qian,” Jian Wei spoke finally, and, without so much as moving a finger, flicked the letter she set down on the table with his spiritual energy, sending it sailing directly into his hands. His tone had not warmed, but it was patient, as if talking to a child.
Children die so easily. Just one hard shake, and snap goes the neck. Just like yours.
“I have extended an invitation because I expected us to discuss matters as fellow cultivators,” Jian Wei continued, “But instead, you bring me this.” he gestured to the sword in the box, as if it was a dead rat, dragged in by a particularly stupid cat. “You threaten war - in abstract, yet the threat remains. You enter my house and tell me such grave things about my own cousin. And yet you speak of it all as if you are doing me a favor.”
Qian Shanyi breathed slowly, carefully, her muscles working overtime against the pressure around her. If she was a real ambassador from a real sect, doing this to her would have been an insult - but what she put in front of Jian Wei would have been one as well. It balanced out, in a sick sort of way.
It felt like these metaphorical balance scales were attached to her skull. One ton on each side of her head, just about crushing it with the tension.
Jian Wei broke the seal on her letter with one finger and unfurled it, eyes quickly scanning the page. Only two paragraphs of text. “If you had simply defeated Shizhe, none of this charade would have been necessary,” he continued, looking back up at her, the letter tossed casually back onto the table. “So would you kindly tell me what it is you did to my direct disciple?”
For all that his voice barely changed in tone, the threat in it was like a slap across her face.
He doesn’t believe me, he knows I am not from a sect, just humoring me -
“I have humiliated him, as he had humiliated me,” she replied immediately, refusing to look away from those cold eyes. She couldn’t hesitate here, or she would collapse. She already had to spend a chunk of her spiritual energy just to manually keep her back upright against the pressure, fortification of her muscles alone no longer sufficing. “I made him kneel and apologize for what he did. That is why I am afraid that the honorable Elder may lose some face if our sects were to simply work together. Even if I were to dance through every street of Glass Ridge, singing that this was merely between me and Jian Shizhe, some face would still be lost. I do not think it would be right, so I would prefer to leave town entirely.”
"I see." Two quiet words, like an echo out of a grave. Jian Wei tapped a finger against his cheek, considering her words.
Her neck creaked, as seconds stretched out, each one an individual torture. In a distant corner or her mind, rage started to build. She could tell that Jian Wei had already calmed down, and whatever shock she imposed on him was long gone. At this point, he was just fucking with her, seeing how long it would take for her to crack, secure in his knowledge that even if her sect came asking, he could explain his actions.
He knew that no refinement stage cultivator could resist a building foundation one for long, knew that if she broke, what she said afterwards would be utter nonsense, knew that what she did to Jian Shizhe was likely deserved, and yet he still chose to pressure her, as a fucking negotiating tactic.
“I suppose that explains what you meant by the second option,” Jian Wei finally said, as if not even noticing the state she was in. “That I would claim you acted on my orders, to discipline him in my place?”
“Yes,” she said, failing to keep her teeth from grinding. She reached into her robes again, but her left arm would no longer rise, muscles spent entirely, spiritual energy unstable due to her terror. She had to reach in with her right, an awkward angle - but better that than begging him to stop. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
She drew the second envelope, and tossed it underhand in his vague direction. Jian Wei’s spiritual energy caught it out of the air, bringing it to his eyes. “It would be,” she said, pausing to draw breath again, “better, for everyone. For Jian Shizhe, for Northern Scarlet Stream, for you.”
“I do not think Shizhe would agree,” Jian Wei said idly, calmly sipping his tea while he read over her proposed agreement, backdated to when they last met.
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“He is spiraling,” Qian Shanyi snarled, losing control of her voice for a moment. Her vision started to swim. Her ribs were being crushed - with each breath, she barely had enough left for a full sentence. “A bird with both broken wings. He needs a lesson before he splatters against the ground. If I simply leave - he will see this as pointless injustice. Get worse.”
Qian Shanyi felt something give in her side, a sharp spike of pain. Hopefully not her ribs. She put her hands on her knees, locking herself into a single, stable position. She’d deal with it later.
“If this is a lesson,” she continued, “he may yet learn. That his actions reflect on the sect as well. You would not lose face for what I did - you would gain face, for solving a problem that was there for months - years.”
