Ling Qi found that unlike her previous breakthrough to Yellow Soul, this one was an intensely material experience. There were no fuzzy dreams or vague thoughts, only an awareness of every inch of her own body. It had suffered much in her time in the streets, from poor nutrition to ill-healed wounds from old beatings. She could feel the effects of all these things as her qi circulated through her flesh and bones. Layer upon layer of qi, carefully soaked into her tissues through months of physical cultivation, pulsated in time with her heartbeat. The muscles were at the limit of what they could accept, mortal flesh unable to hold a single drop more of enhancing qi.

  Ling Qi didn’t often think about it, but she knew that she was far beyond what she was three months ago. She could now dash as fast as a horse, lift her own weight or more with a single hand, and suffer blows that would crack stone and merely be wounded. She could, she thought, as she felt her awareness soaking into her every vein and tendon, probably shatter a grown man’s sternum with a simple palm strike.

  And Ling Qi had just begun to walk her Path of Cultivation.

  She could almost understand why cultivators looked down on mortals so for all their talk of protecting them. Mortals were so easily broken and withered so quickly. The spans of years Bai Meizhen had mentioned in her lessons came to her. It hadn’t sunk in properly until now, but she knew if she avoided a violent death, she would live more than a hundred years. That lifespan would only increase if she continued cultivating.

  How old was Elder Su? Two hundred? Three? The woman had a matronly air, but she was still young and beautiful. All but her eyes and demeanor were largely untouched by time. What did it even mean to live for so long? Ling Qi could hardly even wrap her mind around the idea.

  She felt something change within her. A poorly healed fracture in the bone of her upper arm shifted, sending a knife of pain through her body as it realigned, and the bone grew smooth and straight once more. Another needle of pain followed, then a thousand more, as the effects of years of malnutrition began to reverse. The qi in her body began to surge riotously, sending painful shudders through her frame.

  Ling Qi almost screamed as the barrage of sensation crowded out all conscious thought. The qi she had built up was draining away precipitously, no longer simply layered within her bones and muscles, but instead fusing and becoming part of them, forcing out mortal impurities as it did. She felt like she was baking beneath a high summer sun, drowning in her own sweat.

  When she came to herself, the first thing that struck her was the smell. It nearly made her gag; it reminded her of a middenheap in summer, and it was coming from her. She struggled to open her eyes, gummed as they were. When she managed to do so, she found herself covered from head to toe in something sticky and black like smelly tar. It was so much worse than her previous realm breakthrough.

  Gu Xiulan had warned her of something like this, she remembered. She had even prepared washing water for it. That preparation seemed woefully inadequate now. Her eyes watering from the smell, Ling Qi hurried to clean herself as best she could.

  Thankfully, the gunk covering her came away easily despite its stickiness. It was almost as if the stuff was repelled from her skin. As she cleaned herself up and the smell began to fade, she began to wonder at how light she felt and how easily she breathed, the absence of a thousand little aches and pains that had been with her so long that she didn’t even notice them save by their current absence.

  Of course, she still found herself disappointed. Her skin was clear and smooth, but it was still dark. Her limbs were not slender and graceful as Gu Xiulan and Bai Meizhen’s were but instead showed well-defined and sleek muscle. Her ankles were still too thick, and her feet too large, and if anything, she was even taller now. She didn’t often think of her appearance but some part of her had hoped that she might at least become a little prettier like the immortal ladies in stories. The lack of anyone truly unattractive among her fellow disciples had buoyed that hope.

  It wasn’t to be though. She was still the same plain and boyish girl she had been before her breakthrough. Ling Qi scowled at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her fingers through her long hair. It had grown out greatly during her breakthrough, hanging almost to the middle of her back in a wavy, curly curtain. At least the breakthrough had finished the job Gu Xiulan’s efforts had started.

  Her fingernails were a few centimeters long now too, and her toenails weren’t much better, which was more annoying. She would have to cut them along with her hair.

  Ling Qi paused, looking into her own bright blue eyes in the mirror. Did she

  to cut her hair? She had kept it short before out of practicality. She had no time on the streets to care for longer hair or put it up with pretty ribbons and ornaments like Mother had enjoyed doing to it. She idly fingered a few of the lengthened strands …… Maybe she could do something with it. Arrange it in one of the ways Mother had shown her when she was young.

