Year 658 of the Stable Era,
Fifteenth day of the tenth month
While Chao Ren looked up in surprise and disappointment, Huanlu Tang turned to nudge Gang awake. After more than a few sharp pokes he groaned awake, cursing the infernal bell and her insistence on excessive force.
Moments later, the door opened, and a woman pushing a small dim sum cart entered the room. She was dressed in a crisp, light-tan robe with crest of the Teal Mountain Sect—seven overlapping mountains surrounded by a circle— stitched on its breast in dark green threads. Another woman—a cultivator— followed her, wearing light blue robes with white-hemmed sleeves and a multitude of pockets, pushing her own, smaller, cart. With a start, Chao Ren realized that he’d been able to tell the difference between the two without thinking.
With his new senses he had felt the second woman’s overabundance of qi, as well as the mortal server’s relative lack of it. He made sure he kept this discovery to himself as the doctor inspected each of the patients.
With a gesture she drew the blood from Gang’s bandages and stored it in a small jade vial. She then had him lie down and, after he obliged, produced a roll of silver needles. Without missing a beat her hand blurred, and twenty-three needles appeared across Gang’s face and chest. The man let out a loud moan of pain as a faint white mist began to seep from his body. The doctor repeated the same procedure on Huanlu, who remained a good deal quieter than Gang as the mist began to emerge from her as well.
As the two steamed, the doctor moved on to Li Peizhi. She removed his bandages to check the condition of his body, and Ren almost averted his eyes when he saw the horrible burns that covered almost every inch of Li’s skin. The skin was blistered and cragged like a slab of granite, far more raw than he would have imagined such an old wound to be. It was a miracle that the man could even move in that condition, much less act so upbeat.
The doctor produced a bottle and, without any ceremony, upended it over him. She clicked her tongue as she gesticulated with her free hand, and a pale blue balm quickly enveloped him, covering every inch of burnt skin. Li grimaced in pain, though compared to the others his agony was short lived, as an expression of relief soon replaced it. The doctor exchanged his old bandages for new, making sure they were properly tied before moving on to Chao Ren.
“Your hand,” she said and, after a moment’s hesitation, he complied with her request.
She felt his wrist for a second or two, before methodically poking a series of acupuncture points along his palm and arm. She repeated the process to his other arm before moving on to his chest, fingers moving as quick as a scorpion’s sting and with the same gentleness. Chao Ren winced at the force, realizing the pain that had been hiding in his sore muscles. Afterwards, she pulled up his eyelids, and gave his pupils a close inspection before letting them go, satisfied with whatever she saw.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked in a clipped tone, producing a small bamboo scroll from the side of her cart.
“Yes,” Ren replied.
“Any strange dreams?”
“Um, yes? I dreamt that the elder with the jade skin was telling me I failed, and then I fell off a cliff and, then—”
“Any burning or pained sensations from your meridians?” the doctor asked, cutting off his explanation as she moved on to her next question.
“Uh, no.”
“Circulate your qi for me.” She put her hand on his chest as she said this, and after another moment’s hesitation, Chao Ren took a deep breath.
He let the heady medicinal air sit in his lungs, the clear taste of the mountain’s qi a sharp contrast to the bitter, earthy tones of the medical reagents. He went slowly at first, careful not to put too much strain on his overtaxed meridians. He spent his first breath getting acquainted with his current state, feeling out where he was the weakest. Then he took in a second, allowing his dantian to refine the ambient qi into his own with what was now practiced ease, before letting it flow through his meridians.
He repeated the process three times before the doctor was satisfied. She wrote a few more notes on her scroll, before handing him a small wooden box the size of a large chestnut.
“Take this after your meal and be sure to meditate while you consume it. And no qi cultivation for at least an hour afterwards. The alchemist can answer any questions.” Gang’s moaning intensified, and with a sigh, the doctor turned to face him. “Alright you vengeful bastard, I’m getting to you.”
