“Wen Guoxiang. Li Rouliang. Xu Quanhao. Zhao Wuqiang.” Elder Mu Yanshen stood at the front of the ceremonial stage that was part of the main terrace. In the grand courtyard, dozens of members of Yangjian Sect stood in orderly rows, arranged in terms of seniority. At his words, the four teenagers just a few years older than Huoyun stepped forward, presenting themselves before the esteemed Elder, heads bowed.

“The four of you have called Yangjian Sect home for many years, and throughout the course of your training, have distinguished yourself greatly. The Elders have watched as you devoted your very lives in service to Yangjian Sect. Today, under the light of the full moon, your fellow brothers and sisters honour you as you embark on the next step of the Path.”

“We are humbled, Elder,” they called out, their voices blending in perfect harmony with each other.

“Remember always what it is you fight for,” Elder Mu spoke grandly, not only to the four being displayed to the eyes of all in attendance, but to every member of Yangjian Sect. “Cultivation is not simply for one’s own selfish gains. We are the protectors of the mortal realm. I ask that you now declare your vows.”

“We swear to uphold the virtues of Yangjian Sect,” they spoke, and in the quiet of the night, their words echoed far and wide. “Good is in our hearts, and righteousness guides our souls. We will never let evil fester. We will protect our brothers and sisters who depend on us. We pledge to place others before self, good before evil. The Path of Cultivation is not a means to an end, but an end in itself.”

There was resolve in their voice, and it was clear to Huoyun that they meant what they said. Elder Mu Yanshen nodded.

“From this moment on, we deem you as ready to tread your own paths forward, for this is barely the beginning. The Foundation is set, and now each of you must chart the course ahead. As is tradition, the daoshi elixirs are presented to the four of you, as they have been for every Talent to have passed through our sacred halls. May this gift be fruitful in illuminating the arduous road that lies ahead of each one of you.”

“We thank you, Elder.”

“In Yangjian Sect, we are privileged to receive masterfully-crafted daoshi through the ties forged with the Zhang family from the time of the 14th Council of Elders. Today, despite his tender age, young Zhang Huoyun has prepared the four pills, each of them uniquely tailored to the nature of your respective qi. As you embark on the next steps of your journeys, let this moment forever be carved into your hearts and minds: cultivators though we may be, we must forever defend the realm of mortals. Swear upon this.”

“We swear it.”

That was his assigned cue to move, as he’d known from having been part of the ceremony before, only it was his father who normally presented the elixir. Still, before the assembled crowd of cultivators, his nerves were on full display. Beside him, his father gently placed a palm on his back, pushing him forward in encouragement. He forced himself to move, and as had been instructed, took his place between the Elder and in front of the four newest Talents that would become Seniors of the sect.

From the box, he took the first pill – one of the two meant for a yang-dominant user, presenting it to Wen Guoxiang. He took it in both hands, bowing in thanks, and mechanically, Huoyun continued on.

Xu Quanhao was next, and as expected of his personality, also perfect for a pill based on yang. He winked at Huoyun, an act that helped calm his nerves slightly, before mimicking his fellow Sect member and bowing as he accepted the pill graciously.

It continued in much the same way with Li Rouliang and Zhao Wuqiang. Finally, when the pills were all received, they took a step back and bowed in unison.

“We humbly thank Zhang Huoyun and the Zhang family, and vow never to sully the pacts formed between Yangjian Sect and the Zhangs.”

Now as his turn to speak his side of the prepared words. “The Zhang family thanks Yangjian Sect for its protection and exchange of gifts over the generations, and hopes that Yangjian and the other Guardians of Qingliu will continue watching over us and the realm of mortals for generations more.”

Nailed it without stuttering like an idiot! Off to the side, his father smiled proudly, flashing him a thumbs up. Huoyun quickly left his position, allowing the Elder to continue with the final part of the ceremony.

“Tonight, you shall each consume the daoshi. Cultivate the energies for a day and night, and may you reap the benefits of your training.” He took a step closer, and the four young Talents knelt. “Wen Guoxiang. Li Rouliang. Xu Quanhao. Zhao Wuqiang. With this, I declare that your time as junior members of Yangjian Sect has come to an end. From this moment forth, you are now officially fully-fledged Seniors. Conduct yourself with honour, let conviction guide your paths, and never allow your heart to stray.”

With that, Elder Mu Yanshen nodded, and as one, the other assembled Sect members cheered. Their voices bounced off the edges of mountains, echoing from the peak of Mount Qingliu, and even though he wasn’t a cultivator or part of Yangjian Sect, Huoyun felt moved by the sight.

“It’s something else when you’re the one presenting it, isn’t it?” his father asked knowingly from beside him. “I still remember my first time… and I was seventeen then, too. You did a good job today, Huoyun. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

He fidgeted at the praise. One by one, proudly, and yet paradoxically humbled, the four newest Seniors of Yangjian Sect consumed their respective daoshi pills.

