Qian Shanyi poked her head around the edge of the unfinished fence surrounding the soon-to-be rabbit coop. It was only about four feet tall, and she could have simply hopped over it - but she wanted Linghui Mei to see her from a distance, in case she was still too mad to talk. She gave her fifteen minutes to calm down, but it was hard to judge how deep that fury went.
As it turned out, it was still a little deep. Angry, wet eyes greeted her, glaring over the top of Linghui Mei’s plush crow. She was sitting down with her back to the fence, the crow clasped tightly in her arms.
“Are you hungry?” Qian Shanyi said, pulling a plate from behind her back. “I made snacks.”
Linghui Mei didn’t acknowledge the gesture, but neither did she tell Qian Shanyi to go away, so she decided to risk an approach. She sat down on the grass a meter away, setting the plate down in between them.
“Rabbit, on shards of heavenly horse bone,” Qian Shanyi explained, presenting the plate. It was filled with a dozen little meat spits. “You seemed to like these two the best, so I wanted to try a combination.”
“This is stupid,” Linghui Mei grumbled, picking up one of the spits with one hand. “One animal on another? Stupid.”
Qian Shanyi raised one eyebrow at her. Linghui Mei bit into the spit, crunching through the bone. “And the meat is too cold,” she grumbled more.
“Thank you,” Qian Shanyi said.
Linghui Mei squinted at her suspiciously, then sniffled, ruining the image. “Why are you thanking me? I’m insulting your food.”
“Because then I can make it better in the future,” Qian Shanyi said calmly. “I also came to apologize for laughing at you. I didn’t think it would strike you quite this deeply.”
Linghui Mei snorted haughtily, and bit into the meat again. She ate one spit, and then picked up another in silence. “I guess it’s nice that I don’t have to clean my fingers,” she mumbled quietly, defiance slowly leaking out of her shoulders like water out of a cracked jug. “I can hold it by the spit. It’s convenient.”
“That was the intention.”
Linghui Mei continued eating in silence. Qian Shanyi observed her much the same, making mental notes about how the bone shards cracked and the meat shifted around. Next time, she would nick the spits - it should make the meat stay in one place a bit better, and would make the breaks a bit more controlled.
“It’s my eldest,” Linghui Mei said once she finished, her voice a little distant. Qian Shanyi listened patiently. “He reads these novels of yours, talks about them every time when I visit. I tried to read them as well, but… I can’t. Even a little taste of them was too much.”
“I get it,” Qian Shanyi said after a brief moment. “Reading about your own hunters being happy and funny, that must have tasted like bile.”
Linghui mei shook her head furiously. Not denying, despondent. “I just can’t…” She sniffled again. “I can’t. I love him, but there are some things that are beyond me, as a mother.”
So that is where she learned it. Qian Shanyi did wonder how she could recall such a minor quote, yet be furious at being accused of liking the books.
A minor question, all things considered. But it also made another thing more likely.
“He’s human?”
Linghui Mei snorted sadly. “Of course you’d put it together,” she said, wiping her eyes with the tail of her plush crow. “Yes. I love him, I love all of them, but with humans, it is not the same. He’d never have to fear the chase, never have to look behind his shoulder, imagine the pain of an arrow through his chest. And I am glad for that, knowing that he will always be safe, I would give anything to keep the others as well, but it’s not the same. It’s just not the same.”
“I see,” Qian Shanyi said. There was clearly an old wound there - distance between the two of them that Linghui Mei couldn’t cross, and her child perhaps couldn’t be bothered to, if he even recognized it. Time must have played into it as well - if she had to travel around, she could hardly spend that much with each individual child.
They sat together in silence for a minute. “I do also apologize for accidentally misleading you about how grueling the process of cultivation is,” Qian Shanyi said finally, deciding to move the discussion towards a lighter topic. “Normally, when an inner disciple joins a sect, they learn these things slowly. They can see others cultivating every day, so the misconceptions they have dissolve pretty quickly. With us, you are getting a very skewed picture. I’ll work harder to help you through it.”
Linghui Mei smiled ruefully. “No training so grueling that only one out of a dozen dozens will see the dawn, then?”
