Six years later
The 5489th year of the Imperial Dynasty.
Master Elder Fu Zuang’s knees ached as he knelt in supplication. The shrine in the temple school was recently painted, and the golden idols inside were polished to a shine. It was his routine now to visit JaLong school and pay homage to the gods before starting his day. The school, more than any office of administration, was the heart of the village. Fu Zuang winced as he stood, he was no longer a young man. Far from it.
As he stepped out into the morning fog, he couldn’t help but feel wistful at the familiar sounds and sights that greeted him. He had been a student here when he was young. Now, he was the last of his generation, and he could feel his time coming to an end. His mouth pulled up in a bittersweet smile. He did not fear death. He had reconciled himself to his mortality decades prior when it became obvious that his Path was over.
He walked through the courtyard where the students were performing morning stretches and nodded his head at their greetings. These young cultivators were the future of the village, and from his vantage, the future was bright. The yield from the crop fields was higher year by year, and the talent in this new generation was beyond expectation. He could rest easy knowing his legacy, no matter how feeble, was secured.
His quiet contemplations were disrupted by heavy footsteps. Zuang turned to find Master Lan running towards him, his face plastered in sweat. At the sight, Zuang’s heart immediately dropped. There was an old adage that played in his mind—calm sands best hide a coiled snake. Things have been going well. Perhaps too well. Master Elder fought back the urge to demand for Master Lan to explain himself, instead he waited patiently for him to catch his breath.
“Master Elder, sorry to bother you so early in the morning.” Master Lan bowed and fumbled inside his robes. He pulled out a large envelope. From the front, it looked like an intricately wrought letter, stamped with an ornate crest. That in itself was not alarming, but when Master Lan flipped over the letter, Fu Zuang nearly spit blood.
The edges of the envelope were sealed shut with a chain of pouncing tigers. The tigers moved like molten ink across the edges of the letter. This was no normal seal. The shadow aura emanating from the missive swallowed the nearby light.
This was from the Shadow Tiger Sect. The strongest sect in the Eastern Continent. What did they want with FuJia? The village was inconsequential. Beneath the notice of such an august sect. It hurt Zuang's pride to admit it, but it was, nonetheless, the truth. Though it was the edict of the Emperor that local sects of each continent send scouts to recruit talented young cultivators, FuJia had only received a visit from a sect two times in the past three generations and never from such a high-ranking sect.
Master Elder gulped. He managed to keep his hands from trembling as he reached for the letter. His fingers touched the shadow seal. It felt like being submerged in cold oil. With a gulp, he broke the seal.
There was a long pause before Zuang folded the letter back into the envelope. "Master Lan, you will need to go to the village council meeting in my stead this afternoon," Zuang instructed.
Lan nodded easily. "What did the letter say?" He couldn't hold back the question, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Master Lan pursed his lips in thought. "I need to go on a trip. Inform the village I'll be away for a month or two." With that, he sped back home to pack. These were not people you kept waiting.
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Tora Aran Kei was in a terrible mood. He had arrived too late for the battle on the Sapphire Plains to make any difference. If that wasn’t bad enough, upon the suggestion of his insufferable counselor, he has been traveling in an airship for close to a month. He spent the first weeks in meditation but now, as they left the plains, the qi grew so thin that there was no way for him to cycle.
“Can you stop humming that intolerable tune,” he spat, glaring at the man seemingly set on making his life as unpleasant as possible. Yong Cytan Nao finished his current verse, before miming that he would cease to make any more sounds. Tora doubted that the purple-haired man had it in him to be quiet. “So, you’re sure? There was a spiritual anomaly there?” Aran asked for the dozenth time.
“Yes, Sect Leader, that’s what my brother’s scanner picked up.” Even his perfectly prim and patient answers were getting on Aran’s nerves.
“But that was years ago?” Aran asked.
“Yes, but only around ten years ago. Even if whatever it was that caused the disturbance is gone, something that strong would surely leave a trail.” Cytan assured him. He seemed completely at ease. Cytan’s relaxed smile and attitude was a spit in Aran’s face. He acted like this low aura environment didn’t bother him at all. Aran itched to kill him the first chance he got.