“Hm,” Jian Wei said, playing with his tea cup. “So neatly spoken, yet I can’t help but notice that you have not brought this up the last time we met. I can’t help but notice that you chose the time of the duel just before I returned - all so that I could not intervene. In other words, I can’t help but notice,” Jian Wei said, leaning forwards, across the table, the swirl of spiritual energy so much denser right next to his body, like a cloud of nightmares made manifest. “That I am talking to a swindler.”
- he knows he knows he knows HE KNOWS HE KNOWS HE KNOWS HE KNOWS -
Qian Shanyi held herself from flinching back. Her vision was starting to black out entirely. “You have already been swindled, Elder,” she ground out through clenched teeth, her patience entirely spent. “Will you cry like a child, or accept reality?”
For a moment, she thought she was going to die.
Then the tension vanished all at once, as if it was never even there. If Qian Shanyi wasn’t already sitting down, hands on her knees in the most stable position, she would have collapsed from the contrast.
“I have not heard a refinement stage cultivator be this defiant in years,” Jian Wei laughed easily, leaning back as if she had just told him a hilarious anecdote. Qian Shanyi’s vision started to come back, and she saw the slight grin playing on his lips. “You have been very well trained. Please send my commendations to the Elders of the Sky Void Island sect.”
“I will be faithful to your intentions,” Qian Shanyi said neutrally, trying to glue her mind back from the scattered fragments. Now that the pressure was gone it was threatening to tip over into exuberant euphoria, which would be its own danger.
She couldn’t afford to crack now, after having withstood that storm. She needed to go back over the conversation, figure out what each of them said, what it all meant.
“I have been very surprised that a refinement stage cultivator was sent here as an ambassador, but I can see why you have been picked,” Jian Wei said, rubbing his chin. “So I have already been swindled, hm? I suppose I have been, by my own sect no less, to find myself in such a situation. I can’t turn back time, that much is true - the only thing we can do is move forward.”
Jian Wei picked up a writing brush, dipping it into an inkwell on the side of the table, and quickly wrote out a letter, before sliding it to her side of the table.
She looked at it warily, not reaching to pick it up, mostly because she didn’t trust her arms yet. It was a permission slip, granting her access to most of the sect facilities. Her heart fluttered in her chest, but she kept it from showing on her face.
He knows? Bah. He doesn’t suspect shit.
“Your statement is appreciated,” Jian Wei continued, ignorant of her internal battle. “But as Jian Shizhe’s elder, I am afraid it is still my responsibility, that I have allowed it to get to this point. I hope this will go some way towards making amends for this misstep, and for letting my emotions get away from me in our talk.” He paused, setting the writing brush aside. “I will think about your proposal, and question some witnesses. A couple hours, at most. In the meantime, please, enjoy a rest in one of our gardens.”
Qian Shanyi shook her head. “I thank the Elder for your kindness, but that would not not be necessary.”
Jian Wei raised an eyebrow at her. “Bravery is admirable, but not when it leans into stupidity,” he chided her, “I kept expecting you to speak up, but it seemed that you were going to keep pushing up until you were dead. You should rest, not insist you are still whole after resisting my pressure.”
Rat-fucking bastard. He was just testing me?
“This here cultivator thanks the Elder for the provided pointers,” she said, speaking in a way so opposite to sarcasm that she hoped her real meaning came across. “Yet is it not said that a swan knows best the shape of their own wings?”
“The swan in question is bleeding out of her nose.”
Qian Shanyi touched her nose. It really was bleeding. She didn’t even notice.
At least she didn’t piss herself in terror, so small mercies. Even if it would have served Jian Wei well, for his office to stink after putting his full pressure on a refinement stage cultivator. On a guest.
“It is still not necessary,” she said stubbornly. Her spiritual energy settled down by now, and without any major injury, she had no problems controlling it. She wove her rope control technique around her robes, making them hug her curves, stiffening up. She slowly stood up, letting her robes take up some of the tension from her tired muscles. “I shall rest in my own rooms.”
Jian Wei arched an eyebrow at her, but she held his gaze. “Very well,” he relented. “I will send a runner.”
Qian Shanyi bowed just a bit short of what was respectful, and left.
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“So how blown are we?” Wang Yonghao asked, when they returned back to their rooms. They walked together, with her grabbing him by the waist for a bit of extra support.
