That night, Ling Qi continued to cultivate Eight Phase Ceremony, attempting to decipher the missing section. It remained beyond her, but she could feel the strands of starlight beginning to accumulate faster in her dantian, forming glittering veins through her more terrestrial qi.

  All too soon, morning came, and with it, the time for the meeting dawned. She still had things she wanted to do this week, but hunting the condor for the sect mission she had picked up and going out with Gu Xiulan to challenge older disciples would have to wait until after the council meeting.

  Ling Qi left the house with Bai Meizhen and ended up linking up with Gu Xiulan as well since she was also on her way there. Her other friend had obviously broken through to Silver given the length of the hair loosely gathered into a tail that hung down to her hips and the clear smoothness in her skin. Sparks seemed to leap in Gu Xiulan’s brown eyes, marking her ascent to greater heights of cultivation.

  Ling Qi congratulated her and even Meizhen politely acknowledged Xiulan as they walked, listening with distant interest as the two of them discussed their plans to find a proper challenge. As they approached the pavilion, conversation drifted off as raised voices reached them. Ling Qi shared a worried look with a frowning Xiulan but continued forward.

  When they rounded the corner, the sight they saw was more alarming still. The council stood divided. On one side stood Cai Renxiang, Gan Guangli, Xuan Shi, and Huang Da. On the other side stood Sun Liling, Lu Feng, and Kang Zihao and the two boys who had been with him at the last meeting. They were all at least in the second realm, except for one of Kang’s minions, a miserable looking boy who looked as if he dearly wished to be elsewhere.

  There were two things that surprised her. One was Ji Rong, who flanked Sun Liling with crossed arms and a furious scowl. Thin red lines like tattoos burned on his neck and hands, peeking out from under his robes. The second was that Sun Liling was fully in the third realm if her senses weren’t wrong.

  “Looks like the snake showed up. Thought you were gonna skip this one,” Sun Liling drawled as she caught sight of the three of them. “At least someone on this mountain is making a go of keeping up with me. Figures it’d be you.”


  “Bai Meizhen, Ling Qi, Gu Xiulan,” Cai Renxiang greeted in a tight voice, not taking her eyes off Sun Liling. She wasn’t the only one to do so. Gan Guangli’s expression was thunderous, and he was already swelling in height. Huang Da wasn’t much better. “It appears that I have been far too trusting and merciful. Already, rebellion forms in our ranks.”


  Sun Liling snorted. “Oh, come off it. I agreed to play your game because I figured it’d lead to some good scraps. Turns out everyone’s too spineless to even try and stand up to you. How boring is that?”


  “Spoken like the rabid dog you are, daughter of Sun,” Bai Meizhen said, eyeing the scene before them with distaste. Ling Qi spotted Han Jian and Han Fang in the distance, approaching from a different path.

  “Nah, I’m just keeping to the natural order of things,” Sun Liling replied with a shrug. “The strong rise to the top. And I’m thinking you’re less qualified than I thought, Cai Renxiang, if you haven’t even broken through to green or bronze yet.”


  “Raw cultivation is hardly the only measure of strength,” Cai Renxiang said, the light behind her steadily growing. Ling Qi had a feeling the only reason Gan Guangli wasn’t deafening them all with angry declarations was a refusal to interrupt his lady. “I will remember this betrayal after I have defeated you, Princess.” Her hard gaze swept over the rest of Sun Liling’s group, including them all in her statement.

  “I am of the West. My life belongs to the Sun family and the princess,” Lu Feng said. “My resolve won’t be shaken so easily. Besides, another chance to humiliate the buffoon beside you is welcome.”


  “My apologies, Lady Cai,” Kang Zihao said, seemingly sincere for once. “I cannot ignore the obligations of my clan. That you would invite the serpent into your council is but the tipping point.”


  “Man, are we done bullshitting yet? You said I’d get my shot at making that jackass eat his ugly hat,” Ji Rong grumbled at Sun Liling. “Besides, that elixir you gave me has my blood boiling. I’m gonna need to scrap soon.”


  “I name you fool and savage,” Xuan Shi intoned, staring evenly at Ji Rong and Sun Liling while clutching his staff tightly in his hands. “Another taste of silence awaits you.”


