Guo Gang listened amicably through Yi Cao’s entire story. Yi Cao found himself close to tears as he described both the ambush and the threats made to his cousin if he failed to return, and almost spilled his tea at one point when he tried to cover his face without putting it down first. He left out most of the details. Names especially, which made parts of the story confusing and even disjointed where he went back to explain that he’d been given one mission by most of the elders and another entirely by elder Xia, and that only elder Xia had threatened his cousin while he’d told his cousin to go to the other elders in the meantime. Only, now maybe that wasn’t necessary because the Young Master had robbed the sect before he left and made enough of a mess on Elleppu that maybe he wouldn’t be missed despite the… mission… he’d been sent on, and failed.

Yi Cao made it very important to the story that he’d failed, hyper aware, suddenly, of the pendulus weight of the pendant around his neck and the old man’s comments about fake sects that couldn’t cultivate on Ki Barren rocks and Zihan’s comments about exporting dirt.

The old man nodded as Yi Cao slurped at his tea to shut himself up and hide how much the retelling had shaken him. It felt good to tell the story, or parts of it, but it felt, terrible too, to know how much had happened in just a day or two.

“Quite a tale, quite a tale.” The old man muttered. He stroked his chin in thought. “Did, Elleppu station, suffer any damage during the battle?”

Yi Cao shook his head quickly.

“Ah, that is good.” The old man nodded. “The artificers don’t like cultivators much. Don’t like most of the folk’s differing powers, but cultivators seem to have a special place in their disregard. There are rules about them.” He set his tea down and cupped his chin as he went on.

"I, for example, cannot sell cultivation manuals or techniques without the governor looking at them first. Mostly it permits manuals for merging technomancy with cultivation, or your most basic foundation scriptures, but the tax on even those defy the balance of the heavens, and you don’t want to even imagine the amount of work put into limiting access to sources. The few false sects who’ve scraped together something like a grotto pay exorbitant fees to keep them, simply exorbitant.”

The old man shook his head. “They don’t approve of powers they don’t control, so they limit those of us with access to the otherworldly powers. There used to be a handful of immortals who called this place home, as I understand it, during the first so called wave of exiles, before they broke up this planet or the navigators took permanently to the void and built their network of stations.” He waved his cup of tea between them. “Went badly for everyone involved. So they say.”

He leaned back in his seat and rubbed his back. “There haven’t been any immortals on the station for as long as I’ve been here.” He smiled. “And I’ve been here for a very long time. Not the four hundred years, of course, but I remember when the fifth and sixth were still one rock.” He leaned back. “That was something to see, I’ll say, particularly from the third, which is where I watched it from, though you can see recordings from anywhere in the tangle. Nothing like in person though.”

Yi Cao looked down at the dregs floating in his tea as the old man poured himself a new cup.

“I really just came here looking for an information kiosk.” Yi Cao told him. “I didn’t really mean, to…”

“Ah. An information kiosk. None of those here.” The old man waved a hand as though to indicate the tiled vault around them. “None on the whole station in fact. The floors, you’ll notice, aren’t the animated things they are on Elleppu. Too many changes to the layout going on at any one time.”

He blew on his tea then sighed. “I remember the last time I was on Elleppu, some, oh, thirty some odd years ago perhaps. During my last real vacation to the homeworld. I had some health issues time on the ground helped balance out, and the Ki.” He shook his head. “You have no idea what it’s like to suffer Ki deprivation until you step back into a Ki filled environment. The whole world is a grotto. The whole dimension.” He shook his head again. “How I’d love to go back, If I knew I could still afford to return.”

He blew mournfully at his tea.

“My, master,” Yi Cao said, “required me to find some place for us to stay, and I don’t know my way around the station. A girl at one of the stalls outside told me you could help.”

Guo Gang’s eyes sparkled. “Ah. That girl.” He shook his head. “Sometimes this old man makes a point of pestering her while her grandfather is gone, tell her stories so she won’t forget the old world. Too many youngsters born in this place think it’s normal to go replacing bits of themselves with metal and carbon fiber and never consider that they cut themselves off from the heavens by doing so.” He held up one had twisting it as though in demonstration. “Can’t cut channels through something that isn’t flesh. Not usefully anyways.”

He switched the cup from one hand to another then took a sip. “I suppose she told you I was a Liason?”

The translation into techish wasn’t perfect and Yi Cao hesitated. “She might have said, something like that.”

The old man chuckled softly to himself. “Yes. Yes. I used to work for the Terminal Heights Labor agency. Recruiter for a handful of years on the homeworld, looking for “talented and promising recruits”, or so I told them. Anyone with a pulse and four working limbs would be a more accurate estimation of my, clientele.”

