“He didn’t see me, did he?”
Her chest tightened with panic, causing her breaths to come in short gasps as her trembling hands fumbled around, hurriedly shutting off her connection to the iridescent portal, causing it to flicker, before shimmering out of existence.
A heavy silence filled the air as she stood on her balcony, gazing up at the massive globe that loomed in the night sky before her.
The banded planet was an awe-inspiring sight, girdled with a thick belt of yellow from which innumerable threads branched off, spreading across the planet like veins. She looked upon it and couldn’t help but wonder which of those thin, glittering strands of gold represented his little slice of existence.
Perhaps even now he was staring up at the moon, meeting her eyes despite all the distance between them.
She turned, running to throw herself upon her bed. The boy had been weak, far weaker than he should be at his age. But he had been so well proportioned… She cut off the thought, crushing her face into a pillow.
His aura, however, had been something else entirely. People couldn’t hide from her eyes. She saw all the hidden things that made them as they were, even the tiny hint of brutality he’d hidden away, lurking somewhere beneath the surface. Seeing that had made her shiver, and she couldn’t help but worry about what kind of man he was.
She’d seen other things as well. A hint of divinity from a bloodline so weak it was nearly nonexistent, and the sort of inner strength that shone from within, which few others had.
Despite his apparent weakness he’d appeared fearless to her eyes, perhaps even regal. A cub still half grown, but one day destined to be a lion among men. Her cheeks burned at the thought of the sharp angular face that was still fixed in her vision, but her thoughts were cut off as the door to her room slammed open, followed by the stern voice of Tian Sheng.
“Qing’er, what are you doing?” He said with a hint of accusation, cocking his head back like a dog as he sniffed at the air.
She froze, the blood draining away as she looked up to see his cold eyes scanning the room, a subtle frown tugging at the corner of his lip.
“I smelt a hint of…” He cut off as his nose wrinkled, and a disapproving look crossed his face, as it always did when she’d done something to let him down.
“I did inform you that the Patriarch of the Winding Way was visiting today, didn’t I?” His voice was weighty with disapproval as he looked her up and down. “He’s traveled all this way to personally seek advice from the oracle, and you lie here, frivolously wasting your powers." She’d prefer if he sounded upset, but he almost never did. Instead, he wielded disappointment like a cudgel, and every word fell like a blow upon her fragile ego. ”You have a duty Qing’er, there are people relying on you to use your gifts for the proper purpose.”
Her shoulders fell, a knot forming in her stomach as she looked down, nodding her head in agreement. Her cheeks flushed, turning red with shame.
“Qing’er, has the temple ever wronged you?” His voice hardened as he continued, sounding almost betrayed, and he gave her a look that was filled with condemnation.
Yun Luo Qing wilted under his words, as she always did when they came. In truth, Tian Sheng had always been good to her. She was familiar with the high priest, after all he’d been the one to help care for her for most of her life. He was an important man too, only one step below the Hierophant himself, and despite his important position he’d still chosen to personally look after her.
She felt worthless at the thought that she might have let him down.
“I was onl-” She began, but the high priest cut her off, his voice sounding almost frustrated as he continued speaking.
“Since birth you have worn only the best clothing, sustaining yourself with only the finest spiritual nectars and heavenly fruits. We lifted you up from the earth where you lived in squalor, and gave you a home, teaching you cultivation and providing you with the finest techniques and materials in order for you to fulfill your potential.”
“And all we’ve asked,” his voice went low, filled with vexation. “All we’ve asked is for you to use your talents to help others.” He met her eyes, stressing the last word.
She nodded, feeling a deep sense of chagrin as she heard his words. She’d been blessed with a gift, and she’d squandered it, using it for her own selfish desires.
“Have we asked too much of you?” This last was said almost regretfully, coming from beneath his breath, as though he were truly talking to himself instead of her. His eyes fell to the floor, and his shoulders sagged, appearing truly remorseful.
Her stomach churned, guilt surging within Qing’er as she heard his words, and she couldn’t help but jump to assuage the man's fears.
“Not at all!” She fiercely denied. “It was but a tiny thing, please don’t be mad. I was only practicing some small tricks! I’m not even tired, I can still do six, twelve, or twenty divinations, whatever you need!”
It would tax her body, sorely so, but she truly didn’t mind. After all, the temple had taken her in and given her a wonderful life, asking so little in return. How would it look if she turned her back on them now?
Only… The Patriarch they wanted her to divine was sure to possess an unfathomable cultivation, and peering into the ever-shifting currents of his destiny would be a troublesome task, one that would leave her body indisposed for weeks to come. Even so, it was a small price to pay to help others.
“That’s good.” Tian Sheng said with relief. “The Patriarch had already made a rather sizable donation to the temple, and I’d hate to have to inform him that you were indisposed.”
She looked over her shoulder as she followed the high priest out of the room, her thoughts turning back to the boy she was destined to never meet.
Qing’er had never heard of the Festival of the New Moon. She’d grown up in the temple, where days contained a symbolic meaning, and the day the moon came closest to the earth was referred to as the lover’s lament. It was a day for star-crossed lovers who were destined to never meet.
She’d had a foolish fancy, wondering what, in another life, might have been. So she’d cracked open the veil, using the auspicious alignment of the heavens to assist her in seeing the person she was fated to never know. It was nothing more than a fantasy, and if it wasn’t for the confluence of the celestial bodies making it a trivial task, she would have never even considered using her divinatory abilities for her own devices.
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After all, the temple needed her.
Even so, she felt a strong urge to help him well up within her. The temple had told her to use her gift to help others, so wouldn’t it be alright if she gave fate a little nudge to help him along?
But what could he need?