  “VILLAINS AND TRAITORS, ALL OF YOU!” It seemed Gan Guangli could no longer restrain himself. “To spit on Lady Cai’s generosity and disrupt her order so. Do not think you will be forgiven!”


  Huang Da remained silent, his normally easy-going expression set in a scowl as he sized up Ji Rong.

  Ling Qi’s fingers twitched, wishing for a weapon, and she shared a look with Bai Meizhen. Her friend looked as if she dearly wished to step in, out of sheer dislike for Sun Liling. However, it seemed that Ling Qi’s presence made her hesitate.

  A bizarre thought occurred to her then. Ling Qi could probably tip things in Cai’s favor pretty heavily. Aside from Bai Meizhen, Gu Xiulan had been spoiling for a fight for weeks and would likely follow her in, which meant Han Jian and Han Fang would join battle on Cai’s side. Was joining in the best idea though? She could still easily stay out of this. That thought lasted barely a moment. Even if she had little investment in the Cai heiress’ government, her foes were Meizhen’s enemies, and wasn’t that enough?

  Kang Zihao opened his mouth as if to speak again, but before a word could escape, a white streak of light flashed across the field toward the nervous boy standing at Kang Zihao’s side. The son of the imperial guard captain moved almost instantly, bringing up his gleaming silver shield to deflect the projectile. But he was a hair too slow, and rather than deflecting it entirely, the wind-guided blade sliced across his subordinate’s shoulder, drawing a thin burst of misty-blue qi.

  Kang Zihao scowled at Ling Qi, who had thrown the knife, but before he could speak, Ling Qi said flatly, “Whatever you’re going to say, stow it.” Ling Qi, who had triggered her Against the Wind technique off of the first realm, felt her qi take hold of both of Kang’s minions and surprisingly, Lu Feng, wind grasping at their limbs with currents of wind. “I know where I stand,” she continued, nodding to Bai Meizhen, who gave her an unreadable look as the twisting metal ribbons of her weapon appeared in her hand. “Let’s just get to the part where we beat you down over with.”


  Ling Qi thought she sounded pretty cool despite the pounding of her heart in her ears and the screaming from the more cautious part of her mind at her impulsiveness.

  “Ha! It really is too bad you’re with the snake,” Sun Liling said, her features lighting with a feral grin. The princess slashed her fingers across her right forearm, drawing a spray of blood.

  Then everything went mad.

  Gan Guangli charged forward with a bellow of righteous fury, light blazing from his forearms as a pair of heavy iron gauntlets appeared, studded with spikes longer than Ling Qi’s knives. The gauntlets looked more like something that would be used to batter down gates than something to be worn, and the impression was only reinforced by the explosion of dust as he slammed a ham-sized fist into the ground where Lu Feng had just been standing.

  Sun Liling became little more than a red blur, dark armor spreading across her limbs and torso in the time it took her to cross the distance to Cai Renxiang, her grinning face vanishing behind the toothy maw of the demonic visage that formed her helmet. Cai Renxiang’s oversized saber was torn from the ground in a spray of dirt, its sheath unraveling before Ling Qi’s eyes into a cloud of dark blue thread and exposing a similarly colored blade. It swung up to meet the thorny spear forming in Sun Liling’s hands. Ling Qi was forced back a step, throwing up her arm to shield her eyes from the shockwave that erupted from the meeting of their weapons.

  “Awaken, Liming.” Cai Renxiang’s harsh voice cut through the growing cacophony, and the wings emblazoned across her chest burned with sudden light and intelligence, the patterns warping into something like bestial eyes. The sleeves of Cai Renxiang’s gown shredded apart, exposing her pale, sleekly muscled arms. Ling Qi could see the unraveled thread glittering in the air around Cai Renxiang before it gathered at her back, mingling with the blazing light she emitted, to form wings of radiance.

  Even as Cai Renxiang rose into the air, the clearing shook with a thunderous gong like the great bell in a temple being struck by a battering ram. Ji Rong had reached Xuan Shi, his fists blazing like miniature suns and crackling rings of electricity forming around his ankles. His charge was stopped by a wall of stone raised with a stamp of the other boy’s foot, but it was blown apart by the power of the scarred boy’s fists. Huang Da blurred, vanishing from sight in the wave of dust and shrapnel that Ji Rong created.