  She turned away from the mirror. Something to consider later. She still had to dispose of the buckets of filthy water and at least trim her toenails so that she didn’t trip.

  Ling Qi didn’t like the attention she drew when she finally went out to dispose of the buckets and her old clothes. She had been shut in for days again. The fighting had died down, but that just meant that there were more people in the streets. More girls whispering behind their hands as she passed, even if most of them lowered their eyes when she glared at them.

  It was unsettling. She had grown used to spiteful looks and disdain. The lack of it made her nervous.

  In the wake of her breakthrough came less exciting things. Organizing her time and resources came first. The storage ring she had acquired had swiftly grown full, carrying everything. She did not forget Elder Zhou’s words. She was progressing quickly, but she still had so much ground to make up. Going through her things brought Ling Qi a surprise however. While she was sifting through the jumbled contents of her storage ring and deciding which of her meager possessions she wanted to leave at their new home, she came across the tokens from Elder Zhou’s test.

  She had forgotten about them, those three symbol inscribed discs. She found herself idly turning them over in her hands as she recalled the test.

  The light caught on a scratch in the smooth metal of the sun token as she did, and she paused. That wasn’t a single scratch.

  Squinting at it, she found that the token was covered in dozens of tiny characters, some of which she recognized from Elder Su’s lessons. Bemused, she recalled the only real practical part of formations the Elder had covered, that being the activation of dormant symbols. She fed a bit of qi into the token and watched as the character lit up faintly.

  Nothing else happened though, and after a moment, the character faded. A second attempt showed that she could light up as many as five characters at a time to seemingly no effect. She spent a bit of time trying different combinations but eventually stopped. She only recognized perhaps half of the characters. This seemed like a good use for her archive pass, she supposed.

  With that in mind, she left the residential area, shifting uncomfortably as she found people getting out of her way. It wasn’t like Bai Meizhen where the street ahead would clear entirely, but Ling Qi didn’t have to weave through the people in the streets as much. Many of her fellow disciples would simply take a step to the side or turn to give her more room.

  It was weird.

  Ling Qi pondered her different reception by her fellow disciples as she made the trip up the winding path that lead to the archive. It had to be her participation in that meeting. Nothing else really made sense. Remembering Gu Xiulan’s words, it could also be a result of her breakthrough. She supposed it would be difficult to miss her suddenly lengthened hair or even more unwieldy height.

  Halfway up the path to the archives, she heard a massive crash and and a rumble as a plume of dust rose from the path ahead. Ling Qi stopped, craning her neck to see further up the switchback, but all she was able to catch sight of were several flashes of dark green light and a sudden burst of silver.

  Was someone having a duel on the path to the archive? She had been desensitized to such things since the end of the truce, but the next rumble and the rain of stones and dirt falling from the higher path seemed a little more intense than the usual violence. Ling Qi mostly felt only curiosity as it was unlikely to have anything to do with her. She continued up the path at a slightly faster pace, hoping the duelists wouldn’t put the path out. Having to climb the cliffs to reach the archive would be annoying.

  Ling Qi was almost blinded by the brightest flash yet as she reached the same level, and when her vision cleared, it was to a disquieting sight. In the middle of the now badly pockmarked path were two figures, both male. One, Ji Rong, stood frozen in absolute stillness, one foot off the ground and his fist extended for a punch. Burning stakes of viridian light seemed to puncture straight through his limbs and torso, but she saw no blood or wounds.

  The other figure slowly straightening up was the Xuan boy she had first seen at Cai’s meeting. He was dressed much the same as then in a thick, dark green robe patterned with geometric shapes. His shell-patterned conical hat still concealed much of his face. He held a weapon now, a tall xizhang capped with a silver hoop cut in half by the continuation of the staff’s haft. A half dozen rings of varying metals jangled musically as Xuan removed the hoop from Ji Rong’s forehead.

  Ling Qi eyed the scene cautiously as the odd boy turned to look at her in an unhurried way. She could tell that he was at least somewhat winded from the way his shoulders rose and fell. Meanwhile, Ji Rong was eerily still, the glow of the stakes thrust through him casting his frozen face in sickly relief.

