Across the Plains of Lost Tribes, in the foothills of the towering Sword Mountains at the headwaters of the Silver River sprawled a mighty city. From a kilometer above the city, a stream of crystal clear water tumbled over a precipice and fell to the pool below like the stroke of a sword connecting the heavens and the earth. Atop the waterfall, shrouded by mist and clouds, sharp-eyed mortals could occasionally glimpse the resplendent palaces and pavilions of the Paragon Sword Sect, the mightiest sword sect of the Severed Spirit Mortal Realm.
The city at the base of the waterfall had grown from a small village outside the sect to a sprawling metropolis, home to tens of thousands of cultivators and nearly a million mortals. People came from all over the world for a chance to become a disciple of the Paragon Sword Sect but as the greatest of sword sects, they turned away hundreds of potential disciples for every person they accepted. The remainder settled in Silver Sword City, some joining smaller sword sects, some seeking out other paths of cultivation, and some finding that they had spent everything they had on a chance that had failed. Such people were left with no option but to find a way to make a living in the place they’d arrived.
Wu Ling’s mother had been one such person. Drawn by the promise of the greatest sword sect in the world, she’d crossed dark forests and the dangerous plains to arrive in Silver Sword City only to be told that Sword Dancers weren’t ‘acceptable’ disciples of the Paragon Sword Sect. Undaunted, she’d visited many smaller sects in the hopes of finding a place to hone her sword skills. If one sect rejected her, she’d approach two. If two rejected her she would approach four. But when every sword sect turned her away she’d been left to face cold reality. In Silver Sword City, Sword Dancers were seen only as entertainers, fit to be courtesans but never to be trained as warriors.
Twenty years later the simple Sword Dancer had come to be many different things. Courtesan of the Bamboo Silk House, wife of a Shining Blade Hall outer sect disciple, mother to a darling boy, and half a dozen other things that would fill most any woman’s heart with joy if the list had just stopped there. Sadly, she’d become other things too. Widow, when her husband died in a foolish duel. Outcast when she’d tried to return to life as a courtesan with a young boy in her arms. Cripple when petty jealousy between courtesans had seen her poisoned in the dark.
Still, looking at the charming face of her cherished son, Wu Ningli wouldn’t change a thing about the life that had brought her here. “Ling’er,” she said softly from the bed in her room. “You’re sure that the Awakening Incense this alchemist is offering is genuine? Awakening Incense that works at your age isn’t inexpensive you know, are you sure that it’s real?”
“Hush mother,” the charming young man said with a bright smile on his full lips. Anyone who glanced at Wu Ling would know they had seen a beauty in an instant but it would take several moments more to discern whether they’d glimpsed a handsome young hero or a stunning young fairy. His long dark hair fell in soft waves past delicate features before spilling over slender shoulders. “The incense this alchemist sells isn’t actually inexpensive but your talented son has managed to put together enough work on the side to rub a few spirit crystals together. Enough to make an attempt this year, and seventeen isn’t too old anyway,” he added in reassuring musical tones.
“I know you work hard Ling’er,” she said, her face burning in shame. There were some questions a mother simply couldn’t bring herself to ask and for the past two years, she’d made it a point to never ask what it was her son did to bring home the taels of silver and gold that paid for their small courtyard in the outer city or the spirit crystals he managed to gather for the medicines that sustained her cultivation in spite of her crippling injuries. While he tried hard to be careful around her, she’d seen him come home with dark liner around his eyes, rouge on his lips, and one of her old dresses hanging out of the bag slung across his shoulder. There weren’t many ways for a young boy to earn the amount of money he brought home but there had always been a few attractive young boys like her son who entertained men with deviant tastes in the places that she’d worked as a courtesan. It wasn’t a life she’d have wished for her son but a man should be allowed to keep his pride. Unless he mentioned it, she had long promised to turn a blind eye to his more questionable activities. After all, he did all this for her. How could she possibly judge?
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“Mom?” Wu Ling asked as her gaze became increasingly complex. “It’s really fine. It isn’t like I don’t get anything out of it myself. As long as everyone’s happy and the money’s good, it can’t really be called ‘work’ can it?” Wu Ling said, not realizing that he only made the misunderstanding worse. “I have to go though, class starts soon and I need to get ready.”