The mist had coalesced into a pair of vague, bestial shapes the size of mastiffs. Thick puffy tails of mist narrowed into lean muzzles, tipped with rows of narrow eyes and snarling teeth formed of tiny ice crystals. The bestial qi of the Frost Ferret. Its will for vengeance against its slayers manifested in its dying breath.
The fragments roiled in on themselves, forms breaking and reforming over and over again as they tried to free themselves from their needle prison. They keened as they struggled, a haunting sound like iron nails against a glass pane.
The doctor produced a heavy urn from her cart, carved from dark stone and covered in yellow paper talisman marked with red characters. Popping its cork, she clasped her hands around it, index and middle fingers extended together as she started to chant the words of an incantation. Threads of qi began to flow towards the urn. The keening of the frost ferrets intensified as they realized their fates, their forms bulging as they fought the force compressing them into the urn.
The doctor’s chanting grew faster and faster as bestial qi began to swirl with greater intensity, thin wisps becoming thick ropes as they were drawn in by the inexorable force of the urn. At last, when not even the faintest trace remained in the room, she drove the cork down in a single motion, so fast that not even a wisp of the icy qi could escape.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
As she slapped a final talisman atop the urn, Chao Ren felt the temperature of the room rise. The frosty qi had been chilling the room as it coalesced, a process so subtle that he hadn’t noticed it happening until it had stopped. As he rubbed some warmth back into his arms, the doctor began to remove the needles from Gang and Huanlu as she asked them a series of questions about their current internal states. When she was satisfied with their answers, she gave each of them a set of tall pill bottles.
She seemed to be a bit more courteous with the two than she had been with Ren, although he was unsure if it was due to familiarity or seniority. As a new disciple he was currently at the bottom of the sect’s internal pecking order, so it could just as easily be both.
When she was finished, the doctor left without a single word of parting, followed shortly after by the server, who bowed to the cultivators before making her own exit. When he turned around, Chao Ren realized that she had left a tray of food on his bed. She must have put it there while he was distracted by the examinations.
The tray contained a small teapot, a cup, a covered bowl, a spoon, and a pair of steamed peach buns on a small plate. All of it, save the wooden spoon, was crafted of ceramic. A delicate eggshell color, each painted with the same design of dark green bamboo and pale pink peach blossoms.
As Gang and Huanlu commiserated about the pain of their procedure, Chao Ren started pouring himself his first cup of tea in months, taking his time to savor the aroma.
It was a strong tea, jasmine to be precise, and slightly over-steeped from the time it had spent on the food cart. He closed his eyes as he gently blew on it, making sure that he wouldn’t ruin the experience by scalding his tongue. Eventually, when he felt it was the right temperature, he took his first sip.
The warm liquid felt wonderful on his tongue, its floral taste washing away the bitter memories of the food pills he had spent so many months consuming. There was a touch of qi to it as well, a subtle mix of water and wood that reminded him of the sweet smell of freshly cut leaves and the crisp feel of jumping into a cool lake on a hot day.
The warmth of the tea spread through his body as he took another sip, relaxing his sore muscles and soothing his roughened meridians. So, this was the taste of a spiritual tea, made from plants that had grown in harmony with the qi around them. He could finally understand why his uncles were always so excited when it was brought out at the family banquets.
Perhaps the next time he was able to attend one, he would finally join them. It was a privilege the family had reserved for cultivators that could truly ‘appreciate the nuances of the qi of the tea’, and now that he was a true cultivator, he could proudly take his place among them. Sipping from the fancy jade cups, sharing stories and pats on the back.
He made sure to pace himself through his first cup of tea, taking gentle sips rather than simply gulping it down. When he was done, he filled it again, before turning his attention to the main course.
Removing the bowl’s cover, he was met with the rich smell of a seafood juk. The thick rice porridge was full of thinly sliced mushroom and scallions, as well as thick, juicy chunks of spirit crab, garnished with a liberal splash of white pepper.