  “Sister Ling,” the Xuan boy greeted her. What little she could see of his expression was even as he nodded in her direction once before looking back to Ji Rong. Xuan reached into the collar of Ji Rong’s robe and plucked out what she recognized as the archive pass granted to Ji Rong.

  Ling Qi eyed Xuan warily. At this distance, she was confident she could have her mist up before Xuan could reach her if it came down to a fight.

  “Brother Xuan.” Ling Qi mirrored his polite greeting. Xuan’s choice of address was odd as few others used the formal terms. It also occurred to her how strange it was to be holding a normally pitched conversation with someone over thirty meters away. It was times like this that made her wonder at the enhancement of her senses.

  “Might I ask what happened?” Ling Qi asked cautiously. She would like to know if the other boy was in Kang Zihao’s camp or if this was something unrelated. Ji Rong had been pretty antagonistic to both Kang Zihao and Huang Da after all.

  The pass vanished from Xuan’s hand, presumably into a storage ring.

  “The untamed wolf bites all hands, knowing no loyalty nor gratitude. The cur’s insult to Lady Cai could not be brooked.” Xuan replied, turning away from the frozen boy to begin walking toward Ling Qi at an unhurried pace. “A lesson was administered.”


  Ling Qi stepped to the side of the path, ready to draw her flute or her knives at a moment’s notice. “How long is he going to be stuck like that?”


  Xuan cocked his head to the side slightly, pausing in front of her.

  “A season perhaps?” he answered, sending a chill down her spine at his casual coldness. His strange eyes flicked back in the frozen boy’s direction. “Nay. Without intervention, a full cycle of the moon more like. Does Sister Ling object?”


  His way of speaking was a little grating. “Isn’t a month a bit much? He’s helpless like that, isn’t he?” Ling Qi hated to think what would happen to her if she were to be frozen in place for a month.

  Xuan’s wide shoulders rose and fell in a dismissive shrug. “No touch can reach but mine. A lesson – not an execution.” Xuan resumed his walk, the top of the xizhang jangling as he moved past her. “Good fortune, Sister Ling. Convey my greeting to Sister Bai.”


  Ling Qi watched his back as he walked away, perturbed by the encounter, before testing Xuan’s claim. Sure enough, when she cautiously poked at Ji Rong, her finger was stopped a half meter away. It felt as if she were prodding smooth stone rather than air. Ling Qi could see faint viridian characters glowing in the dirt in a circle around Ji Rong, and a single black character meaning punishment on the frozen boy’s forehead.

  She grimaced and withdrew her hand. She supposed she would find out more at the next meeting…… if there was one. There was little she could do either way. Casting one more cautious look around to search for any hidden characters on the ground, she hurried on to the archive.

  Thus began her routine for the first part of the week. In the mornings, she would go to the archive, studying formations and attempting to decipher the symbols on the tokens. In the afternoons, she would head to the vent to cultivate and train with Li Suyin and Su Ling. They were both doing relatively well as far as she could tell although Su Ling was absent more and more often, citing a need to gather materials for some kind of arrangement she had with a crafting disciple.

  Ling Qi’s training with Han Jian would then continue in the afternoons. The boy seemed to have shaken off his gloom, and he apologized for how short he had been with her the previous week. But…… Ling Qi felt that he was still growing more distant to her. It wasn’t out of any malice, she thought, but he had an ever increasing focus on the others in his group. Han Jian spent more time drilling and encouraging Fan Yu than he had ever done before.

  She caught Gu Xiulan giving Han Jian the occasional worried look, and the other girl’s interactions with her had become…… awkward. When she had shown up at the first training session, Gu Xiulan’s expression had been greatly conflicted. Fan Yu avoided even looking at her.

  It seemed that even her successes could have negatives.

  Threads 47 Signs 2

  Sixiang encouraged.

  Ling Qi appreciated the sentiment as she leaped lightly down from the cliff, floating like a leaf on the breeze. As her feet touched the damp grass on the river’s shore, she stopped restraining her qi, and her flute materialized in her hand. The moment she did, the lazy ripples of the slow flowing river churned and thrashed. She glimpsed a piscine silhouette forming beneath the surface before a jet of extremely dense pressurized water shot out and cut straight through her chest, carving a gouge in the rock behind her. Ling Qi raised her flute to her lips as her form wavered back into solidity, unperturbed by the attack.

