The day of Elder Zhou’s test had come.

  Sunrise saw Ling Qi at the field where pockets of mist clung sullenly to the ground, mirroring the groups of disciples that awaited the start of the test. There were nearly a hundred people here, many of whom she had never seen before. They must have been taking lessons on the days she was attending spiritual class.

  To avoid exacerbating her nerves, Ling Qi ignored them and moved to join Han Jian and the others. Han Jian greeted her with a confident smile and Han Fang a nod, doing much to dispel her fretting. Fan Yu still glanced at her with disdain, but Gu Xiulan at least seemed to grudgingly accept her presence, moving over to give her room to join their little circle.

  When Elder Zhou appeared, he gestured for the test takers to follow him further up the mountain. They walked a steep cliffside path, eventually reaching a paved plaza overlooked by a stone pagoda. In the center of the plaza was a ring of black tiles surrounded by a complex arrangement of narrow stone pillars. Every tile and pillar carried a single unreadable character carved into its surface that glowed with a ghostly blue light.

  “Once you pass through the ring, the test will begin. Each squad will be transported to one of the Sect’s training sites. There, you will find tasks laid out for you. You will pass the first test when you have fulfilled all the tasks given.” Elder Zhou barked as he looked out over the crowd sternly, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “I will not lie. There is some danger of death should you overreach yourselves. If you fear that, do not enter! Once you begin the test, you will not be able to return to this plaza until the test is complete or you fail.”


  Although a few squads were called before them, Han Jian’s group was among the first to be transported to the test site. While Ling Qi didn’t manage to stride in as confidently as the others in her group, she liked to think her hesitation wasn’t obvious. The groups that entered before them had vanished between one blink of the eye and the next, stolen away by the magic of the circle. As she stepped past the innermost circle of pillars, vertigo and blackness hit her. Ling Qi stumbled as the ground seemed to tilt beneath her, only to catch herself on something hard.

  She blinked and then flushed, pushing herself upright and off of Han Fang’s chest.

  “Sorry. I just……” Ling Qi lost track of her words as she peered around. The group was at the base of a steep stone path leading up a mountain of black stone. More alarmingly, just a half dozen feet behind them, the path crumbled away, revealing that the mountain was suspended in air over a yawning void of mist with no apparent bottom.

  She was shaken out of her stupor by the mute boy clapping a hand on her shoulder. He offered her a crooked smile as she looked back up to his face and then nodded to Han Jian and the others, who were looking unsettled as well.

  Han Jian cleared his throat. “Right. Well, ignoring the bottomless pit…… It looks like I have the instructions for the first part of the test.” He waved a sheet of paper.

  “There’s a small fort at the top of this…… island. We’re to occupy and hold it for the next two hours. There are two other groups on the island with us, and only one group is allowed to hold the fort at a time. We can also win if we’re the last ones standing but only if we’re within the fort. “Thoughts?”


  “That’s simple enough. Just eliminate the other groups before they reach it then proceed to the fort,” Gu Xiulan said cheerfully. “There will be no trouble holding it then.”


  Han Jian hummed thoughtfully. “We could do that, but defending the fort might be easier if we can get there first.”


  “I would rather not hole up and let others dictate the pace,” Fan Yu grumbled. Fang gestured to indicate that he agreed with Han Jian.

  Ling Qi glanced around nervously before tentatively offering her opinion. “I think…… We should listen to Han Jian. He’s supposed to be the leader, right? And I don’t know if we, um, have any good ways of searching for the other groups……” Ling Qi relaxed somewhat when her words didn’t spark hostility.

  “I doubt the other disciples will be hard to find. But -” Gu Xiulan huffed, crossing her arms under her chest, and glanced at her frowning fiancee. “Could you feel them through the ground, Yu?”


  “.…… Not at any real distance. I have not yet mastered that part of the Yellow Mountain arts.” Fan Yu shot Ling Qi an irritated look, missing the flicker of contempt in his fiancee’s eyes at the response. Ling Qi just glared back. That was not

  fault.

  “Which is why I figured defense was our best bet,” Han Jian cut in firmly. “We don’t have anyone with extended senses yet.”


  “Then why ask at all?” Ling Qi asked curiously as the group began to climb the steep stone path, keeping a wary eye on the cliffs above.