Qian Shanyi smiled back. “No. At least, not in general - I am sure some elders still abuse their own disciples. It’s just training, you push yourself as far as your own soul takes you.”
Qian Shanyi rose, dusting off her robes from sitting down on the grass. “It’s not an uncommon misconception, for what it’s worth,” she continued casually. “Many ordinary people think that we have to pass tests that are so difficult that only a small fraction can even survive them, but what sense would that make? Any sect has far more use out of a weakly trained cultivator than out of a dead one. The only deadly tests come from the Heavens.”
Linghui Mei closed her eyes and sighed. “So I am a common fool, then.”
Qian Shanyi laughed, and turned around to leave. “I have to get going, meet with Jian Wei. See you in the evening.”
“Wait.”
Qian Shanyi turned back, and saw Linghui Mei staring up at her, biting her lip, an agonized expression on her face. “Once again I have cracked an egg on my face due to my own foolishness,” Linghui Mei said.
Qian Shanyi shrugged. “It’s just growing pains, Mei -”
“Nonsense,” Linghui Mei cut her off. “You’ve put your faith in me as your student, and yet I’ve failed it once again. Got so tangled up in my own secrets I didn’t think to ask.” She shook her head sadly. “Did not even speak a good word about the victory of my own master. I’d like to make it up, somehow.”
“How?” Qian Shanyi asked, raising one eyebrow. “You are already helping us with everything.”
Linghui Mei bit her lip harder, and Qian Shanyi patiently waited for her answer. She was heading over with time to spare, and the Northern Scarlet Stream sect compound was only five minutes away, if she hurried.
She didn’t really have it in her heart to blame the jiuweihu. This whole thing must have been a lot of stress for her, and she couldn’t even really leave, not without putting herself at danger of the spirit hunters once again. A bit of snapping in response was completely understandable.
“No, I can’t continue like this,” Linghui Mei finally said, shaking her head. ”I have to share something. You’ve said before that you’ve wanted to hear our songs. Perhaps that? Ones we sing to our children. Few enough secrets there.”
“A celebration, then.” Qian Shanyi grinned. “A marvelous idea. I’ll buy some spirit wine on the way back.”
Linghui Mei nodded. “I would also need to sew some implements,” she said, “but they are easy to make.”
Qian Shanyi turned around, heading back into the warehouse. “But now I really must leave,” she said, “I do not want to keep Jian Wei waiting.”
All the better that she had something to look forward to in the evening. Meeting Jian Shizhe again was going to be a tense affair.
----------------------------------------
The main compound of the Northern Scarlet Stream sect was built in the shape of a symmetrical cross encased in a square - four courtyards at the corners, framed by the walls of the main building. At the center of this cross was a large garden, where disciples grew herbs and fruits for the sect’s own cooking. It was filled with nooks and crannies for private conversations or meditation, and at the exact center of that garden stood four large gazebos, where Jian Wei had summoned Qian Shanyi.
Qian Shanyi arrived a bit early, and found a secluded bench with a small table beneath a lychee tree, deciding to spend her free time on some writing. She could watch the center of the garden through a gap in the greenery, and Jian Wei could sense her easily whenever he arrived: there was no real need to announce her presence.
The gazebos were built to be private enough for a conversation, but still very open - anyone who passed through the gardens would see who sat in them. That Jian Wei planned his talk with the disciples to take place here meant he wanted the rest of the sect to know exactly what happened. A good sign, if it went well, and a bad one, if it went poorly.
Jian Wei’s direct disciples began to arrive soon after. There were four of them, all dressed in prim and perfectly ironed robes, carrying identical folders - likely with their reports about the activities of the sect. To Qian Shanyi’s mild surprise, one of them was a woman - tall, her hair pinned up into a bun that turned into a ponytail, hanging down to about her lower back.
Though perhaps she shouldn’t have been that surprised. If Jian Wei really participated in the last imperial succession, his views might be a bit more meritocratic than those of his peers.
Belatedly, she even recognised her. She had been directed to her shortly when asking around about Jian Shizhe this very morning. Obviously, Qian Shanyi didn’t tell her about any of her big plans. At the time, Liu Yufei said she was very busy, told her nothing, and sent her off to bother someone else.