  The shape in the water thrashed to the surface, and she heard the spirit speak in a warbling, bubbling voice that trembled with indignant rage. “
”


  The spirit was very large. At six meters long, it was the largest fish she had ever seen. Its scales gleamed like sapphires in the morning sunlight. It had a wide flat head with thick fleshy whiskers that trembled like a rotund man’s jowls as it spoke.

  “O master of the valley,” Ling Qi spoke formally, even as she sidestepped another cutting jet of water. “Please be calm. This humble supplicant wishes only to offer apologies for the indignities laid upon you.”


  “
” the river spirit rumbled in its quivering voice. “
”


  Sixiang said drolly as Ling Qi jumped and dashed along the rising top of the wave that emerged from the river, circling to pull its attention away from her subordinates’ hiding place.

  Hanyi huffed.

  Ling Qi continued speaking, maintaining her formal and respectful tone even as she danced atop churning waters that sucked at the soles of her shoes.

  “A thousand apologies, O resplendent master,” she began, careful to keep the grin out of her voice. “Please allow this humble one to make an offering. Long have I contemplated your flowing waters and rich depths, and I have composed a song in your honor!” She was lying. She had been composing a song about a different river, but it was not so hard to switch out some details in the piece on the spot. “I beg of you to allow me to make an offering and begin making amends!”


  All the while as she spoke, she continued to avoid the spirit’s efforts, landing back on the far shore as she spoke her last words. The massive carp regarded her balefully, whiskers shaking and gills fluttering with exertion. It reminded her of a fat, red-faced merchant giving up on catching a fleet-footed thief.

  “Of course not,” she said with a smile. “Thank you so much for your understanding. I call this piece ‘Shimmering Vale.’”


  Ling Qi raised her flute to her lips and began to play, and soon, the valley was filled with music. The world seemed to grow still as her notes painted a melody that spoke of a rich and vibrant river, carrying life across the land. It was, Ling Qi thought, not one of her best pieces given the hasty alterations, but the spirit was swiftly entranced anyway. It looked like her subordinates’ reports of the creature’s pride were not inaccurate.

  Later, after the waters had receded and the spirit dispersed back to its resting state, Ling Qi was joined on the shore by her subordinates.

  “I think that went well,” Ling Qi commented lightly.

  “It did indeed. I was not aware that you were so prodigious a musician, ma’am,” Chang He replied, dipping his head respectfully. “Spirits of the land often desire devotion and respect. The purity of your expression will serve you in good stead in such dealings.”


  Mo Lian nodded, nervously tugging at his beard as he glanced at the waters. “Still, without more material offerings, it is a stopgap. We should proceed.”


  “Yes,” Ling Qi agreed, her feet lifting off the ground. “Chun Yan, take point as we fan out.”


  “Yes, ma’am,” the older woman replied immediately. Ling Qi was gratified to see that there was little doubt left in her voice.

  From there, using Liao Zhu’s advice, they fanned out, not separating far but enough to cover ground more efficiently. Ling Qi took on an overwatch role, soaring overhead as the three of them combed the paths and trails in the region. Many had been washed out by flooding, but the damage was not too bad.

  As the sun began to descend from its zenith, they came back together atop a high cliff overlooking the river to compile what they had found over the course of the morning and early afternoon.

  “It looks like we’ll have to update the maps quite a bit,” Ling Qi mused, seated in a tree branch. “Is that normal out here?”


  “It is not natural for rock spirits to move so much in a single year,” Cheng He said from his position by their small fire. “One or perhaps two passes shifting is normal enough, but we have already discovered four that have closed. The earth spirits are agitated.”


  There had been a certain majesty to watching whole cliffs and hills groan and crawl, shifting visibly before her eyes. However, Cheng He was right. It was an unusual and worrying phenomenon, one not so easily solved as a single rowdy and vengeful river spirit.

  “New paths open when old ones close. It’s annoying but not real trouble,” said Chun Yan. “The desolation in the southeastern valley is more worrying. Last time I saw withering like that, my village lost its whole harvest to the black earthworms. Something has been letting them grow beyond their normal numbers and size.”