  “A leader needs to hear his subordinates even if he thinks he knows best,” Han Jian responded as if by rote. “Otherwise he might miss something. We should quiet down and get marching. We’ll be moving double time so that I can survey the area around the target and set things up in our favor.”


  Han Jian’s words seemed to ease Fan Yu’s tension and drew an admiring sigh from Gu Xiulan. Han Fang simply shook his head and made a sound like a rasping cough that Ling Qi was fairly certain meant laughter from the mute boy.

  As they picked up the pace, Ling Qi worked to slot into the formation they had practiced. The pace Han Jian set was a punishing one, enough to leave her red-faced and out of breath by the time they finally reached the first plateau a quarter of an hour later. She was glad that she had gained so much endurance in the past month. Some part of her still felt wonder that she was only winded after practically sprinting for nearly a quarter of an hour. Thanks to the qi that had seeped into, and empowered her body, the march was merely tiring and not exhausting.

  Their advantages as one of the first groups seemed to be holding as they pushed on, slowed only slightly by the lightly forested terrain. Despite the obstruction, a banner bearing the sable dragon and violet phoenix of the Empire was visible far ahead, flapping from the top of a watchtower of the fort they were aiming to reach. The banner made navigation an easy task but also increased the urgency of their march since the other groups would easily see it as well.

  Han Jian gave them a minute or two to catch their breath before signalling everyone to spread out slightly and continue. Ling Qi was a moment behind the others in following the silent order, and it made her wish that she had been able to take more time to sync herself with the group. Despite the fact that she was keeping up, it still felt like those few awkward times that she had fallen in with other street urchins. Like she didn’t really belong here.

  Ling Qi ruthlessly shut down that niggling self doubt and focused her attention on the scraggly trees and underbrush around them, straining her ears for any sound that was out of place. The woods were eerily silent, lacking even the faint buzz of insects. The only sound came from the wind blowing through the branches and the rumbling of thunder from the dark and bloated clouds roiling overhead.

  The fast pace Han Jian and the others set was all the more difficult here on the uneven ground. It was far more tense as well. At least on the path, the number of directions she had to watch was limited, more like watching a street; here, an enemy could come from any direction.

  The others didn’t seem happy with the terrain either. She noticed Gu Xiulan grimacing as her gown was caught now and again on passing branches, and Han Jian nearly stumbled once or twice on a well-hidden tree root. Was this kind of terrain not common in the eastern provinces?

  In the end, they burst from the treeline less than ten minutes later. The fort lay ahead, set at the top of what looked to have once been a shallow hill. On three sides, stone and dirt had been sheared away, leaving unnaturally smooth cliffs some five meters high that seemed to flow into the utilitarian gray masonry of the fort’s walls.

  The final side was a shallow slope with a rough stairway carved into its center, leading upward to the fort’s only entrance: a gateway wide enough for three men to pass through side by side. The gate itself currently stood open, revealing that the walls were only perhaps a meter thick. This really was a small fort; even Tonghou’s outermost walls were thicker than .

  The two forward corners held rounded fortifications raised on stubby towers rising half again the height of the walls above the rest. They were covered by wooden canopies, with the center of each dominated by an odd wooden device. It looked a bit like a crossbow the size of a horse cart. Ling Qi recognized it as a net thrower. She had seen Tonghou’s city guard take down flying spirit beasts with it once or twice. A third tower with another net thrower overlooked the fort’s rear.

  As they came to a halt at the bottom of the steps, Ling Qi did her best to catch her breath without being obvious about it. The others were winded as well but none to the same extent as her. Ling Qi’s disciple’s gown clung uncomfortably to her skin and was darkened by sweat in places. She felt even more out of place than usual next to Gu Xiulan, who, at worst, had a few brambles caught on the hem of her gown.

  “Weapons out. Stay spread out but within range of our support techniques,” Han Jian said quietly as Han Fang mounted the first of the steps followed by Fan Yu. “We don’t know if someone else made it first and is trying to lure us in so stay alert until we’ve scoped it out.”


  Ling Qi flicked one of her sharpened knives into her right hand, pausing to scan the treeline behind them as she did. She didn’t want to be snuck up on either.

  They reached the gate without incident, and after a brief scan of the courtyard, Han Jian waved his cousin forward. The larger boy stepped cautiously between the gates, hammer held at the ready. When nothing happened even after Han Fang took several steps inside, Han Jian gestured for Fan Yu and Gu Xiulan to watch the approach to the fort as he and Ling Qi stepped inside.