The old man laughed and waved his hand. “Then, a few decades on the fifth helping orient acquisitions to life on the rock. Met a lot of people that way. A lot of people.”

“Do you know a place where we could stay?” Yi Cao inquired.

“Of course.” The old man nodded, still lost somewhere in his own memories. “Just here on the third there are more than a dozen hostels, each with some unique charm they use as their selling point. For one of our kind I’d recommend the Inestimable Comfort, or Young Mao’s. Both reputable. Both comfortable. Modest prices. As good as any of the agency first hire barracks and perhaps a little better. The food will certainly be better, if you go to the Young Mao’s. The Inestimable Comfort doesn’t serve their own meals.”

Yi Cao grimaced. “I was ordered to find the, cheapest… and the shadiest.” He looked down at his drink. “One with a bar or common room attached.”

The old man pulled himself out of his reverie to look at Yi Cao. “Ah.” He said.

Yi Cao grimaced again.

Old Man Guo Gang pushed himself off the couch and delicately balanced his cup of tea on top of the book he’d been reading when Yi Cao came in.

“It sounds to me like you may be in some more serious trouble than you may realize. The old man said. “If this Young Master of yours doesn’t know much about Aarppaa station he could find it to be less amenable than the world he came from.”

He adjusted his glasses and studied Yi Cao through their lenses. “That is to say, he could find himself stuck here, run out of money, and find himself serving at one of the agencies or selling out your services to them to pay his expenses, instead of on the grand adventure he seems to have planned.”

Guo gang sighed and turned to his shelves. “You could be stuck here for the rest of your life, if he isn’t careful.”

Yi Cao nodded while Guo Gang made his way into the neat stacks of books to a corner where he touched a row of booklets tucked on one shelf. He removed one and shook his head as he looked at it.

“The pride of the young to squander potential on a whim. Theirs and others.”

He tottered back and handed the booklet to Yi Cao. “This will provide some help to you I think.” He said. “I used to give a copy to each new hire at the agency.” He waved one hand at the book. “There will be stuff in there that won’t be helpful. Understanding a handheld. I think there’s a section on worksuits, which you obviously won’t have to deal with. It’s the other things you want to read. The Four Races. Credits and Silver. Finding Relief.”

He chuckled and adjusted his glasses again, peering at a speck in one lens. “I can’t tell you the number of people who could have avoided trouble just by reading that book.”

The booklet was small, no bigger than the palm of Yi Cao’s hand, emblazoned with an image of a happy man in some sort of alien armor, face covered by transparent glass while he smiled, hand raised in greeting. The word “Welcome” ran across the top in bright red with the sigil of the Terminal Heights Sect, or agency he supposed, stamped underneath it.

“A few simple words of advice.” The old man said.

Yi Cao looked up to find him wiping at the inside of the lens with a part of his robe.

“Don’t mess with anyone bigger than you are, or more numerous if they all look the same. Just like us these people can have powers and blessings you can’t begin to understand. Even after fifty years on this station I couldn’t explain how half of them work, even if I can say why.”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Satisfied with the glasses he plopped them back on his nose and studied Yi Cao through them.

“Whatever you do.” He added. “Don’t make an enemy of anyone with metal or carbon fiber in places they should have flesh. They’re connected to the station Governor, and anyone without an agency or labor crew means less than nothing to the Governor in comparison to the station’s techromantics.”

Yi Cao nodded and the old man nodded back, satisfied.

“What is carbon fiber?” Yi Cao asked.

“Black.” Guo Gang replied as he levered himself back onto the couch with a grunt. He flexed one veined and wrinkly hand before them. “Usually like veins, or tendons.”

Yi Cao nodded as the old man picked up his tea from the nearby desk. “Te’klubs is the only hostel that would satisfy your master’s requirements.” He said before he took a sip. “The only one I’d send you to in good faith at least, though, if I were you, I would do what I could to persuade him to choose, say, All Inn, or Pot’O’Grub. They’re all races places, which is mostly a function of their price, but All Inn and Pot’O’Grub don’t have everything you’re looking for. Not shady at all, in fact. the All Inn anyways, five or six years ago. And the Pot’O’Grub is probably twice the cost of the other two. You’ll have enough trouble without the trouble comes with a place like Te’klub.”

Yi Cao nodded, memorizing the names, then looked down at the booklet in his hand as Guo Gang took a sip and cursed at the steam that fogged up his glasses. Yi Cao looked around the little vault of books while the old man rubbed at the glasses again muttering to himself.

“You’ve, heard a lot of stories…” Yi Cao said, turning back to him.