  The valley Chun Yan spoke of was a withered place, trees bare of leaves and even the grass and weeds withered and shrunken. She had seen all-too-familiar worms poking their eyeless heads out of the earth, the actinic scent of lightning drifting from their maws. She had only glimpsed Yan Renshu’s real spirit beast once, but the worms that she had seen in the valley dwarfed it in size.

  “The tunnels I sensed were worryingly large,” Mo Lian said, tugging nervously at his beard. “But I am more concerned about the Old Watch. The ruin has been silent for as long as I can remember, but you all saw the dancing bones and heard the cries in the air.”


  “The dead should not walk,” Cheng He said darkly. “It shames those who still live.”


  The Old Watch was a fortification which had belonged to the clan that had owned this land before Ogodei. It had been the site of one of the early battles in the war. The people there had been slaughtered, and later, a second group sent to recapture the site had been ambushed and killed by barbarians as well. According to the report, the site had previously been thoroughly exorcised and was now quiescent, if still uninhabitable due to the malice infecting the air.

  Ling Qi hummed to herself. They would no doubt find more trouble in the days to come as they filled in the holes left by their general exploration today. However, none of them needed rest just yet, so it occurred to Ling Qi that before they were forced to begin splitting up to address smaller problems, perhaps they could solve one of these larger issues.

  Idly, she glanced toward the setting sun and wondered where Liao Zhu was. She supposed it didn’t matter.

  “The matter of the moving mountains is the most important one for us to investigate,” Ling Qi announced as authoritatively as she could manage. “As long as we mark down the other two as problem areas, the main group should be better suited to handle those.”


  She glanced between her subordinates while they chorused “Yes, ma’am,” but she did not notice any discontent. That was good, she thought.

  “I am more experienced with spirit beasts and moon spirits than earth spirits,” she continued. “Do you have any advice on how to approach the task?”


  There was a brief pause, but then Chang He spoke up. “The trouble with earth spirits is getting them to notice you. That goes double for wild spirits of mountain and vale.”


  “He is right,” Mo Lian agreed. “To a mountain, we are all flickering, ephemeral things. It is difficult for them to hear our words as more than the buzzing of flies.”


  Their third member gave a grunt of agreement. “I mostly hit things, but that sounds about right.”


  Ling Qi hummed in thought. She just might have the seed of an idea.

  Sixiang laughed.

  Gui agreed happily.

  “Assuming that I can get one’s attention, do you believe you can make contact?” Ling Qi asked aloud.

  The three soldiers shared a glance, marked with unease. “Yes, I believe so, ma’am,” Chang He agreed.

  Ling Qi slid off of her branch, floating lightly to the ground. “Let’s be off then.”


  ***

  It did not take too long to reach the edge of the troubled area.

  Little hills and peaks rose from the vale, and branches of the river threaded between like ribbons of silver. The afternoon sunlight gleamed beautifully off rocks and water. However, despite the appearance of serene majesty, it was clear that something was wrong. No birdsong rang in the air, and the river’s paths were distorted, water flooding through trees and plants rather than flowing through the proper channels.

  At a glance, there seemed to be no source to this, but if she watched very carefully, she could see that the mountains were moving. It was so slow as to be near imperceptible to the eye, noticeable only after minutes of watching. It would take many hours for one of the peaks to move even a meter, but when the thing involved was so large…… Ling Qi could feel the vibrations of their migration in her bones when she stood upon the ground.

  It took some time to find what they were looking for among the moving peaks, and in that time, Ling Qi explained her plan. Soon enough, they found their target, the smallest of the peaks, more of a large hill than a mountain, moving positively quickly compared to its larger kin.

  Stopping on the shore of the river that wound around its base, Ling Qi released Zhengui. Her little brother stamped his feet in happiness as he materialized, pleased that he could be of help. Ling Qi smiled and pretended not to notice the expressions on her subordinates’ faces at the appearance of Zhengui.

  “Are you ready to begin?” she asked instead, patting Gui on the head as he bumped his blunt snout against her affectionately.

  “Y-yes, ma’am,” Chang He replied, tearing his eyes away from Zhengui. He stood at her side. The others were fanned out through the area, watching in case things became troubled. “Whenever you are ready.”