She raided the Healer’s chambers in the Northern Scarlet Stream sect for some basic recovery pills - since Jian Wei had ever-so-graciously volunteered to give her access - but they weren’t all that quick to work.
“What do you mean?” she asked, too mentally exhausted to parse through the question. She needed a nap. In fact, she was going to start right on it, as she hopped directly into bed.
“Our legend?” Wang Yonghao asked, leaning against a wall. “Did he figure out who we are?”
“Oh,” she said, closing her eyes. “We are fine. He took the bait.”
“You came back white as a sheet, barely walking on your own. With dried blood under your nose.”
“That’s how you know it worked great,” she said, yawning. “He…wanted to test me, or something. That I resisted so long - I think it…convinced him, I was…trained by a sect…”
She trailed off. Where was she going with it? Her mind felt too sluggish.
“But if you think we should flee,” she said, yawning again, hugging one of the pillows to her chest as she curled up under the blankets, still fully dressed. “Then just pick me up and flee. But this here honorable cultivator will be napping now.”
She didn’t even hear his response.
----------------------------------------
She woke up an hour and a half later to Wang Yonghao poking her in the side.
“There’s a runner,” he said, as she blinked away the sleep. “Says he’s there for you.”
After her nap, she felt almost completely refreshed, and so she hopped out of bed, strolled to the doors, and took a letter from an outer disciple who waited for her. She broke the wax seal - Jian Wei’s personal seal, at that - and scanned through the contents, walking back into the room.
“Told you it worked,” she snorted, handing the letter to Wang Yonghao. “Jian Wei wants to re-negotiate the terms, an hour from now.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he took the bait,” she said, shrugging. She hopped back into bed, lazing on top of the covers. “He wants the deal, just not at the terms I have given him. But the only reason to ask for a re-negotiation is if he still wanted the overall deal - and I don’t care that much about the specifics.”
She asked for an amount of glassware appropriate for a sect - but they didn’t actually need anywhere near that much. Even if they got less than half, it would be enough.
The letter also said she’d have to serve as an instructor for Jian Shizhe for several weeks. Annoying, but it would give more cover for their story, and if she could get away with hitting Jian Shizhe on the head with a training stick, all the better. They haven’t yet exhausted all the benefit they could draw from the town, after all.
She could almost imagine Jian Wei’s calm tone as he justified the decision. “It is only natural for the one who brought up the issue to be the one solving it,” he’d say. Very economical.
She’d even be paid for her effort, though only a perfunctory sum, into an account in the Thrifty Bat Bank that Jian Wei wanted her to set up. He seemed set on making all their transactions go through it, sword payments included. She vaguely recalled this bank as being linked to him in some way - perhaps he wanted to put her finances where he could keep watch over them.
Frankly, all Qian Shanyi could think of was that it would give them a sect recommendation for a bank account, something she would have otherwise needed an entire scheme to acquire. It’s not like she could simply walk in and ask for one. Jian Wei could watch the account as much as he liked - simply having one would make interacting with other sects so much easier, and getting an account in a different bank afterwards would be child’s play.
She’d still try to extract some other concessions out of him in exchange, of course. No need to tell him she was glad he was playing into her hands.
“I still don’t understand it,” Wang Yonghao said, looking her over. “When you explained it before - I thought if you got attacked, we’d be running away.”
“If we got attacked by ordinary disciples, yes.”
Wang Yonghao looked at her weirdly. She arched an eyebrow at him. “Riiight,” he said slowly, “Instead, you got attacked by an Elder. Which is…better, somehow?”
Qian Shanyi snorted, rolling her eyes. Her rage faded after the nap, and it was easier to look back on what happened with a more rational outlook. “Wasn’t attacked. Just pressured a bit.”
“Right, yeah, very different,” Wang Yonghao replied sarcastically. “Common sign of a polite conversation, when someone comes back on shaky legs and with blood dripping out of their nose.”
“It is, as far as the Empire is concerned,” she explained patiently. “He couldn’t kill me, not with the fourth edict hanging over his head. Couldn’t duel me himself, obviously, since he is building foundation and I am refinement stage. His disciples could - but unless he knew for sure I was lying, it’d just make him seem like a sore loser. As long as there was a bit of uncertainty, he wouldn’t have risked it, not until he could question the witnesses, ask more about my supposed sect.”
Qian Shanyi paused, thinking it over. “Really, I was quite safe in that room.”
Easy to say now. It didn’t feel that way, not when she was in the middle of it.