  The courtyard was a field of packed dirt with a set of steps on each wall leading up to the battlements. In the center stood a stone square of a building with a single door and only a handful of narrow arrow slits for windows. It looked far too small to hold more than a handful of people at a time.

  “If I remember correctly, the fortifications in this region usually have their barracks and support buildings underground because Imperial Earth arts are superior to those of the barbarians and flat space is at a premium in the mountains,” Han Jian said from beside her. “But I doubt that shutting ourselves in a hole for a couple hours will satisfy the instructor.”


  “Probably not,” Ling Qi responded distractedly as they moved further inside. It might fulfill the letter of the order, but it wasn’t in keeping with the spirit, which might be part of the test. “We could probably retreat to it if we need to,” she added in an unsure tone. “Falling back if you’re overwhelmed is good sense, right?”


  Han Jian chuckled. “Depends who you ask. There’s more than one person who would say that any retreat from barbarians is shameful and a dereliction of duty besides.”


  “Well, of course,” Gu Xiulan’s voice came from behind her along with the creaking sound of the gates closing.

  Ling Qi glanced back to see Fan Yu turning the mechanism to close the heavy gates.

  “Retreating in the face of barbarian trash means allowing them in to ravage the poor defenseless little mortals, shame in one’s cowardice aside,” the annoyingly pretty girl said in a chipper voice.

  “Sometimes, needs must, but it certainly should not be the first option in mind,” Gu Xiulan added with an irritating smile that made Ling Qi bristle at the implied insult.

  Han Jian raised a hand to cut off Ling Qi’s retort and glanced at Han Fang, who was standing beside the door leading into the central building.

  “Fang, check inside.”


  Ling Qi blinked. That gave her an idea. Maybe they could hide in the barracks and attack whoever came next? Or even wait until the other groups were fighting and attack the winner? She probably would have done that if she were on her own.

  “We need to hurry. I doubt we have more than a quarter hour at most before someone reaches us. Less if they’re being impatient,” Han Jian continued, moving purposefully toward his cousin.

  “Then we need to find our positions quickly,” Fan Yu grunted as he strode up. “What do you intend, Jian?”


  “I think……” Han Jian mused, glancing at the gates. “I think Fang and I should move to the battlements over the gates. His art will be fine for harassing approaching enemies, and even if I’m not great at archery, I can handle a bow.”


  “You don’t have one though?” Ling Qi pointed out slowly.

  Han Jian glanced at her in confusion and then seemed to understand. “Oh, right. I have it on me; it’s just in storage. Father gave me a small dimensional ring before I left home.”


  Ling Qi had no idea what that was, but she didn’t feel like exposing her ignorance further to her companions.

  “Yu, I want you down there to hold the gate. It’s going to be broken so we need someone resilient down there to hold any enemies off,” Han Jian continued

  “And what of us?” Gu Xiulan asked, idly shifting her weight from foot to foot. Han Fang had re-emerged from the central building at this point and nodded to Han Jian, signalling all clear.

  “You…… should be on one of the watchtowers. Your arts have the best range, and I need someone to keep an eye on the other approaches. I need you to use some tokens to set up alarm formations on the other walls too. I don’t think many disciples could make it over the rear walls, but I could be wrong. I don’t know the arts of every disciple we’re competing against.”


  “Ling Qi,” Han Jian looked over at her with a frown. “I’d say that you should go with Xiulan. Leaving someone alone is usually not the best strategy.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Defending a fort with so few people…… We’re almost certain to have to retreat to the courtyard if the others are reasonably well-organized,” he muttered in annoyance.

  Ling Qi considered, glancing at the still-smiling Gu Xiulan. She didn’t really like the other girl and wasn’t certain she trusted her. Would the other girl really have her back if they were alone?

  The whole plan seemed excessively dangerous to her because of how spread out and isolated each person would be. Ling Qi could not help but think that it would be better to hide and ambush the enemy disciples rather than face them head on.

  Would it be possible to convince her teammates to listen to her?

  Threads 12

  The weeks that followed blurred by. She began to take more difficult sect jobs, pushing the limits of her sneaking abilities with harder and harder targets. She mastered the seventh step of the Sable Crescent Step under Zeqing’s eyes.