“Certainly.” The old man replied.

“Is there…” Yi Cao hesitated. “That is, have you heard, have you ever heard, of any regarding, soul oaths, or people who have broken them?”

The old man put his glasses back on and adjusted them, studying Yi Cao through their lenses. “I have met a few who’ve broken them.” He said. “Dead cultivators, they were called on the Southern Continent when I was there. Couldn’t touch Ki anymore, even one who’d broken into the second realm, opened up his first few nodes. Quite, self destructive, that one. He met a bad end when he came here. Replaced most of his body, got crushed by a shifting boulder, despite his suit. Heard he got sold mostly for parts afterwards.”

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I may, have a book on the subject, if you can pay of course. Technomancers can’t form soul oaths, none of the other races can, so there’s not a lot of demand for that kind of information and no proscription for it, but I’ll still have to charge.”

He shook his head. “The booklet and advice I don’t mind giving for free. Might even pay for the privilege, mind, but literature, well, that costs me something to print, and balance is the law of the heavens, even in a dead world where the heavens rarely speak.”

“I have some silver.” Yi Cao said.

The old man shook his head. “I’ll need credits.” He replied. He held up one finger. “Let me, look for it first, before we discuss pay. I may not even have the document printed. Ah, one moment.”

The old man puttered back into his aisles and rows of books, running his finger along uniform gray spines of cloth and bending close to examine titles painted on them in a variety of scripts.

“Ah.” He said while out of sight in a corner. “Here it is.” He popped back up holding a thin volume which he examined as though for dust. He grimaced as he spotted something on it and brought it over to show a marking along the spine. “Unfortunately it is proscribed.” He said. “I suppose I should have known. Most texts on the heavens are, which just means it’s going to cost, well,” he sighed. “More than it should, in my opinion.” He raised his eyebrows and offered Yi Cao the book “I can let you look at it here if you’d like.”

Yi Cao accepted the book and looked at it. The proscribed marking on the cover was something like an eye imprinted over a squat triangular shape with some silver in the ink, while the title itself “A Treatise on Soul Oaths Dictated by the Sage of Threefold Wisdoms at the Request of Elder Bou Tian of the Leaves at Sunset Sect During the Festival Held in the Sage’s Honor” Sat stamped onto the gray binding in red ink and in the Artificer’s Language.

Yi Cao riffled the pages. Too many to read in one sitting.

Too many to read, and, complete the task he’d been given.

He reluctantly handed it back to Guo Gang. “This Yi Cao thanks the elder for the opportunity.” He said. “And for the elder’s guidance.” He set his tea down and stood so that he could offer the old man a short bow, hands clasped before him.

“Oh. Well.” The old man said. He turned away then snatched quickly at his glasses to wipe them down all over again.

“Don’t make so much of this old man’s small wisdom.” He said. “I’m just… well.”

Yi Cao gathered up the booklet he’d been given and swung his bag around at the hip to tuck it into the top.

“Are you sure you won’t look through the book?” The old man asked, turning back. “A quick look may be all it takes. As I said, I’ve met dead cultivators, and they weren’t always those bound to obedience. The heavens binds you by your cultivation you know, both your cultivation. If he burdens your progress, and knows it, he will be equally burdened, and may even have his own cultivation cut off when the oath fails instead of the other way around.” He clutched the book. “Of course, I’m no heavenly lawyer, no one is, but you may still learn something in a quick peak.”

He held out the book again.

Yi Cao shook his head. “I need to finish my task.” He looked at the old man suddenly so eager to help and felt oddly sorry for him. He touched one of his hands on the offered book. “If we are trapped here. I will return for it. For now, there just isn’t time.”

Yi Cao pushed the Welcome booklet down into his bag where it wouldn’t jog loose or be damaged by the lingering damp in his spare clothes. He paused when he touched the book still on top of his bag.

“I suppose there is that to look forward to then.” The old man said as he pulled the treatise back to his chest. “I get few enough young visitors, particularly those from the homeworld, or not too proud to share some tea and pass the time with an old man past his prime.”

Yi Cao hesitated, then glanced at the treatise in the old man’s hands.

“Do I remember you saying, that you might buy a book as well?” Yi Cao asked.

Slowly he pulled the crumpled copy of “The North” from his bag.

The old man gasped and reached for it. He nearly dropped the treatise but set it onto his desk before taking The North and lovingly stroking the battered cover of tanned leather.

“An imperial missive.” He said, touching the mark stamped on the cover. “As an original.” He swiveled to his desk to hold it under a light that flashed on when he waved the book under it, then peeled the pages open with a careful hand. “Ah! This book is terribly wounded!”