It took all of Chao Ren’s self-control to hold himself back from licking his lips. He had heard that the Teal Mountain Sect was known for its spirit crab more times than he could count during both his travel to the sect and his time during the exams. It was all that everyone would talk about when even the most tangential mention of food entered the conversation.
‘You need to try the spirit crab.’
‘They put crab in everything over there.’
‘They have so much crab that it’s cheaper than rice.’
‘Son, make sure you eat as much spirit crab as you can.’
‘The spirit crab at the sect is the best.’
Everyone had made such a big deal out of it that he had just assumed it was some sort of joke being played on him. Everyone knew that spirit crab was a luxury among luxury foods. Even normal crabs were hard to come by, worth almost their weight in gold. Or at the very least roughly twice their weight in silver.
And yet, here it was in front of him.
In juk of all things.
Juk, the most common of common dishes.
A dish that even he knew how to prepare!
His hand trembled in anticipation as he dipped his spoon in, making sure to get an equal portion of each ingredient. He closed his eyes, dampening his other senses as he took his first bite.
His first thought was that it was incredibly soft. The meat barely offered more resistance than tofu, exploding in his mouth with a rich blend of sweetness and umami as he bit into it. The crispness of the scallions was the perfect contrast to its texture, adding a pleasant crunch alongside the chewiness of the mushrooms. The broth and the rice brought balance to the experience, perfectly combining each of their companions’ strengths into a smooth mélange that rounded out each flavor.
Invigorated, he dipped his spoon in for a second bite, only to realize that the rest of the room was staring at him, looks of bemusement on their faces.
“I remember my first time eating spirit cooking,” Li said with a smile. “It takes me back, seeing a youngster like you enjoying it so earnestly.”
“I apologize for the offense senior,” Chao Ren said, bowing his head.
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Li replied. “Although, if you truly want to make amends you can do away with the formalities. It isn’t right for someone as young as you to be so stiff.”
“I’ll do my best sen- I mean, brother Li,” Ren replied.
“That’s better,” Li sighed, taking a bite of a bun. “As I was saying, it does warm my heart to see a youngster like you enjoying the food with such relish. Back when I first joined the sect, such ingredients were far harder to come by. The most the sect could provide us disciples with was a single spirit peach bun each solstice festival. It took so much for them to do even that, and we would cherish every bite. It is truly a blessing that we now live in such prosperous times, to be able to enjoy such things readily.”
His eyes drifted to Chao Ren’s tray as he spoke, a distant look in his eyes. For a moment, Ren could feel the weight of ages in the man’s gaze. Beyond the youthful appearance and the casual wit lay a mind that had experienced centuries. That had experienced many more lifetimes than Ren had yet to live. He held out one of his buns to Li.
“Would you like one, for old time’s sake?”
“Ah, I really shouldn’t,” Li protested, “but if you insist, who am I to refuse such a generous gift?”
He reached out his hand to take it, only for Huanlu Tang to suddenly chime in.
“I thought that you said that the sect served mooncakes at the solstice festivals.”
Li froze, a guilty look on his face.
“Did I? You know, it’s been almost 800 years, and my memory isn’t quite what it used to be…”
“The server already gave you an extra, you mooch! Does your gluttony know no limit?”
“It’s a timeless tradition!”
“A shameless tradition, maybe.”
As the two began to argue, Chao Ren took a bite out of the bun. Like the rest of the food, it was delicious. Sticky and sweet in a way that complimented the tea well. He hadn’t realized how much he’d begun to miss such things during the exam. Food, conversation, tea...
He had just been so busy with his cultivation that he hadn’t taken the time to think about it. Perhaps it was important to take the time to enjoy moments like this on the path of immortality. Brief respites between steps. He finished his bun as he contemplated this, before moving back to the juk.
Yes, it would do him good to savor the moment.
He’d take his time to enjoy it as he used it to recover, ensuring that he was in the best condition possible before he resumed his cultivation. He had a long way to go to reach the second pillar in body and mind, and he couldn’t wait to resume his cultivation.
He had a talent for it. He knew that for certain now.
He just needed a bit more time to prove that.