  Despite the sluggishness of her qi, she continued to push herself every day, building her foundations through sheer bloody-minded effort until at last she broke through despite the difficulty. It was exhausting, and Ling Qi knew that she could not rely on just powering through going forward. Reaching the appraisal stage of the green realm was merely solidifying one’s foundations, preparing for the true work ahead and smoothing out the instability of breakthrough.

  She needed to resolve her conflict one way or the other.

  When she returned to the source of her troubles, she found the grove eerie and quiet. Under the light of the full moon, she found herself mastering the first steps of the Curious Diviner’s Eye art as easily as she breathed. She didn’t need the Bloody Moon; there were other phases.

  In between the lines of her new art, she heard a whisper of history. She learned of a man who loved knowledge and exulted in its spread, a man who could parse a hundred thousand futures and choose the one he wished. A whisper of Tsu the Diviner, first king of the Emerald Sea, haunted the art. It was a faded thing, an echo bouncing back for the thousandth time, but it still made her wonder. How had that man’s descendents become that which she saw in the memory?

  Once, she would have said it did not matter. Now, however, she wondered if she could really understand the present without first understanding the past. She couldn’t afford to just stride forward without a care, relying solely on luck and instinct to keep her safe.

  If she wanted to avoid outcomes like those of the dream, she first needed to understand why they came about. It was with thoughts such as these that she returned to the mountain to meet with her liege.

  “My report, Lady Cai,” Ling Qi said, keeping her head bowed as she placed the trio of scrolls on her liege’s desk.

  “Very good,” Cai Renxiang said, pausing in scanning the other document on her desk to give Ling Qi a nod. “Take a seat. We will discuss these matters shortly.”


  Ling Qi did so, sinking into the comfortable chair which sat across from Cai Renxiang’s desk. It was, in a very real way, her chair, she knew. Ling Qi appreciated the gesture given the rather less comfortable seats swapped in for other guests.

  “How is your family faring?” Cai Renxiang asked absently, not yet looking up from her work.

  “Mother and Biyu are well. The, ah, guests will be arriving soon, I think.” Ling Qi squirmed in her seat at that. She still remembered her liege’s blank expression when she had first made that request.

  “Say it plainly, Ling Qi,” the other girl chided. “Do not show weakness. They are your new household. If even their clan head is ashamed of them, then it will lend credence to your enemies’ words.”


  “You’re right. It is unfair of me,” Ling Qi agreed with a grimace. “I am still surprised you went along with this request so easily.”


  “Should I ascend to Mother’s seat, I will do far more to upset those in power,” Cai Renxiang replied. “Such a minor scandal should serve well enough for training purposes.”


  Ling Qi shook her head. That was just such a Renxiang-like thought that it made her want to laugh. “Hmph. You’re really not bothered by their old profession at all, are you?”


  Cai Renxiang glanced up at her, one eyebrow raised. “It is an unpleasant function, but there are many such. Shall I spit upon the men who dredge the sewers or those who collect dung to fertilize the fields?” The dark haired girl drummed her fingers briefly on her desk. “.…… Though perhaps like those men, their duties might be unnecessary in the future. A thought for another time.”


  And there she went. Ling Qi didn’t really feel the need to prod her liege’s thought along further, lest she get Cai Renxiang talking about reforms that she could barely follow. Finally, her liege’s inkbrush returned to its holder, and the last page of work was placed neatly on the completed pile.

  “Summarize your findings,” the girl said crisply, moving the trio of scrolls to the center of her desk.

  “Disciples from our year’s tournament are largely underranked, I believe,” Ling Qi answered. “In many cases, not by much, but they are. I do not believe you should concern yourself with anyone below the rank of 850.”


  “And if they are attempting to deceive others on their ability?” Cai Renxiang asked, opening the first scroll.

  Ling Qi pursed her lips. “I do not think anyone would do so for such a low rank. If they are common born, the loss of resources would not be worth it, and if not, then their low rank would likely shame their families if kept for too long.”


  “That was my conclusion as well,” Cai Renxiang agreed. “I am glad to see you are thinking of such things.”


  “Thank you,” Ling Qi replied, briefly dipping her head. Li Suyin had actually been the one to point that out to her. “I made notes about a few people who could potentially challenge you in the upper ranks, but I could not obtain much information from those above 800.”