He took a breath, reigning in his blood lust. He was not strong enough yet. Though this brat was the least of his family, he was still far from defenseless. Besides, even if he could best him in a one-on-one fight, the repercussions of doing so would be unpleasant, to say the least. Aran needed more time, and he needed the treasure he was wasting his valuable time to find.
“The vice seneschal also informed me that a former disciple resides in the area,” Cytan said. The easy way he said those words made Aran nervous.
“Why should I care? Was he important?” It was hard to imagine any cultivator would choose to live in a pit like this.
“No, just an outer disciple,” Cytan responded. Aran nodded, pretty much the lowest of the low. “He ended up there after a spiritual injury lamed his meridians.” Aran gestured impatiently for him to get to the point. “I told the former disciple and the village elder that we would pay them a visit.”
“You what?! When were you going to tell me?” Aran had to physically control his hand from reaching out and choking the man. Without his usual cycling technique, managing his emotions was becoming a challenge.
“Apologies Sect Leader, no disrespect intended. You were so busy in the past weeks with your training that I couldn’t find time to tell you,” Cytan said with a bow.
“Besides, I thought it would be good for the other disciples to see you visit an old disciple. It would give them solace to know that we do not abandon our own, even the least of us. Plus, I hear that there may be some surprising talent in the village. At least that’s what the elder said. Even if we don’t find what you’re looking for, we may grab a few treasures yet.”
Aran couldn’t tell if Cytan was mocking him. That was one of the things he hated most about him. He tried too hard to be clever, hiding subtly concealed jabs in every word. Aran could care less about the disciples on this airship. They were weak, all of them. Their loss on the plains will reflect badly on the sect, and more importantly, on him.
“Fine, as long as it doesn’t waste any more time.” Aran knew arguing with him now would only look petty.
“No time wasted at all! The village is just by the site of the anomaly,” Cytan responded cheerily. “Also, right now might be a good time to mention that the elder is waiting to greet you below deck.”
Aran turned and walked away. He needed to get away from this man before he did something he would regret. He picked a disciple at random as he walked towards the training deck of the airship. “You, you’re going to help me…train.”
He needed to blow off some steam before meeting with anyone he wasn’t intending to kill.
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YiHua was struggling to carry the large hog on her back. She could hear the plodding footsteps of the other students around her as they continued with the hunt.
“Um, Elder Sister, would you like some help with that?” LiQin asked. Qin was the same age as her, but he treated her with deference, like all the other students in her year. All except Fang and her cronies.
“No, LiQin, I’m fine,” YiHua responded flatly. This was good strength training, why would she ask for help? That would defeat the purpose. Despite YiHua’s cold rebuke, Qin trailed behind her. The temple school regularly sent its students on missions that would help the village. While most of her classmates thought this was a waste of time, she saw it as a way to be useful and train simultaneously.
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Today, they were charged with hunting for provisions to enrich the village stores for the coming winter. The animals in the AnSan mountain range were simple prey. The boar on her back weighed half again her weight, but it was an easy kill. A sharp expulsion of qi to its head, and it was dead.
YiHua’s eyes flicked back to Qin who was trailing behind her like a lost duckling. She frowned slightly. She had just turned sixteen in the fall, and ever since, the comments from the village aunties and her parents had niggled at her. Her frown deepened as she replayed their words in her head. Despite being the strongest in her class, she was constantly treated like a waiting bride. Her feeling of doom only grew as she got older.
No matter. She would do what she wanted, even if that meant breaking the hearts of her parents and the village elders. She had chosen to come to JaLong for a reason. She wanted control of her own future, whatever her decision might be.
“LiQin, did you already reach your quota?” YiHua asked pointedly. She knew he had not. The hunt started only an hour ago and would continue into the late afternoon. Each student had to bring back three times their weight in meat, and she was one of the first to bring down large prey.
Qin looked away sheepishly. “No…not yet,” he mumbled.