Jian Shizhe was the last to arrive. Swordless, his face steeled into an emotionless mask. The other three disciples averted their eyes when he sat down, and one shifted a fraction away - no doubt wanting nothing to do with the inevitable chastisement that would come from Jian Wei.
The Elder himself appeared ten minutes later, fashionably late. Qian Shanyi sensed him coming from the direction opposite to the gazebos, perhaps seeking to avoid the senses of his own disciples, or perhaps simply by accident. Qian Shanyi raised her eyes from her work exactly as he rounded the corner of a long, sculpted bush, and rose from her seat, giving him a curt bow in greeting.
Jian Wei looked about the same as when she last saw him - so calm that it seemed as if he would sooner make the world bend around him than step aside. His eyes, looking her over, were filled with calculation - and just the barest hint of regret.
“Fellow cultivator Qian,” Jian Wei said quietly, before she had a chance to greet him verbally - as would have been the norm. “How fortunate that I could meet you before we begin.”
He looked out through the same gap in the greenery, and nodded decisively. “If you would not mind, please suppress your spiritual energy,” he said, turning back to her. “I would prefer Jian Shizhe to remain unaware of your presence until it is required. I will ring a bell to summon you.”
“Of course,” she said after a momentary pause, lowering her own voice to match his.
The request was a little worrying. With the shrubs and the trees in the way, their talk would not be heard over at the gazebo, and they should have been too far away for the disciples’ spiritual senses - or else Jian Shizhe would have already reacted to her presence - but perhaps Jian Wei simply wanted to be extra careful.
There was a second possibility, of course - that this was a trap. Certainly Jian Wei had agreed on her plan, and it should have been in his best interests - but he could have reconsidered it, for whatever reason. Until he spoke his part aloud in front of others, gave it the weight of his honor as a sect elder, it was only words in the wind.
But she was committed now. She could no more turn back than make the sands of time fall upwards.
Keeping her concerns to herself, she picked up the sheet of paper she wrote out and handed it to Jian Wei. “The first draft of my instruction plan for Jian Shizhe,” she explained. “I could start as early as this evening.”
“Prideful death or death to pride?” Jian Wei read out the title at the top of her notes, raising a curious eyebrow at her.
“I thought it was appropriate,” Qian Shanyi said dryly.
“Some would say this to be a bad omen.”
Qian Shanyi matched Jian Wei’s expression with a questioning eyebrow of her own. Was he leading her on? “Some would say that having four disciples meet among the four gazebos at the center of a four-pointed cross is a bad omen.”
Jian Wei smiled slightly. “Ah, but it is,” he said, looking back down on her notes. “One must only ask: who is the target of this omen?”
Qian Shanyi thought his words over in silence. Four was an omen of death, one of those that did not survive careful scientific scrutiny during the reformation, yet still persisted in the minds of many. If Jian Wei built his sect compound to evoke it deliberately - and he must have, no blueprint could be agreed upon without passing through his desk - then presumably he did not want to bring death upon his own disciples. That left many other meanings - death to weakness, to falsity, or the reverse - resistance in the face of death.
Death to enemies. Another subtle threat, if she stepped too far out of line.
Perhaps Jian Wei intended to put her on edge, but it made her relax instead. If he was choosing to threaten her, it meant he had no trap planned.
“You are not a superstitious woman, fellow cultivator Qian?” Jian Wei asked, not looking up. Perhaps he spotted a change in her body language out of the corner of his eye. “It seems your new robes gave me a false impression.”
Qian Shanyi looked down on herself. White robes, the color of mourning, but also metal, her own constitution. She didn’t pick the robes for the auspicious match - they were simply the second-best fitting among the ones Wang Yonghao already had - but she could see how someone might think otherwise.
“I am not,“ she said dryly, “Sometimes white robes are simply white robes.”
Jian Wei chuckled slightly, nodding along as he read. She didn’t have enough time to write much - only key points, goals, objectives, steps to take to achieve each one - but she still did her best to make it comprehensive. “It’s acceptable,” he finally said, handing the paper back to her. “If quite ambitious.”