Cibation, the thought came at him once more. After long years of calcination, of tempering the qi, alongside congelation of the twin halves that formed the spirit, the daoshi was now being added to the crucible of the soul, that it may let its inherent properties blend with its imbibers.

“Very well done, Zhang Huoyun,” Elder Mu said quietly, having made his way over, as the four Talents basked in the praise of their fellow sect members. He glanced at Shengfa, before smirking. “You certainly did better than your father on his first time taking charge of the ceremony. He tripped over his own words, and he was five years older than you are now.”

“It wasn’t my fault that Hongna was such a beauty!” he burst out in immediate protest, before grimacing. “Besides, after my wife found out years after it already happened, boy did she give me such a hard time for weeks.”

Huoyun raised an eyebrow. This was not something he’d been told before.

“Now that’s a nostalgic name,” Elder Mu said wistfully. “Fu Hongna… it’s been, what – twelve years since she was betrothed to the Fengyan Sect?” He shook his head. “Time really does fly.”

“To Master Jin himself, so I hear?” his father mused, before turning to Huoyun, his eyes lost in memory. “Yeah… twenty years certainly flew by. In no time, this little brat’s going to be taking over the business soon.”

“Please don’t say that, father,” he spoke quickly. “I still have much to learn.”

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Zhang Shengfa laughed, patting him on the head. “Don’t worry that little head of yours. Your father’s going to be around for many years yet.”

His father and the Elder glanced at each other, exchanging a nod that was perhaps less subtle than they thought. They’d spent hours talking in private before sending for him and the four Talents at the training hall, but the time for parting would soon come if they wanted to make it down the mountain in time for the next day.

“Your carriage has already been loaded, Little Brother Shengfa,” Elder Mu said. “Would you like to inspect the goods, or…?”

“That won’t be necessary, Elder. There has never been a mistake since the time of my grandfather.” He gestured for Huoyun to follow. “Come on now, Huoyun. It’s time for us to go.”

Wordlessly, he nodded, tearing his eyes away from the sight of the Yangjian Sect members in residence sharing in the revelry with their four brothers and sisters. Together, the three of them made their way to the carriage. His father slid on easily, taking the reins, Huoyun sitting beside him a moment later.

“You’re leaving already, Master Zhang?”

The Four Talents had taken their leave of the ceremony to see off their guests. It was strange – Huoyun had scarcely known them for but a day, but with all the ties between his family and the sect, there was an odd sense of kinship: not quite family, not quite strangers; they lived in different worlds, and were not exactly friends, but there was something there.

“Can’t have Yunjiang Town going without our medicines, can we?” Huoyun’s father said. “If we set off now, we might be able to get a few hours of sleep before the first customers come in.”

“Travel safe,” Wen Guoxiang said sincerely. “Master Zhang, Huoyun – I look forward to seeing you again when next our paths cross.”

“Why the sappy goodbyes?” Xu Quanhao scoffed, before smiling widely. “Yo, Huoyun! Next time you come back here, we’ll show you around more of the Sect! Better start getting those daoshi pills ready for the next group of Talents!”

He ignored the sharp jab that Rouliang gave him from the side. Elder Mu chuckled. “I see you’ve gotten quite well acquainted in the time we’ve been gone,” he said. “That is good. Shengfa; Huoyun – on behalf of Yangjian Sect, let me just say again how blessed we are to be in partnership with your illustrious family.”

“No need for such words between friends, Elder,” his father said. He nodded at Huoyun. “Come on, now. Say goodbye to your friends, and we’ll be off.”

“I hope the daoshi works well. I’ll see you next year, guys,” he said. “Uhh… send Rongyao, Xueling, Taishan, and Yangchao my regards too.”

“Will do,” Guoxiang said on their behalf. “Take care. We’ll look forward to seeing you again.”

With that, Zhang Shengfa took the reins, and the carriage began making its way down the mountain, final goodbyes echoing from behind them.

-o-o-o-

Huoyun’s mood was subdued during the journey back. Now that it was just him and his father amidst the quiet of the winding mountain path, he finally had the headspace to ruminate and reflect on what he had learnt over the whirlwind of events that was the past few hours.

Cultivators began their journey by honing the qi. Doing so first required meditation to allow oneself to have a conscious understanding of its nature, followed by strengthening of its two halves, without ever allowing one to become so overwhelmingly powerful as to destroy the other. If Zhang Shengguang had been hinting at this in his message of ‘Make of a man and a woman a circle’, there raised two questions from it.

How had he known about the nature of qi, being not a cultivator himself? And why did he stop at describing it merely as a circle, rather than a more precise description like those he used for his alchemical instructions? He could just as easily have said to continue refining either half without ever breaking the circle, just as the cultivators did, so why didn’t he?