“You still got pressured,” Wang Yonghao said, clearly unconvinced.
“Yeah, that rat fucking bastard did do that, and if I had my way, I’d break his legs for it,” she grumbled, “I didn’t expect him to have a Daoist name, so didn’t think it would affect me nearly as much. Didn’t think he’d decide to test me to destruction, either.” She grimaced in disgust. “Playing Heaven’s advocate, some morons would argue that gifting an Elder the sword of their own disciple would be a great humiliation, and a bit of retaliation was to be expected.”
“Is that why you think he did it?”
“No. I could say he wanted to see if I would crack - perhaps admit I was sent by his enemies to trap him, or vice versa, see if someone else could make me break his trust. But frankly, I think he just saw an opportunity to take some of his fury out on me. But I suppose I am lying to his face and arguably scamming his sect, so it would be a bit hypocritical of me to complain of unfair treatment.”
“And then, after doing that… He still wanted to deal with you?”
Qian Shanyi shrugged again. “Why not? I still wanted to deal with him. His sadistic streak has little influence on business.”
“I just mean, why not throw us out of town entirely?”
Qian Shanyi waved her arm in the air vaguely. “I told you it was always a possibility. But I didn’t think it was likely. It’s…” She sighed in frustration. “How do I explain this?
She thought for a minute, before turning on her side, facing Wang Yonghao head on. “Okay, so think about a human mind as a squid.”
An incredulous look. “A squid?”
Qian Shanyi nodded. “Yes, a squid, swimming in murky waters, looking for food, hiding from predators.”
Qian Shanyi formed one of her hands into what she thought looked a bit like a squid, her fingers for tentacles. With a moment’s thought, she circulated the Crushing Glance of the Netherworld Eyes, and drew black eyes on the back of her hand, and little suckers on her fingers.
“There are currents that pull this squid in different directions,” she continued, making the squid move around in the air, ”and shapes far away in the waters, that could be food, or could be danger. And this squid has to decide whether to go left - and throw us out of town - or right, and take my deal. A current of greed pulls it right: I’ve dangled a lot of money in front of him, as well as weapons I know he needs. A current of embarrassment pulls it left: I have humiliated his cousin, his direct disciple. That I’ve spared his life makes this current weaker, but it is still there.”
Wang Yonghao leaned forward, clearly engaged by her puppetry. Very visual learner, this one. “Right,” he said, “So whichever current is stronger, that way the squid will swim?”
Qian Shanyi shook her head. “Not necessarily. It’s harder to swim against a current, but by no means impossible, and the squid is looking for food. Out in the distance, it sees something - is it sunlight glinting on the water, a cloud of plankton, or a great whale, ready to swallow it whole?”
A moment’s thought, and a glowing cloud of light appeared in the air, just to the side of her squid-hand. “The squid sees us donate a massive amount of tribulation materials as if it was nothing,” she continued, “Could loose cultivators do this? Of course. Could a loose cultivator have a rare healing technique that let her recover in time for a duel? Could she defeat sword saint Jian Shizhe, despite being of a lower realm? Absolutely. These are all just shapes out in the water, any one of them could be anything at all. But take them all together, and they start to make a picture, that of a sect that fell from power but still holds plenty of secrets within their coffers. One it would not be worth trifling with.”
She formed the cloud of glowing light into a crude silhouette of a fish, and made her squid-hand turn towards it, adding a hungry slant to its eyes.
“For some people - like Jian Shizhe - their squid is carried on the currents, almost blind to the shapes far in the distance,” she continued, “Others, they want to get close before making a decision. Jian Wei had spent most of his life building up his sect. He wouldn’t risk it all on a maybe, nor let Jian Shizhe ruin it, and he could see the logic in my words. So he swam right.”
Her squid hand moved right, towards the glowing silhouette. “But sometimes,” she said conspiratorially, “the shapes are false, cast by a ravenous Illihveli. And then the squid gets eaten.”
Her other hand came from below, large white teeth drawn on her fingers. The jaw chomped down on the squid, and thrashed about, before the squid fell limp, and she dragged it under the blankets.
“Open up your inner world,” She said decisively, standing up from the bed. “If Jian Wei wants to meet with me in an hour, I don’t want to waste it on laying about. We still have to prepare the scales and the lift.”
“And then, we’ll go and eat that squid.”