Qian Shanyi took the paper, and folded it up, hiding it within her robes. “To cultivate is to rebel against the heavens, so how could I not be ambitious? A cultivator that accepts their station is hardly different from a salted fish.”
Jian Wei chuckled again, and waved a hand over the table. Jian Shizhe’s sword appeared out of thin air a millimeter above the wood, dropping down with a slight thunk.
Qian Shanyi’s greedy eyes snapped to the plain steel ring - a cosmos ring - on Jian Wei’s finger. It only took her a fraction of a second to pull her gaze away, but Jian Wei still noticed it, giving her a knowing look.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Show-off, Qian Shanyi thought, knowing she would have done the exact same thing if she could. She did wonder where his own sword was and why he did not carry it, but assumed he simply elected not to do so within the walls of his own sect. It seems she was mistaken.
“Ambition is only to be rewarded,” Jian Wei said, folding his hands behind his back. Out of sight. “Remember the bell, and present the sword to me when I ring it.”
Qian Shanyi nodded in understanding, and settled back down to wait, while Jian Wei headed over towards the gazebo.
Even with the greenery in the way, she could still hear him speak, though she had to guess at some words that were a bit hard to make out. After the customary greetings, Jian Wei made the disciples give their reports one after the other, concerning the last few weeks - their progress in cultivation, the problems they were having, their sect duties, and what happened while Jian Wei was gone on his trip.
None of them mentioned the duel, until Jian Shizhe. He was last. In fairness, he went straight to it.
“Uncle, this here cultivator must humbly bow my head and ask for forgiveness,” Jian Shizhe said. “While you have been away, I have lost a duel, and with it, lost my sword.”
Even from this far away she could hear the raw anguish in his voice. Served him right.
“That would explain why you have arrived without it,” Jian Wei said neutrally. “Please continue.”
Jian Shizhe did. He talked about the kitsune hunt, about his taming of the glass shambler, and about the duel. He stuck to the facts, answering curt questions throughout, and mostly avoided any embarrassing parts. Qian Shanyi felt he was robbing her of quite a bit of credit by not describing her insult in detail, but such was life.
“I swear,” Jian Shizhe concluded with fierceness that could rival a lion, “I will get it back!”
“Hm,” Jian Wei said coldly, and finally rang his bell. “That won’t be necessary.”
Qian Shanyi breathed out, picked up Jian Shizhe’s sword, hefted it onto her shoulder, and headed to the gazebo, humming a little tune. Perhaps she was overdoing it, but she just couldn’t help herself, and it helped to steady her nerves.
It was time to play her part.
----------------------------------------
It won’t be necessary?
Jian Shizhe kept quiet, thinking over what his uncle said. He wasn’t about to question his Elder, and yet, it made no sense.
That witch Qian Shanyi had insulted him, insulted their entire sect by taking his sword. They had to get it back, even a weakling like Jian Wei should have understood that. So what did he mean?
Jian Shizhe would have paid in blood for the opportunity to see a building foundation cultivator destroy Qian Shanyi, but Jian Wei would never dare to go through with it. What did this leave? Surely he wasn’t going to suggest buying the sword back, like a ransom from a kidnapper -
He heard steps approaching the gazebo, a slight creak of gravel beneath wooden sandals. Idly, he looked over, and his blood froze in his veins.
No!
Qian Shanyi, strolling towards the gazebo, his sword gripped in her disgusting hands.
Why is she here?!
She was grinning. Laughing at him!
His blood turned from ice to boiling fury.
How dare she so much as step into my sect!
----------------------------------------
Qian Shanyi walked into the gazebo, quickly glancing over the five occupants one last time. There was Jian Wei, sitting with his back to her, on top of a thick pillow. He had some notes laid out on top of a small tea table in front of him. His disciples were sitting in a neat little row opposite him, each on their own - smaller - pillow. The two men among them seemed confused at her appearance - she had not met them before, and so perhaps they simply didn’t recognise her. The woman, at least, had an inkling of some realization, and bit her lip, as if bracing for a crystal bomb explosion. Her worried eyes snapped to the side, towards the third man in their row - towards Jian Shizhe.
Oh, Jian Shizhe was deliciously furious, teeth grinding, face blood red, eyes sparkling. It was a wonder that he managed to remain seated.