  “Alright then,” Ling Qi said, slipping out of her authoritative tone as she grinned. “Zhengui, make this fellow stop for a moment.”


  “Yes!” he announced cheerfully, turning toward the hill so very slowly moving toward them. He stomped forward, and qi flooded into the earth. Grass and shrubs gleamed with emerald light as unnatural roots churned the soil, growing downward and anchoring the earth as Zhengui rammed his head into the stony hillside.

  “My Big Sister wants to talk, so you had better listen!” Zhen announced, eyeing the great pile of earth and stone imperiously. Behind him, Ling Qi silently breathed out and activated the Thousand Rings Unbreaking technique, enhancing the roots laid down and making her little brother truly immovable.

  For a time, there was no sound save for the growl of effort made by her little brother as the stone he had pressed his head against pushed harder and harder against him. Ling Qi grimaced at the expense of activating the expensive technique a second time, but she was soon rewarded as stone splintered with an audible crack and the hill shook, a noise like a subsonic groan rattling her bones. For the first time, she felt the weight of the hill’s qi shift, changing from a dissipated awareness to a focused attention on the obstacle in its path.

  She glanced at Chang He, who nodded sharply and kneeled down, digging his hands into the soil. He spoke slowly and deliberatively, clearly enunciating each syllable. “Old One, what ails you? Why do your kind move with such speed and in such numbers?” She felt the pulse of qi in his words, conveying more than spoken words. An art then. To more clearly communicate with spirits?

  It took a long moment before there was any response, but eventually with much groaning and grinding, the hill’s eyes, two great clefts in the earth, black as pitch save for the flickering of pale blue flame in their depths, opened. The whole hill rumbled, a long string of noise and jumbled expression that Ling Qi was nonetheless able to decipher, thanks to her skill at music.

  Chang He relayed the words even as she mulled them over in her thoughts. “The fallen star stirs. Destruction burns below,” the old man said slowly, sounding troubled.

  “It is afraid,” Ling Qi confirmed what she could sense Chang He thinking. Wasn’t that a worrying thought? “Ask it where the ‘star’ is.”


  Chang He repeated his question, but the reply was only marginally helpful. “
” Chang He grimaced as the rumbling ceased.

  Further questioning proved mostly useless, and they received only fragmented answers and vague references. There was “poison rising from the deepest depths” and “the winter winds would awaken the crumbling titan.” All very ominous, but none of it very clear or helpful. The longer they forced the hill to remain still, the more agitated it was becoming too.

  Eventually, they withdrew, and as they others rejoined them, she asked the first question that came to mind. “Did any of that make sense to you? I’ve never heard of a real falling star.” While the term was used fairly often as a poetic descriptor for different celestial phenomena, actual stars didn’t move. They were just hidden while the sun moved overhead.

  Sixiang said, sounding frustrated.

  Chang He and Mo Lian remained silent, the younger of the two tugging nervously at his beard. However, it was Chun Yan who spoke up, a frown on her hard features. “I remember my gran telling a story ‘bout the gods sending down a star to punish a wicked dragon king. Just an old folk tale though.”


  They all fell silent for a moment. “It is probably just a flowery metaphor for something,” Ling Qi said. Even reading the expression directly, a falling star was just a burning radiance descending from the sky. It almost reminded her of the Duchess, but the Cai’s light techniques lacked the rippling veils of color expressed by the hills “words.” “Perhaps a powerful spirit beast died in the south, and its blood is poisoning the earth.”


  “Seems more likely,” Chun Yan agreed.

  “Yes, that seems more likely. Should we search for the source then, ma’am?” Mo Lian asked.

  “That would probably be for the best,” she agreed. “You’ll lead us then. Focus on the ground, and look for unusual traces. The rest of us will keep watch while you search.”


  The clear order seemed to snap them out of their thoughts, and once again Ling Qi was treated to three simultaneous “Yes, ma’am.”


  Sixiang murmured in her thoughts as they set off.

  Hanyi said, speaking up for the first time in awhile.

  Zhen hissed teasingly.

  Ling Qi sighed as the noise in her head returned to normal levels. She was probably overthinking things.