It was not yet noon on the day the world broke when the first inklings of the devastation to come were felt.

Liao Hua had barely entered the main compound when the earth trembled. Wood panels almost seemed to shiver, hanging gold adornments jangling unpleasantly. The poled holding the Clan’s blue banners shook with the ground. Hua’s stomach lurched as well, stabilising herself with a spark of Qi to her legs. The tremor faded quickly.

She sniffed, scenting out for any smoke. None yet. They would need to keep candles and torches unlit in case another tremor came. Hua looked for a servant and found a few scrambling in the hallway, juggling the weight of a large jade carving. With a sigh, Hua helped them place it back before it dropped and jade shards landed everywhere. That done, she left a warning to keep the torches unlit for a few hours more.

A lightning strike on a clear day and a tremor. Someone must have infuriated the gods today. Committed so heinous a crime that the Earth had to know their judgement was being exacted.

She cleaned herself quickly, throwing on a more casual blouse and dress. The dress was cinched high and loosely pleated in a way that made it look like it was always billowing about. Hua liked it because it afforded her the most freedom of motion. The Clan grounds were on varying levels of the hill overlooking the city, hidden by great cypress trees and oaks that had seen centuries. They were towering things that provided shade in the summer and cover during the wet months. Now, she saw them as a wildfire, each yellow or red leaf that fell an ember that coloured the dark stones and green grasses.

It was very easy to go from a courtyard to a well-kept garden to a stone path winding down the hillside. Sometimes, Hua still got lost.

The resonant sounds of a bamboo flute were familiar. She followed it, padding along on silent feet. Underneath a tree, she saw a man in the middle of practice, dizi held to his lips.

“Cousin Ji, is that you?”

He jumped out of his skin in fright, blue robes fluttering about. They were made of a tougher, cheaper material than the usual silk. Still adorned with the kingfisher that was the heraldry of the main lineage because nothing short of a headwrap or a weimao was hiding that distinctive white hair.

“Don’t scare me like that right after weird things happen.”

“I’ll make sure to scare you only after normal things from now on. I think normalcy happens more regularly.” His green eyes narrowed in irritation. They were much darker than Hua’s set. “Where are you heading out to with all those coins?”

“I can go to the city when I want,” he said, biting his lip nervously. “I just want to buy some Cultivation aids.”

“Is that what we’re calling going to see that baker girl you’re fucking?” she asked, switching to a more informal register.

“Hua! You can’t just say that. What if the Elders were around? Then we’d both get caned.”

“I think you, the person trying to learn the mythical arts of dual cultivation with a mortal, would get the caning. I am just the innocent maiden shocked that my cousin is an immoral beast who hungers for mortal loins.”

“If you’re innocent then I’m an enlightened Cultivator who found the Golden Core. How do you even know about that? I didn’t tell anyone.”

“My brother mentioned it.”

“Fuck Weijiang,” Cousin Ji said, giving up on the fiction of politeness. “Even when he’s not here he tries to ruin my life and reputation. Is he going to be doing this when he’s the Patriarch? Damn it. I’d call him an annoying bastard of seven fathers, but I wouldn’t insult the memory of your Lady mother. And anyway, look, I just want to go to town and buy a few things. That’s all.”

“Just keep things to playing songs on your flute and don’t buy her a betrothal gift. The Elders wouldn’t let you get married to her. Especially not your grandfather.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Not like he doesn’t still have three… You heard nothing from me.”

“Oh no, he has three what? I want to hear.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“You know, I realise I didn’t see you at the training grounds today,” she said slowly, letting her smile grow wide enough to show teeth. “Maybe you could tell me there.”

Her cousin paled, whatever blood he had vanishing. She wouldn’t be surprised if he coughed it out. “Come on Hua, don’t do this today.”

“Do what?” she asked, leaning forward.

“That thing where you act like a bored leopard instead of a person.”

“And what do I get if I leave you alone?”

“I know where the Clan bakers are hiding the mooncakes. I’ll get you some, I promise.”