Qian Shanyi smugly winked at him, and he finally snapped. He rose up from his knees, snarling at her, hands already balling up into fists -
“Disciple Jian,” Jian Wei said coldly, and for a brief moment, Qian Shanyi felt his terrifying pressure brush up against her.
Just the edge. Aimed at someone else. Her heart still skipped a beat.
Jian Shizhe slammed back onto his knees with a crack of the wooden floorboards beneath, his back buckling under the pressure. And then it was gone, just as soon as it appeared.
“Have I given you permission to leave?” Jian Wei continued calmly.
Jian Shizhe grimaced, shut his eyes, but shook his head. “I apologize, Elder Jian,” he muttered, voice dead, emotionless.
“Very well,” Jian Wei said, and motioned to Qian Shanyi.
Qian Shanyi breathed out some tension she was holding. There were many ways this first moment could have gone, and this was one of the best.
There was a sixth pillow at Jian Wei’s side, a half step behind him. Intended for her, no doubt. She knelt on it, and offered Jian Wei Jian Shizhe’s sword, both hands outstretched, head bowed deferentially. He took it, and put it at his other side, before turning back to his disciples.
It was all theater, of course, for appearances. The sect disciples had to see this exchange to know who really was in control here. Subtly glancing around, Qian Shanyi saw a couple of outer disciples watching the gazebo from where they were doing work on the garden. An audience would tell tales - and rumors will do the rest.
“This is fellow cultivator Qian from the Sky Void Island sect,” Jian Wei continued. Also committed now. No turning back. “Before I left, I asked her to serve as a test for you four - and I am afraid all of you have failed it.”
“A test?” Jian Shizhe croaked. His lips trembled, as if he was hit with a stick and had just barely held himself back from pleading for mercy. He glanced at Jian Wei, the other disciples, and even out into the gardens. Little kitten stuck in a trap.
When his eyes briefly passed over Qian Shanyi, she winked at him again. His face flushed with renewed fury, before he shut his eyes.
“Yes, a test,” Jian Wei said, giving his disciples a very severe look. His eyes softened a fraction when they passed over Jian Shizhe, before hardening again. “I have long held to the principle that an education must be based on true challenges, not merely direct instruction. Fellow cultivator Qian’s goal was simple: to find a weakness that could pull our sect into a war. I am saddened to know that it only took her a couple days to do so.”
Jian Wei’s cold eyes focused back on Jian Shizhe. “Jian Shizhe,” he said, pointing to the sword at his side. “This sword will be returned to you when you prove you are once again deserving of it. To that end, I have requested fellow cultivator Qian to tutor you personally -”
“Uncle -” Jian Shzihe protested, face screwed up in indignation.
Jian Wei’s pressure slammed down again, and Qian Shanyi flinched. In the back of her mind, she was pleased to see she wasn’t the only one: the other three disciples edged a bit further away from Jian Shizhe as well. The man himself was forced down, into a deep bow.
“Elder,” Jian Shizhe ground out, his voice catching, “I do not believe -”
“The decision is final,” Jian Wei cut him off. “If you require an explanation, address it to your new tutor.” His pressure cut off, and he glanced around at his other disciples, before stopping on the one woman among them. “Shizhe’s failure may be the greatest of you four, but I am afraid none of you have passed the test. Liu Yufei. You are responsible for my mail. Why was I not informed of the identity of the duelist as soon as I returned?”
Liu Yufei did not answer right away, her throat working through a nervous swallow. Qian Shanyi felt a bit of kinship with her. Same job, different sects. Same bullshit dripping down from the Elders. “Most honorable elder, this here humble cultivator begs forgiveness,” she finally said with a slight bow. “But you yourself have requested the report about the duel to be postponed until the evening.”
“I did not ask about the duel, I asked about the identity of the duelist,” Jian Wei explained patiently. “Mail had been left for me from the fellow cultivator Qian. Had you informed me of her relation to the duel, I would not have postponed the report. If this was not merely a test - you would have put me in a very awkward position.”
“I did not want to make the fellow cultivator Jian Shizhe lose face,” Liu Yufei said evasively. “I felt it was best for him to be the one to break the news.”