“Be careful,” Wu Ningli called as Wu Ling left her room. “Some sword training halls are extra hard on students they know are about to attempt an awakening. Don’t let them tell you it’s for your own good and if they bully you then tell your teacher!”
“Yes mother,” Wu Ling called from down the hall as he slipped into his room and began to change into soft silken robes in a more feminine cut. “You don’t have to worry Mom,” he whispered as he changed. He wanted so badly to explain to her that he had nothing to fear from his fellow students because the women he practiced zither with were as gentle as doves! Stepping in front of a small bronze mirror, he quickly rearranged his long hair around a delicate jade comb so it fell in a graceful tail that wouldn’t interfere with his playing. A few minutes of work with paints and powders later and no one would mistake Wu Ling for anything other than a delicate young fairy and aspiring Artist.
A short walk later, he approached the front gates of the Pure Virtue Musician’s Hall, a preparatory school for young women who aspired to become Artists if they were able to Awaken as cultivators during their adolescence. There were, of course, places that were appropriate for young men to study the zither but those schools catered to well-to-do young masters and lords with the wealth to spend on a secondary cultivation path of the arts. The difference in fees was like the difference between buying spoiled rice and fine wine! Two years ago, Wu Ling had been terrified that he’d be caught attending a finishing school that only enrolled women but now…
“Sister Wu Ling, Sister Wu Ling!,” a young woman in elegant yellow robes called, all but bouncing up and down as she waved to Wu Ling. “Guess what good news I have!”
“Hmmm,” Wu Ling said softly as he approached the smiling young woman who looked up at him with glittering sapphire eyes. “For Sister Su Yao to be so happy, I’m sure it can only mean one thing,” he demurred without giving a real answer.
“Oh, so you already knew!” the young woman pouted before breaking back into a smile. “It’s all thanks to the portrait you painted for me! According to the messenger, Young Lord Fang Lin hung the portrait in his room and gazes at it frequently. My mother has agreed to an Introduction Banquet next month! By the time spring ends, I might be engaged,” she said with a dazzling smile. “And it’s all thanks to you!”
“I’m sure any capable artist could have done just as well,” Wu Ling said modestly, playing a familiar game of passing praise back and forth. “After all, Sister Su Yao is so beautiful, even an amateur artist couldn’t possibly fail to capture your radiance.”
“No, no other painter can do what you do and you know it,” the young woman said, rejecting his humility without rejecting his compliments. “You helped me pose in a way that other painters never did and the painting showed my best features in ways that didn’t even show up in the poses other painters put me in. You really did make all the difference, so here,” she said, opening her belt pouch and producing a small bag of spirit crystals. “This is what I promised you if the portrait got me a meeting but I also have something else for you,” she added with a sly smile.
“Oh? I wonder what else Sister Su Yao has in mind for me today?” Wu Ling said, trying not to dance in joy now that he had the spirit crystals to pay the alchemist! He still needed to get through a two-hour class in zither before he could change out of his current outfit and visit the old man’s shop at the river’s edge. Until then, he had to appear like the perfect refined lady he’d practiced so hard to appear as.
“When I told my cousin about how your painting helped me get an Introduction Banquet, she said she might want you to paint a portrait for her as well,” she said, grabbing hold of Wu Ling’s hand and pulling him into a side street where an elegant young woman in familiar robes stood waiting. “Sister Wu Ling, this is my cousin, Su Xiang, she’s an outer disciple of the Shining Blade Hall.”
Instantly, Wu Ling froze, hands paused halfway to cupping in salute. In the ten years since his father had died, he’d had little contact with members of the Shining Blade Hall but now it wasn’t just the robes of an outer disciple he recognized on the woman before him. From the inky black hair she’d pulled into a tight braid to the fierce glint of her sapphire eyes and the sharp angle of her sword-like brows there wasn’t a single feature of this young sword cultivator’s face that didn’t remind him of the young girl she’d been ten years ago.
“Wu Ling is it?” Su Xiang said, recognition flickering in her eyes. “Perhaps it’s fate we meet. You remind me of a childhood friend surnamed ‘Yun’ who also bore the name Ling. I wonder if you write your name the same way they did?” she asked.