She let her wide smile linger, watching as he shuffled nervously. Right as sweat broke out on his forehead, she let it fade to something sweeter. “This is why you’re my favourite cousin. I’ll hold you to that.”

Weiji shuddered, deflating. “I think I’m going to run away now.”

“You do that.”

***

The journey to the city wasn’t that far from the Clan grounds. They held the hills overlooking the bustling city. It wasn’t the largest in the province, that distinction belonged to the Zhao Clan’s capital. But it had the great benefit of being alongside the Liao River—from which they took their name—that eventually led to a sea and then the open ocean. They may not have had the largest city, the most productive mines, or the biggest dockyard, but the Province in one way or another flowed through Liao territory.

She walked down the grand staircase built at great expense a century ago, when her father was still young. The hardest part of leaving was getting signed out at the Entrance Gate if she didn’t want to be hassled on the way back. The system was archaic, annoying, and existed to serve the dual purpose of discouraging clansmen from moving freely and to sometimes awe guests with a panoply of armoured soldiers.

The road to the more commercial districts was well-maintained, kept clean and orderly under threat of an irritable Liao strangling you for littering. Hua had only done that three times, but the reputation for people with silver hair and green eyes had been cemented long before she was born. So, it was no surprise that people cleared their way and bowed to her as was her due. She slowed to buy an almond cake from a merchant who looked deathly afraid the entire time, his Jurchen accent deepening as he spoke.

A shame. She wasn’t going to hurt someone who made her desserts.

“Hua, lift me!”

She had but a moment to turn before someone bumped into her with the force of an uncoordinated bull that got into the wine supply with a burning log lashed to its horns. Hua absorbed the impact easily, turning around with the sudden momentum as she got her arms around the girl’s thighs.

Qing, the Jade Carver’s daughter, smiled so bright it outshone the sun. At least, Hua felt that it did, her heart dancing to an eager beat. Her dark eyes were alight with joy, highlighting the vim and vigour that infused every aspect of her. There was a certain feeling just before lightning struck, when the air was charged, the earth prepped, and the heavens ready to unleash their power. Holding Qing was like that, Earth and Lightning Qi intermingling without restraint. And a warmth she could not explain where her arms held Qing. Every point of contact like static.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“I can’t keep catching you every time you jump without looking,” she said, indifferent to the rest of the world. Couldn’t even say where she was at this moment for all that her thoughts had been washed away by the landslide called Qing.

“I can jump because I know you’ll always be there to catch me. Besides, if I wasn’t around, who’d put up with you all the time? Your cousins?”

Hua couldn’t resist the smile creeping across her face. A Cultivator held superb muscular control. Qing made her feel as in control as a child taking their first steps. Maybe if she was being generous, she might be a toddler picking up a sword for the first time.

“They like me.”

“I don’t know how you can’t tell the difference between affection and fear but I think it’s because you stuffy clan folks don’t spend time around us normal folks.”

“Normal, says my hypocritical Daoist.”

When Qing squirmed, Hua set her down and wasn’t at all surprised when her hand was taken. She was more than a head taller than Qing, but Qing was as solid in body and dependable in spirit as the Earth Qi she cultivated. If she held her ground, Hua might be able to resist Qing leading her wherever she pleased. Maybe. It wouldn’t matter. If Qing wanted to go into the heart of Yu territory, Hua would protect her from their rival clan.

“I’m very normal,” Qing said, leading them down the path of her whims. Down the main markets and past narrow roads with beggars, it made no difference to Qing. “No one ever says otherwise. How would you even know what normal looks like what with all your legends and lineages. Normal people don’t have heroes for their fathers. Normal people don’t have secret Clan Scriptures that you can’t read on pain of death or marriage. Marriage! Who in their right mind wants to get married just to look at some prayers? Do I look like I’d make a good wife to some boring elder? I would not suit black teeth at all. Nope. Not me.”

“You’re just too stubborn for everyone else to argue with. Easier to convince the Yellow River not to flood than to win an argument with you.”