It really was a confluence of circumstances. If Qian Shanyi didn’t plan to meet with Jian Wei right after her duel, almost as soon as he returned - there would have been more time for this gap of knowledge to resolve itself.
“And had this been an ordinary duel, you would have been correct,” Jian Wei said, “But it was not. It was a duel with an ambassador of a fellow sect. Was this fact known to you?”
“I am - I am afraid not, Elder,” Liu Yufei said. She swallowed again. “If I may speak freely -”
“You may.”
“I did not believe the duel would occur at all,” Liu Yufei spoke quickly. “Fellow cultivator Jian had vanished just before it, with no notice, and it had never even been registered - I thought it was simply another rumor.”
Jian Shizhe looked about ready to cry, hearing his word obliquely questioned. Qian Shanyi felt a small spike of pity for the man - he really was starting to remind her of a kitten that had been beaten half to death with sticks.
A very small spike. About the size of a fingertip.
“And once it was over, it was too late to gather information, and the rumors had only increased,” Liu Yufei continued. She raised her eyes slightly, and glanced at Qian Shanyi. “More people spoke of the… unorthodox techniques allegedly used by fellow cultivator Qian, than that she was from any sect. There simply was not enough time.”
“I see,” Jian Wei said neutrally, in the same way that a bolt of natural lightning was neutral on the question of your life or death, “and you believe this to be an excuse?”
“N-not as such, Elder -”
“Enough,” Jian Wei cut her off with a sharp gesture. His face was flat like that of a man watching his own house disintegrate before his very eyes because he was too lazy to replace a couple nails just last night - though Qian Shanyi was the only one with the context to know why. “I do not seek to find a scapegoat, seeing as how I have organized this test in the first place. I want to know what you should do in the future, to avoid a tragic repeat.”
Qian Shanyi tuned out the rest of the meeting, turning her thoughts inwards. Hearing Jian Wei lecture the other three was of little interest to her - she had heard similar lectures many times, and even though Jian Wei seemed better than average, the subject tended to get repetitive. Instead, she thought more about Jian Shizhe, and what she had to teach him.
How did one turn a prideful cockroach into an actual human being? It really was quite a challenge.
----------------------------------------
Two hours of discussion passed quickly - for Jian Wei and his disciples - or slowly - for Qian Shanyi. Just as they seemed about ready to wrap up, an outer disciple hurried into the gazebo, bowing deeply. The interruption snapped Qian Shanyi out of her half-meditation, which was really for the best - she was already growing bored.
“Elder, if this here humble disciple may disturb you,” the outer disciple said, “there is a loose building foundation stage cultivator that is asking to be introduced.”
This brought pause to everyone present. A building foundation cultivator without an institution to fall back on was about as rare as a fish that could walk on land.
“From the empire?” Jian Wei asked.
“He did not mention any affiliation,” the disciple said, “the honorable immortal introduced himself as simply Fang Jiugui.” The disciple paused, clearly hesitating whether to say more. “His dress is also… somewhat unconventional, as is his aroma.”
Qian Shanyi’s eyes sparkled, and she leaned towards Jian Wei. What an opportunity to find out more about their mysterious visitor. “Elder,” she whispered close to his ear, “just before a duel, a cultivator wearing a strange leather cloak flew into the central square on top of a flying sword from the direction of Reflection Ridge. As far as I have seen, he simply headed into one of the restaurants.”
Jian Wei didn’t give any sign he heard her, and simply nodded to the outer disciple. “Please tell the honorable cultivator Fang I would be glad to take his introductions now.”
Qian Shanyi leaned back, her eyes following the outer disciple as he hurried away. This Fang Jiugui was quite a mystery: another complication thrown in by the Heavens, or a coincidence with no real meaning? In either case, it would be a piece of the puzzle around Wang Yonghao’s mysterious luck.
“Please bring us some more tea while we wait,” Jian Wei said, gesturing to Liu Yufei, and the cultivator rose, bowed, and left in a hurry. With another gesture, he summoned another pillow out of his cosmos ring - for this Fang Jiugui - and made the other disciples shift around, forming a triangle. Jian Wei and Qian Shanyi on one side, his disciples on another, and the petitioner on the third.