  “A task for next month when you have access to visit either Bai Meizhen or myself,” her liege noted, absently scanning the scroll. “Yes, this will be useful.”


  There had been a flurry of challenges in the last week or two. She knew Meizhen had moved up to rank 792.

  “As for my own advancement, I reviewed a few choices, but I believe disciple 812 is my target.”


  “Reasons?” Cai Renxiang questioned.

  “Skill set compatibility,” Ling Qi explained. “She is a musician and a fighter without much in the way of secondary skills. I believe I overmatch her in both of those areas.”


  Ling Qi sent a probing thought toward Sixiang, who sent back a feeling of distracted acknowledgement. Whatever they were doing, Ling Qi was confident Sixiang would have her back in a duel; their ability to wash away enemy arts would be invaluable.

  “If you are confident, then that is enough. Have you made the challenge yet?” Cai Renxiang asked.

  “Not yet. I wanted to inform you first. I will find her tomorrow.”


  “I’ll bet six of my contribution points. That should be enough to show that I’m serious, right?” Ling Qi mused.

  “It should be sufficient,” Cai Renxiang agreed. “Did you have any further concerns as to your challenge?”


  “No,” Ling Qi replied.

  “Very well,” the other girl said crisply. She flicked her wrist, and a folded envelope appeared in her hand. “Take this before you leave then. The auction for your item was completed. There is a formation seal on the receipt holding your stones.”


  Ling Qi blinked as she took the envelope, only for her eyes to widen at the sum shown on the paper within. “This much?” she asked faintly.

  “I do have a connection or two, even under Mother’s restrictions,” Cai Renxiang pointed out dryly. “Spend wisely. Wealth is no excuse for waste.”


  Ling Qi nodded, hurriedly tucking the envelope into her sleeve. “Thank you very much, Lady Cai.”


  “You may leave then. I should like to have our spar one hour earlier tomorrow. A meeting has come up in the normal time,” the other girl said, turning her eyes back to the scrolls.

  Ling Qi nodded again, only to pause as she moved to stand. She hadn’t spoken to Cai Renxiang about the Bloody Moon dream yet. Unsurprisingly, her moment of hesitation was caught by the other girl, who glanced up.

  “Speak, if you are troubled.”


  “.…… If my gown, uh, ate part of a spirit, is that normal?” Ling Qi asked.

  Cai Renxiang put the scroll in her hands down with a thump as she scrutinized Ling Qi. “If the spirit were attempting to tamper with its weaving, then yes,” she answered bluntly. “What manner of arrogant creature did you encounter, that it would ignore the warnings woven into the fabric?”


  Ling Qi thought of the King and his disregard, as well as what had come after. “One I won’t miss,” she grunted. “I just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.”


  Cai Renxiang shook her head. “Your luck is strange. In any case, although your gown is apprentice work, the thread of Liming has given it the same protection Mother gives to her personal works. It is unwise to tamper with them.”


  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Ling Qi said, brushing her hands over the silk of her gown. “Let me take my leave then, my Lady,” she said with one more bow before leaving.

  ***

  The next day, Ling Qi found herself traveling up one of the many winding paths that connected the cliffside dwellings of the Inner Sect disciples to pay a visit to the disciple ranked 812. She had already delivered the notice of challenge to the Sect offices for processing, but it was considered polite to go and speak to the person you were challenging. Not doing so was a deliberate snub.

  As she made her way up the steep winding path toward Yu Nuan’s abode, she caught the sound of music floating down from above. Though the notes were deep in tone, Ling Qi recognized the sort of aimless playing that was not any particular piece, but a simple expression of feeling. She lowered her head as the notes thrummed in her bones. There was anger, passion and spite aplenty woven into the sound, but the base of it was something more like determination, or perhaps, defiance. Unfocused as it was, it presented no theme or image in her thoughts, but she could recognize the skill behind it. Ling Qi judged herself to be the better musician, but the gap was not large.

  As she thought that, Ling Qi crested the top of the path and caught her first sight of the other girl. Yu Nuan stood with her back to the path, looking out over the cliff’s edge. She was tall and dusky skinned like Ling Qi herself, although not quite as much in either degree. She wore boyish clothes: loose, baggy pants of heavy black cloth tucked into sturdy boots, and a similarly loose shirt of dark purple silk that billowed on her lanky frame. Her hair drew Ling Qi’s eye. It was cut short, barely reaching her ears, and retained the natural curling that Ling Qi had tamed out of her own locks early last year.