“You’re ridiculous. I don’t know why I even missed you while you were gone.”

Hua’s smile widened and she hid it by looking at the retaining wall they walked beside, nobly holding up the weight of a house that loomed over them. It was one in a series that rose ever higher on the hilly slope.

“I was only gone two weeks,” Hua said. “Maybe next time, you can come with me. We could spend the time together. Just the two of us.”

Qing shook her head. “I don’t think I’d enjoy all the fighting you get up to. I like living the way I do.”

“You could live a greater life.”

“I’m happy just the way I am. Maybe you should stay with me instead,” Qing suggested lightly, fading into the shade cast by the retaining wall, speaking with the ease of someone repeating an old argument. “Your closest friend isn’t just supposed to leave you all the time.”

“I don’t want to fight you.”

“Liao Hua, begging for peace. Never thought I’d see the day.”

I’d only ever ask you for peace, she thought but could not say. Even mocking and slightly cruel, Qing was captivating, a study in light and shadow.

“You know I have a duty to my clan.”

“Yeah, duty, that worthless thing. Is there anything you’d throw it away for?”

“Don’t ask me questions I can’t answer. Are we really going to have an argument? Is it worth it?”

“Maybe it is.”

“Sometimes, I’d rather deal with the Yellow River than you. At least it doesn’t get upset just because you talk to it.”

Qing stomped her foot on Hua’s toes, tough earth cracking. Hua’s smile tightened, but she refused to show any pain.

“Hua, if you call me worse than a national emergency, I will kick you in the face.”

Hua blinked slowly, catlike, at Qing’s frown. “How do you plan on reaching that high?”

“Like this.”

With a deep breath and bent knees, Qing jumped high as she could, up and to the left. Leaving the shadow of the retaining wall to land upon it, exposed to sunlight and warmth. She stumbled, tittered, nearly fell over. But she just about managed to balance on the retaining wall.

She sent Hua an impish smile and sent out a quick kick. Hua was ready to catch her just as she caught Qing’s ankle before the foot could hit her. She could tug Qing back and make her fall again. But there was a flicker of genuine fear in Qing’s eyes that had Hua letting go. Not everyone enjoyed heights.

She tensed her muscles, bent her knees, and launched herself forward. Forced her body to rotate and for a moment, a single moment, she was level with Qing.

Upside down like this, Qing’s frown was a delightful smile.

She landed in a handstand on a wall parallel to the Qing’s. She pushed off the wall and flipped back down to Qing, landing right in front of her friend, and tilting her head down in an exaggerated manner. Qing was forced to lift her chin and reveal the column of her throat. There were three black marks running vertically along the left side of her neck. Hua resisted the urge to press her fingers against them. Forced herself to focus on Qing’s glare which was a mistake. The sun fell upon them, brightening and revealing even more of her warm brown eyes.

“Show off.”

“You could do the same if you bothered trying more. You’ve already entered Qi condensation.”

Qing dropped down and Hua followed helplessly half a moment later. There was no point to her following except to remind Qing who was taller. And, to stay close.

“Just because I can doesn’t mean I want to be jumping everywhere, dear Hua. I swear, you Clan babies don’t understand how odd you are.”

Qing patted her cheek, once, then twice. Almost a slap. Maybe it was for someone weaker. Hua caught her hand and kept it there, memorising the impression of callouses against her cheek. It sometimes felt impossible to behave around Qing, to keep her treacherous heart at bay. There were words that she could never say, not as a daughter let alone the daughter of the Liao Patriarch. She hated it sometimes. Hated it viscerally. Hated time, hated circumstance, hated fate for it made a mockery of her heart, dangling something she could never have.

“You could join my household. I’d show you we aren’t that odd.”

“Not all of us can spend our days with empty heads punching at walls. Some of us have to earn a living. Do more than meditate all day and call it doing my duty.”