She eyed the priest’s back before raising her hand, absently playing with the small crystal that hung from a thin golden chain around her neck. It was a divinatory aid, the first she’d ever acquired. Her talents had outstripped it long ago, but it still carried quite a bit of sentimental value to her.
Besides, it was still capable of performing a number of small tasks.
It wouldn’t even require that much energy; he was just a tiny qi condensator after all…
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“Damn your mother!”
Yu Chen couldn’t help but let loose a curse as he stared at the sprawling complex before him.
He’d been swindled, tricked into paying forty spirit stones for directions to the largest business in the entire city. The informant had called this a workshop? Ming & Co. Shipwrights, the words had been scrawled in large letters across a massive sign that hung above the gates of a fence that blocked off nearly a third of the dockyard. It wasn’t a single warehouse that lay within, but instead a series of them, all painted a gaudy blue and set between open courtyards that were filled with various building materials and equipment.
Multiple quays stretched forth, extending far into the river, and he could see hundreds of men moving throughout the area. They were hard at work, unloading shipments of wood off of the heavy-laden carts arriving in an endless stream, and hammering nails into ships that lay half built in the courtyards. Others were swarming across ships that hung in the air, swinging in the covered drydocks that lay within the complex.
Yu Chen pinched his brows, a low sigh of frustration escaping his lips at the small loss he had taken. Gathering himself he approached the gates and flagged down one of the men guarding the compound.
“Excuse me, I’m looking to speak with Jiang Ming. Is he available?”
The man gave him a dumbfounded look, exchanging glances with another nearby guard before letting out a shared belly laugh.
“You want to talk to the old man?” The man hooted. “And who are you supposed to be, the Emperor himself? Even the Governor wouldn’t stroll up asking to talk to Old Jiang.”
Yu Chen scratched his head uncertainly at the words.
He hadn’t expected the man to be someone of such importance. Truthfully, he’d expected to find an old man holed up in a workshop somewhere, tinkering on things, and was still taken aback at the sheer size of the place he’d arrived at.
He examined the guard closely, but he was a mortal through and through. In fact, all the men streaming throughout the compound were mortals, and the ships they worked on were quite ordinary, although they were still extraordinary to Yu Chen’s eyes, who’d never seen such vessels up close.
He couldn’t help but feel surprised at the turn of events. It was uncommon to see an immortal so tightly wound into the mortal world. Although perhaps it wasn’t so strange, he thought, as his eyes drifted towards the nearby yellow river. A deep sense of spirituality rose off of it, even this close to the shore. Perhaps even mortal vessels required a touch of something more to survive for long upon the water.
“Is there someone else I could talk to?” Yu Chen said, turning his attention back to the guard. “I’m afraid I have a request that only he can help me with.”
“Ah, one of those huh?” The man said as he stroked his face, a glimmer of recognition appeared in his eyes, and his behavior became much more obsequious.
“I regret to inform you that Elder Jiang is currently unavailable. He’s currently working on a very important commission, but I can take you to one of his apprentices, I’m sure they are more than capable of assisting you.” The man’s tone had become oddly formal and stilted, and it had the sound of an oft rehearsed statement, as though the guard were used to repeating it.
Yu Chen simply nodded in reply.
The man seemed relieved at his response, as though he’d expected Yu Chen to argue, and his head bobbed up and down, bowing low as he led him into the compound. He needn’t have been worried. The last thing Yu Chen would do in a situation like this was cause a scene.
After all, his cardinal rule was to avoid the ire of those more powerful than him, and this old man Jiang must be quite powerful indeed, if everything he saw was any indication. It would be unreasonable to expect him to appear every time a fellow at Qi Condensation showed up to his doors.
Yu Chen could only hope one of the apprentices could help him.
He followed the guard as he led him on a trailing path throughout the compound, watching in interest as the men within went about their routine, building the ships that would one day sail across the yellow river.
The air was cooler, now that summer had run its course, but the light of the midday sun was still fairly hot, causing the men clambering about the skeletal frame of a half-finished ship to appear drenched in sweat. Hammers struck against nails with a rhythmic pounding that reverberated throughout the air, forming a steady beat that echoed across the busy dockyards.
More men milled around the massive piles of wood that lay around the edges of the worksite, raw and unpolished, delivered from the nearby lumber mills. They went about their work as they expertly sawed the planks to the proper length and ensured they were a uniform width, producing massive slats that were then carted to the waiting skeleton by other men, where the wood groaned in protest as it was shaped to the ship's body and nailed into place.
The entire process was alien, foreign to him. Before he’d arrived at the banks of the yellow river the largest source of water he’d seen was perhaps a lake, or pond and he could scarcely imagine the necessity behind such large vessels.
And they were large vessels.
They were building ships that varied in size, some nearly large enough to fit his entire village. The smallest produced would easily bear twenty men, with others easily holding double, or triple that, or perhaps even more.
The gate guard didn’t stop until they reached a small warehouse with no discernable openings that sat in a remote corner, offset from the rest. Approaching the door, he drummed a quiet beat in a rapid series of movements that seemed to hold some meaning, before waiting in silence for a reply.
It didn’t take long. Yu Chen heard a series of locks turning and latches unlocking, before the door swung open to reveal a bustling workshop, starkly illuminated by a powerful light source that radiated from up above. He blinked stars out of his eyes as he looked around, seeing half a dozen men within, each one emitting the aura of a cultivator.
The mortal man bowed low, greeting the men inside before speaking.
“Seniors, this one came to the gates asking about Elder Jing, and said he was looking for something special. I brought him here, hoping you could assist him."
One of the nearby cultivators looked up from his work and gave the man a nod. The gate guard shot him a grateful look, before turning and hurriedly leaving, as though he wished to be as far away as possible.
The apprentice within, wearing the stained and marred robes of a craftsman turned and looked at Yu Chen.
“Well, what do we have here?” He asked, musingly.