  “What’s up then?” Ling Qi was shaken out of her thoughts by Yu Nuan’s gruff voice. She met the girl’s green eyes as Yu Nuan looked back over her shoulder. Ling Qi paused to stare at the jade studs piercing the girl’s lower lip and right eyebrow.

  Ling Qi offered a perfunctory bow, which prompted the other girl to turn around and somewhat irritably return it. Ling Qi spotted a flash and a whiff of smoke as the lute Yu Nuan had cradled in her arms vanished. A polite pleasantry was on the tip of her tongue, but as she met the girl’s eyes again as they straightened up, she elected to match Yu Nuan’s bluntness. “I am Ling Qi. I wanted to let you know that I am challenging you for your rank.”


  “Yu Nuan,” the other girl greeted curtly, narrowing her eyes. “ What’s your ante?”


  “Six Contribution Points,” Ling Qi answered, folding her arms below her chest. “I hope that the Senior Sect Sister will accept.”


  “Quit that.” The girl shot her an irritated look. “I saw that tournament. Don’t Senior Sect Sister me.”


  Ling Qi huffed but relaxed her posture. “Yu Nuan, will you accept my challenge?”


  “Obviously,” the girl replied, warm wind stirring around her. Ling Qi heard, or rather felt, the faint stirring of notes, discordant and heavy. She was sure that the girl across from her could hear the faint sound of Ling Qi’s own soul as well. “You’d probably beat me in a fight, but that’s not the kind of challenge you’re expecting, is it?”


  “No,” Ling Qi agreed. “I haven’t compared myself to a peer in music since I started cultivating.”


  The other girl let out an inelegant snort and shook her head. “I’m glad I’m not a year younger. Still, there’s one thing I gotta ask.”


  “I may not mind answering,” Ling Qi replied noncommittally.

  “Why’d you sign up with the Cai?” Yu Nuan asked bluntly. “Just hitching your ride to the best horse?”


  Ling Qi felt a twinge of irritation at the question. “Would there be anything wrong with that?” she asked. “Cai Renxiang is a good liege to serve. I agree with her intentions.” She wasn’t sure how well Cai Renxiang’s ideals would turn out in practice, but she wasn’t satisfied with the world that is, and she’d gotten a look at the world that was. She couldn’t imagine Cai Renxiang ordering a massacre like the King had……

  She couldn’t say the same about Duchess Cai though. Not yet, at least.

  The other girl pursed her lips, giving Ling Qi a scrutinizing look. “Thanks for being honest.” Yu Nuan let out a short laugh.

  “My turn,” Ling Qi said, giving the girl a mild glare. A cool breeze blew, and the sound of a distant flute was audible, even to Ling Qi’s ears. “What’s your problem with the Cai? You another one like Chu Song?”


  “Nah. The Big Cai crushed that lot on purpose,” her opponent answered, squaring her own shoulders as a ripple of heat rose from her skin, warding off the chill. “Me and mine were just incidental. You can rage against the machine, but if it bothers to notice, you’ll just get crushed.”


  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ling Qi asked, studying the other girl. Her words didn’t match the feelings she had gotten from the girl’s aimless playing.

  “I think I answered in as much detail as you did, Junior Sis,” Yu Nuan replied sardonically.

  “That’s fair,” Ling Qi admitted.

  “S’fine. One way or another, we’ll understand each other by the end. That’s what the music is about, isn’t it?” Yu Nuan replied with a dismissive wave and turned back to face the cliff.

  Ling Qi stared at her back. She could take it as rude if she liked, but she wasn’t sure she did. “I’ll look forward to it,” she said, letting her feet lift off from the grass. As always, she still had a lot of cultivation to do.

  Later that day, she found a neatly printed page slipped under her door when she emerged from the meditation room to quench her thirst. The challenge had been decided. It would be a contest of composition. They would each compose a new piece over the next three days and then present it to the elder overseeing the challenge. After presenting in turn, they would then vie directly against each other to see whose message was the stronger.

  Ling Qi set the notice aside. Three days to prepare. She could do that.