“Then why are you moving back towards the carts? You have nothing to drop off,” YiHua asked.
After a pause Qin answered. “I wanted to see Elder Sister across the bridge. The winds are strong today, and the pig looked heavy.”
YiHua shook her head imperceptibly and rolled her eyes. A set of carts pulled by giant mountain goats waited for them across a bridge that connected neighboring peaks. FuJia village was nestled in a relatively flat valley with tall peaks surrounding it on each side. The really good prey preferred rocky terrain and higher altitudes, places the carts could not reach. Oftentimes, the hunting was easier compared to the long arduous trek back to the carts.
After nearly an hour of walking, YiHua’s back was covered in sweat. She breathed through her mouth to avoid gagging at the musky stench of the boar. Qin had offered to switch with her multiple times, but she refused. They were almost at the bridge. The vegetation grew sparse as the rich dirt transitioned into gray stone.
She could see blue skies ahead and breathed a sigh of relief. She had been trying to maintain steady cycling as she walked to reinforce her body, but that was significantly harder when breathing only through her mouth.
The winds buffeted her as she stepped onto the edge of the cliff. The bluff jutted out from the side of the mountain bringing them close to the other peak. Even so, there was a large gap between the mountains, connected by only a thin bridge. She set down her prize and rolled her shoulders in a stretch. In the corner of her eye, a movement caught her attention. She turned, hoping for easy prey but was met with a pair of deep blue irises.
A sable stared at her was curious round eyes. Its snow-white head stood out starkly against the barren landscape. At first, the animal was only trailing behind Shang, hungry for treats. But recently, it was following her too. YiHua, however, refused to feed it. From its rotund belly, she knew it was getting plenty of food—a good portion from Shang.
“I have nothing for you,” she said to the sable. The creature tilted its head dejectedly.
She turned, waving away Qin’s questioning look, and surveyed the bridge. The winds were strong today. The simple suspension bridge was swaying slowly. It was not unheard of that villagers would fall from the side of the bridge in high winds.
“Elder Sister, might I suggest we hold the pig between us? It would help distribute its weight evenly,” Qin asked.
YiHua had to admit he was talking sense. Carrying it on her back with most of the hog’s weight above her head, raised her center of gravity, making her footing unstable. Begrudgingly, she agreed with Qin’s suggestion.
They started to cross the bridge, YiHua leading the way, holding the pig’s front trotters. The bridge swung back and forth, and YiHua had to fight to keep her legs from shaking. They made slow progress, sometimes taking breaks when the winds were especially strong. The center of the bridge was the worst, the boards beneath her feet creaked eerily at her weight. This far from land, the view from over the bridge was mind-numbing.
Below them, she could see the tops of pines and the faint outline of the river. Above that was nothing, just air for a few thousand paces. YiHua had felt invincible since opening her tenth meridian, but even so, she was not deluded enough to think she would survive such a fall.
When they were past the center of the bridge, YiHua let out a sigh. The worst was behind them. They crouched low at another strong gust. The rope railing of the bridge warped with the direction of the wind.
They started moving again when the gust slowed. They both froze when a wave of qi washed over them in a ripple of pure energy. The feeling made her hair stand on end, and Qin gasped. The size of the wave was so large that she could see the tops of trees bend with the force far into the valley. It was coming from the west, the direction of the Sapphire Plains.
YiHua shivered to think about what cultivator or creature had caused such a disruption. Her animalistic instincts were telling her to run and hide at this pure display of strength, but she fought back against the feeling. From the trajectory of the blast, she knew its source was many li away. It was likely a byproduct of some greater struggle she was not privy to. She let out a shaky breath as the ambient qi returned to normal.
With an encouraging smile to Qin, they started moving again. The sooner they got to solid earth the better. They didn’t make it far before the boards underneath their feet started trembling. It was a mild tremor at first, but soon the shaking of the boards was visible to the naked eye. YiHua’s focus snapped toward the far side of the bridge—the bluff they had just vacated. On the outcropping of rock, the bridge was secured into the stone with a set of thick iron bolts. It was secured with multiple anchors for added safety.