Building foundation cultivators were not like those of the refinement stage, free to roam around with only their sword for company. Their powers were greater, yet also more restricted. A building foundation cultivator could not duel a refinement stage one, and so had to find other ways to resolve conflict - such as by introducing themselves directly to all the major sects in the area as soon as they arrived.
This wasn’t Qian Shanyi’s first time seeing it play out. Luminous Lotus Pavilion was far from a major sect, but it still saw its fair share of traffic. Having the direct disciples present was likewise common - it was a good teaching moment, and let them meet well-connected cultivators in a controlled manner.
The sect compound was only so large, and yet it took Fang Jiugui three times as long as it should have to get over to the gardens. Qian Shanyi saw him following after the same outer disciple along one of the wide pathways, strolling casually as if passing through a park - and not heading to a meeting with a fellow building foundation cultivator.
He stopped next to a flowerbed and crouched, looking at the flowers, before getting up and following, only to stop again and poke at a tree. Even from a good distance away she could see the outer disciple growing exasperated.
And then Fang Jiugui turned his head and looked straight at Qian Shanyi, and his lips split in a wide grin.
A shiver ran down Qian Shanyi’s back, though she didn’t let it show on her face. What was that supposed to mean?
Fang Jiugui headed straight for the gazebo after that. Up close, she could better make out his garment: a long, dark brown leather robe with many pockets, coming up to about his mid thigh, that was probably intended to be buttoned up at the front - if half the buttons weren’t already missing. Beneath it, he wore a pair of pants, and some kind of dark shirt, his sword hanging loosely off his belt. His hair was still unkempt - not simply due to the wind, then, if he hadn’t fixed it in the many hours since.
Overall, he looked like a man chewed out by life and spit out like a bit of tobacco. And yet he was a building foundation cultivator that rode a flying sword. These pieces were not fitting together well.
When Fang Jiugui entered the gazebo, Jian Wei inclined his head in greeting. “Honorable cultivator Fang, I presume?” he said, gesturing to Liu Yufei, who started to pour them both some tea. “The Northern Scarlet Stream sect welcomes you. What brings you to our small and insignificant town?”
“A wind of change and wind of chase,” Fang Jiugui said cryptically, lips split in a bright grin. He glanced at the pillow presented to him, but remained standing. “Tailing a bird that fell out of her nest, nothing more.”
Jian Wei raised a silent eyebrow at that. Fang Jiugui stopped, breathing in deeply. He grimaced, as if fighting with himself. “I am a hunter, tailing a fugitive,” he finally said with great difficulty. “I won’t be long.”
“And what fugitive would that be?” Jian Wei asked curiously.
“How could one talk of a bird that is not yet caught?” Fang Jiugui laughed. “A secret to be kept, for a better time, once everything could fit together like lines of a poem.”
He glanced at Qian Shanyi again when he said “bird”. It was subtle, as if he was merely looking around. Entirely innocuous, if one didn’t already know who she truly was.
“A cultivator’s secrets are their own,” Jian Wei said lightly. “But of course I would expect to be briefed on it, before you make any arrests.”
“How could I do anything less?” Fang Jiugui said. Another glance at Qian Shanyi, this time at her gloved hands - and then the slightest hint of a frown.
What?
“Perhaps we should talk of something lighter?” Jian Wei offered, gesturing to a cup of tea already prepared. “I always seek to learn the stories of cultivators who pass through my town.”
“Impossible. The rains of tragedy whip me ever onwards,” Fang Jiugui said, shaking his head. “And the grief I drink is for me alone.”
Fang Jiugui pulled out a steel flask from one of his many pockets, and took a sip - and even from a few meters away, Qian Shanyi was struck by the powerful stench of hard liquor. What was in that flask?
“Meeting you had been like a lonely ray of sunshine through the dark clouds of destiny, Elder Jian,” Fang Jiugui said, bowing deeply. “Yet my work waits not. The birds one chases… they may always take wing.”
Qian Shanyi’s eyes followed Fang Jiugui as he left, a feeling of doom slowly squeezing her heart.
Was he really here for her? It seemed impossible - and yet…
And if he was here for her…
How much did he know?