As always, the mystery of Zhang Shengguang vexed him. He was one step closer to the truth, and yet he couldn’t be further away from seeing what his ancestor had understood.

“Huoyun.” After tens of minutes riding in silence, his father finally spoke up. “I… had a bit of a discussion with Elder Mu, earlier. It concerns your future.”

“Huh?”

His father didn’t leave his eyes off the path, as dark as it currently was, and Huoyun couldn’t read his expression. “You have talent,” he said simply. “A very rare talent. You adapted our ancestor’s teachings in ways that I most certainly couldn’t at your age, and perhaps still can’t now. You see the underlying pattern in his teachings in a way that I cannot.”

Huoyun was silent. He honestly didn’t think what he did was that impressive – everything he’d learnt, it had been out of observation since the time that he was young, and seeing how the different medicines his father and himself prepared had linked together.

“Elder Mu agrees. The way you constructed those pills… if even a single thing had gone wrong, all their potency would have been lost. Yet, you adapted the formula, and created not one, but four masterful daoshi. He has made an offer, and I want to hear your thoughts.”

“What do you mean?”

“He has requested that you become a liaison of sorts between Yangjian Sect and the people living in the shadow of Mount Qingliu,” his father spoke seriously, and Huoyun was taken aback. “The working arrangements are still undefined, but you’ll become a member of the sect in all but name. They will teach you how to cultivate, but not bind you to their ways. You’ll be at a place between mortals and cultivators. The theory of it is that you’ll relate to both our worlds, and further cement ties between our family and the sect in the process.”

He was stunned. Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t averse to the idea, especially considering his renewed interest toward his ancestor’s teachings and the first solid lead he’d ever had, but leaving would mean that…

In response to his silence, his father glanced at him from the side, pulling tighter on the reins. “What do you think, Huoyun?” he probed.

“If I leave… then you’ll –“

“Don’t worry about me, son,” he interrupted. “Truth be told, this was something I’ve been considering for years.” He sighed, giving Huoyun a tired smile. “I know you, Huoyun. You still think that there’s more that Zhang Shengguang discovered, but that our family hasn’t pieced together, don’t you? Every time this year, and whenever we get to preparing the daoshi… I’ve never seen you as focused and excited as you have been for the past weeks.”

Had he been that transparent? “But…”

“If it’s me you’re worried about, don’t be,” his father assured. “I can run the store on my own. What matters to you is your future, Huoyun. I’m content with where I am. I’ve convinced myself that there isn’t more to uncover of Zhang Shengguang’s teachings, but I know that you still doubt that. You cannot live your life continuing that way, always wondering whether or not there is still something you’re missing.”

Huoyun was still conflicted. What he said made sense, but he had a duty to his family. Doubly so, after his mother had passed. For years, it had been just the two of them, and if he just left right now…

“Think about it, okay, Huoyun?” his father spoke, turning his attention back to the path. “You don’t have to decide right away. Take some time for the next few weeks to think, and – WOAH!“

Abruptly, while he was deep in thought, the carriage abruptly shifted, his father steering the reins sharply, alongside the loud neighing of the pair of horses driving them. Unprepared, Huoyun jerked where he sat, his head bumping harshly against the wooden carriage, the world around him spinning.

Again and again, his body struck against the carriage, until at last, he became still. Disorientated, he couldn’t tell exactly what had happened.

One thing was for certain: he was pinned down, his chest against the ground, a massive weight on his back.

What had –

“Seems you were right after all, Jinmao,” a gruff voice spoke, chuckling as he emerged from out of the shadows. Huoyun shut his eyes tight, forcing his world to focus, before opening them once more. “Let’s see if the rest of what you told me is true.”

Stones had been laid down to block the way along the path, and in the darkness, his father hadn’t been able to see them until it was too late, and they’d been forced to divert suddenly.

An ambush.

A group of men descended from the shadows – four of them, he thought he could make out – surrounding the overturned carriage. In a daze, Huoyun tried to force himself to stand, but the world continued spinning around him. The weight on his back shifted: the carriage had broken apart, and a piece of debris had been pinning him down.

“W-who are you all?” he heard his father call out weakly, as though in pain, and Huoyun felt a chill grip at him. He looked at the direction his voice came from. His father was likewise downed some distance away, the impact having sent them in separate directions. “If… if it’s money you’re after…”

Again, the one in the lead laughed. “Not money, Zhang Shengfa.” Heavy footsteps advanced toward them. “We want the daoshi. Hand it over.”

The icy chill of terror intensified.

These weren’t just bandits.

They were rogue cultivators, ones not aligned to any sect. Somehow, they had known of the arrangements between their family and the Yangjian Sect.

They had made the Zhangs their target, and out here, in the dark of the night, two mortals against a group of cultivators in various stages of training, there was no hope of escape.