Above the bluff where the end of the bridge was bolted down, a plume of dust was roiling down the mountainside. YiHua could see boulders, the size of large trees roll towards the bridge, it’s collision with the anchors of the bridge inevitable.
“RUN!” she shouted to Qin. They dropped the hog and bolted towards the safety of the carts.
“Ah!” Qin yelped. In his frantic escape, he’d tripped over the animal.
YiHua cursed and ran back to prop him up to a standing position. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward. There was a loud crack as the rocks securing the bridge broke apart under the force of the landslide. She did not look back. She had to slow her speed to match that of Qin, but the end of the bridge was so close. Only a few more lunges and she would be standing on hard ground. The bridge buckled beneath them as the rocks affixing the bolts fell from the cliff’s edge.
“Grab onto the bridge!” She jammed her feet into the rope railing and crouched low to grab onto the bridge planks with both hands. One second she was crouched on the floor of the bridge like a turtle, the next, she was swinging forward as the last strands of tension holding the bridge parallel to the ground snapped.
She and the bridge slammed into the side of the mountain. The force of the blow nearly made her lose her grip, but she held on.
Qin was not so lucky. YiHua screamed in alarm as she watched Qin fall backward, his hands not enough to hold on after being slammed face-first into the mountainside. But like her, he had stuck his foot into the webbing of the railing. The ropes were twisted in a way that wrapped around his ankle, stopping his fall to the gully beneath. Qin’s eyes were wide with fear. The side of his face was smeared with blood from a cut on his cheek. He was hanging upside down, caught with only one foot.
YiHua let out a shaky breath and surveyed their situation. The bridge was hanging by one end. Its baseboards were parallel to the side of the cliff. They were a dozen paces from the top of the overhang. YiHua shifted her weight slightly. The bridge barely swayed, and its anchor seemed stable. Now that the bridge was against the cliff, the harsh gusts of winds were not able to reach them. Small consolation.
YiHua began her descent towards Qin. She kept her eyes focused on the rock wall in front of her. Her stomach lurched with every creak and sway of the bridge. When she descended far enough that her waist lined up with Qin's foot, she jerked down and grasped Qin's robes with one hand, hauling him up.
"Grab on!" She grunted. Qin was not heavy, but her hands were slick with sweat, and she didn't trust her hold on his robes. Qin's hands wrapped around her forearm in a vice-like grip. His ankle chose that moment to dislodge from the railing and suddenly, his whole weight was on YiHua’s right arm. She somehow managed to cycle throughout, bringing qi into her meridians and fortifying her body. She flexed her arm and dragged Qin up beside her. The boy was shaking, shocked, and maybe lightheaded from the blood loss.
“Now grab onto the baseboards,” she instructed. Qin seemed reluctant to release his grip on her arm. His hands were wrapped around so tight that his nails bit into her skin. She gave him what, hopefully, was a confident smile, and he finally let go one hand at a time. “Good, good,” She couldn’t help but take on an overindulgent tone. “Now you climb up first, I’ll be right behind you.” She hoped if his shaking arms and legs were to fail, she would be fast enough to catch him.
Qin nodded before making a slow ascent up the bridge. He was using each board like a rung on a ladder, climbing hand over hand. YiHua kept her attention on his form, carefully watching for lapses in strength or coordination. Qin was a cultivator too, and a competent one at that. His limbs did not fail him. He made his way to the overhang and gracelessly pulled his legs over.
YiHua heard an exclamation of relief as his body touched solid ground. To his credit, he did not forget her in his excitement. He laid flat on his stomach, reaching down to help YiHua’s transition off the bridge. She breathed out heavily as her back rested on harsh gravel. Nothing had ever felt so right.
She couldn’t muster a reaction when she felt small paws land on her stomach. The sable was sitting primly on her chest licking its paws.
How had it gotten here before them? The thought made her break out in laughter. Of course, the weasel would be alive and none worse for wear. The sable eyed her wearily. Her laughter had driven him off his perch and back into the undergrowth.