Well maybe if you joined me more you would reach the Foundation in a few years, she thought but did not say. The old argument wasn’t worth rehashing. Qing was talented, too talented to remain a jade carver's daughter the rest of her life. Had the Liao Scripture been compatible with Qing’s natural elemental inclination, then she would have been adopted immediately. Tempering her body through carving jade—and running everywhere to keep up with Hua—was a great talent. But better she work in service of this city than be married off to a rival with a more compatible Scripture.

“Maybe you could be my dance partner. I hear the dancers in the capital drown in gold. Practise your steps longer and you might be good enough.”

“I’ve always hated dancing. I just indulge you.”

“I could hire you as my personal maidservant.”

“You know I’d kill you in your sleep. Actually, that’s not such a bad plan now that I think of it. I could kill you and run off with whatever fancy jewels you keep. Then I’d never have to listen to you talking about your Dao of Nonsense.”

“Fool, the Dao of Nonsense is the great Dao itself, the only Way that brings one to enlightenment. You would dare disparage this Young Mistress’s efforts?”

“Oh no, forgive this humble fool of a servant. She knew not what she was speaking.”

“Bow a hundred times before this Young Mistress or face my wrath.”

“As you wish.”

Qing slammed her head forward as she brought Hua’s face down, striking Hua’s nose square on. The suddenness of it shocked Hua dumb.

A person in the first star of Qi condensation should not have been able to hurt Hua. She was halfway through the major realm and a trained practitioner of the war arts. Trained and tempered to endure pain.

It still hurt worse than getting stabbed. And she’d been stabbed before. A few times.

“Your head is harder than fucking steel! I’ll get you back for that.”

“That was a bow!”

Qing laughed and for once it didn’t sound like starlight. Maybe Hua’s anger was so bright a flare that the light of the stars was lost in it. It mattered little because she gave chase after Qing who darted down the street, sliding beneath a cabbage cart. Hua nearly decided to barrel through it but her pride was already stung, no reason to wound it further. She leapt gracefully, making certain to twirl so that her skirt fluttered about like a spinning wheel.

The tremor from earlier had overturned a few of the merchant racks. At least Qing didn’t add to it.

She landed on a roof and gave chase. With her enhanced senses, she could hear what people thought of their antics. Some amusement, some bemusement, but mostly resignation. Hua was Hua and Ching was Ching and they’d been Hua-and-Ching since they could toddle about. People got used to their antics or very quickly remembered what happened to mortals who embarrassed a Cultivator.

“There’s ninety-nine of those waiting for you if you catch me,” Qing called out, unable to see or sense Hua.

You’re gonna have ninety-nine problems by the time I’m done if you.

She stalked Qing carefully, letting her run along, and when she was ready, she pounced. Qing shrieked as Hua slammed into her and they tumbled down a grass slope. Qing managed to rise to her feet and would have run if not for Hua holding her by the wrist. Her hardest tug didn’t make a difference as Hua was as solid as the world.

“Hua, you know I didn’t mean it,” Qing said nervously.

“Do I really?”

“Young Misteress, won’t you forgive me?” she murmured. The title was a delight when it came from Qing. She wished to hear them again and again.

Qing ran her fingers through Hua’s silver hair, twirling it around her calloused finger. Few saw her hair and simply saw a friend. It made most stop and stare, afraid of even getting near her.

Unfortunately for Qing, Hua was a spiteful person.

She grabbed Qing by her arms and began turning. Qing’s eyes widened. “Don’t you—"

Far too late as Hua flung her into a pile of hay.

“Hua!”

She laughed, unable to help it.

The horizon glistened gold, amber far as the eye could see across the river. Theirs was the Amber Sea Province because it was said once the Yellow Emperor beheld the region and mistook their endless wheat fields for a great sea.

Qing dragged herself out of the haystack.

The world was this beautiful, perfect thing for just one moment longer. One moment she could never have known to savour or adore. Had she a talent for divination, she would have known to engrave Qing’s furious expression in her memory. The flush on her face, the straw in her hair, a vital presence backdropped by blue river and amber fields.

The moment of perfection ended as lightning struck and the world broke.