Ink ran in long lines from letters like blood from open wounds on the page. The old man ran his fingers over them as though to see if they would sting then turned to the page to examine the next row of wounds.

“It got a little wet.” Yi Cao said sheepishly. “In the ambush.”

“I see, I see.” Guo Gang said, turning a page.

A piece of jade slipped from the pages as he turned and Yi Cao snatched it suddenly before the old man had a chance to react. He looked up at the sudden movement but Yi Cao stuffed the jade “key” from Elder Xia into a pocket of his robes and grimaced to pretend that nothing happened.

The Elder turned back to the text and touched a name scripted into it. “The Black Blood Immortal.” He stroked his chin and regarded the manuscript. “This must be recent,” he said, “as recent as the last ten years perhaps.”

Guo Gang tapped on the script. “It says here that he’s manifested his spirits as far West as the Grand Carp. The last I read was a biography some, sixteen years old now? That lake was contested by the Nine Marks sect on behalf of the however many fold Forged Thunder Immortal with some conglomeration of mercenary groups.” He looked up at Yi Cao as though for confirmation.

“I… haven’t read it yet.” Yi Cao replied. “It was a gift from my cousin, before I came, to, Elleppu. I just, never really got the chance.” Busy guiding the boy through his cultivation and panicking about keeping both of them alive. He grimaced. “I hate to part with it.”

“I would pay well just for a copy of it.” The old man replied. “Such acquisitions are not uncommon. Texts filter up with the liners, though the agencies are supposed to restrict such imports by their own people. Yes. yes.”

He closed the book and looked at Yi Cao. “If you were interested in selling me the book I could offer, perhaps ten thousand credits, simply to add it to my personal collection.” He turned and stroked the leather cover of the book. “You probably can’t feel it, but there is a residue of Ki even here. Useless for cultivation, but, nostalgic, for an old man such as myself.”

Guo Gang let his hand rest on the book, then turned back to Yi Cao. “However, if you are not interested in doing so, then I would be happy to pay you for the privilege of creating a copy with the treatise on Soul Oaths which you could take with you when you leave today.” He nodded to the treatise on his desk. “It would take me no more than a moment to make the copy.” He smiled. “I can even make yourself a copy of this book so you don’t need to endanger your cousin’s gift when you want to read it.” He tapped on The North again.

Yi Cao nodded. “Of course.” He said, then bowed. “This Yi Cao would be grateful.”

The old man’s smile broadened.

Half an hour later the old man led Yi Cao to the end of the foul little tunnel his vault opened into and pointed Yi Cao in the direction he needed to go to find Te’Klub as well as to give him instructions on finding the other hostels he’d told Yi Cao about. When Yi Cao had them memorized he stepped carefully down onto the concourse that ran at ninety degrees to the Library like a hole that plunged away from them. He staggered and caught himself with one hand on the floor of the passage he’d just left then turned to find himself sideways to the old man still standing in the hallway and looking at him.

It took him a moment to digest the change in perspective.

Guo Gang smiled. “You’ll get used to it.” He told Yi Cao. “I remember when I first came to the Tangle. I was young. If you’d believe it. Everything seemed too strange to account for back then, but now?” He sighed and shrugged.

“Anything can grow normal with time. It’s the old who struggle with changes. Its why I stay here when my soul is calling me home. Even the immortals must struggle with it I imagine. Young blood ascending to their ranks. Fleets from other worlds coming through the folds of space. Building a station above them.” He shook his head. “Change just takes time, and each change takes time to get used to.” He smiled. “It sounds miserable.”

Yi Cao looked down the hallway then back to the man standing sideways on what should have been a wall. “I hope...” He began.

The old man pre-empted him by reaching out to pat Yi Cao’s hand on the shoulder strap of his bag. “Not to worry.” The old man told him. “Your secrets are safe with me, at least so long as they remain secret.” He pat Yi Cao’s hand a couple of times. “Just come back and see this old man at some point.” He said. “It is good to speak in one of the old tongues instead of tangling my tongue around the barbarism the artificers call a language.”

Yi Cao smiled, then bowed.

“This Yi Cao thanks you again for your help.” He said.

“Ah.” The old man said, pulling his glasses off to wipe at his eyes. He made a return bow of his own. “It was this old man’s honor and pleasure.” He straightened and tucked his glasses back onto his nose then waved a hand at Yi Cao in a shooing motion. “Just, live well, Yi Cao. Live well, and come back once you’ve read those books.”

“I will.”

The old man nodded and Yi Cao turned to join the stream of people moving down the station’s concourse.