  “Cui.” Meizhen’s voice reached her ears, but whatever instructions given must have been silent because it was followed only by Cui springing from her perch on Meizhen’s throat and swelling rapidly in size before landing on the ground with a crash. Venom glistened on Cui’s exposed fangs. For her part, Meizhen had begun to draw on her mantle, streamers of water forming a dark hood that shadowed her face, lending her the terrible presence that Ling Qi had started to grow so used to in previous spars. Her friend’s golden eyes snapped open, burning with internal light, and Ling Qi shuddered as the very air seemed to warp and ripple with the force of her presence.

  Even without having it aimed at her, Ling Qi could feel the terror that Bai Meizhen exuded, and she saw a shudder pass through Lu Feng. For Kang Zihao’s unnamed minions, it was worse. The first realm went pale as milk, a strangled scream escaping his throat as he began to rapidly back away; the other held on better, but Ling Qi could see his teeth chattering.

  “Stand steady,” Kang Zihao barked, handsome face set in a severe expression. His words were backed by qi, and the air seemed to briefly shimmer in the space around him, pushing back against the growing pall of Meizhen’s presence.

  Meizhen simply began to advance with steady steps, uncaring of his efforts to resist. Their impending duel was interrupted by a searing beam of flame that Kang Zihao caught on his shield, and Ling Qi looked beside her to see Gu Xiulan grinning like a madwoman, the air around her rippling with heat while sparks danced around her fingers.

  Individual actions became harder to track after that as Ling Qi focused on playing the Melody of the Vale, mist rolling out in a cloying wave from her flute and deadening slightly the sounds of battle. The cost of including so many allies was sharp, but she thought it worth it, particularly as she felt her qi latch onto Lu Feng, muddling his senses.

  Everything felt slightly unreal to Ling Qi. Her previous battles had never seemed quite so…… beyond human in scope. Sun Liling, now fully encased in demonic red armor with a triumvirate of fanged faces on her helm, wielded her spear with impossible skill. Another pair of skeletal arms formed on her shoulders, already wielding vicious, jagged-edged blades that clashed with what seemed like a living star. Cai Renxiang was barely even visible within her corona of light save as a vague, winged figure unleashing scorching arcs of burning light with every sweep of the dark blade in her hands. She flitted through the sky, shockwaves erupting each time she fell upon Sun Liling like a meteor.

  Sun Liling’s voice snapped out something garbled in a language Ling Qi didn’t understand, and bloody mist streamed from her back, solidifying into the tall and willowy form of a beautiful bronze-skinned woman in scant, red silk scarves and nothing else. Ling Qi felt qi begin to exude from the captivating form of the spirit and her mist shimmered, growing warm around the woman as flowers began to bloom at her feet.

  It was an oddly captivating scene, and for a moment, Ling Qi found herself with the urge to step forward and lie among the flowers…… until Cui struck, sinking venomous fangs into the creature’s thigh. Then spirit’s eyes burned red, and its beautiful face twisted in a rictus of bloodthirsty fury, cheeks and lips coming apart and exposing sinewy muscle and inch long glistening fangs. It roared and hurled Cui away, uncaring for the spray of blood as it tore the serpent’s fangs free.

  Ling Qi no longer had the luxury to observe when Kang Zihao charged toward the three of them, earth cracking beneath him as metallic coloring flowed across his skin. Behind him was a great white hound with an iron collar. Kang Zihao engaged Meizhen with a shout even as the hound dashed past, blazing fast, to leap at Ling Qi, seemingly unimpeded by the mist.

  Ling Qi twisted out of the beast’s path, dancing away into the mists and leaving the hound behind. Kang’s slightly recovered minions threw out their hands, having finished a chant of some kind, and scattered what looked like small clay tiles with glowing characters carved upon them.

  Ling Qi flinched as the pulse of qi washed over her but threw it off before it could take hold, only stumbling for a brief second as the weight of her limbs seemed to quadruple. Xiulan grimaced and stumbled as well, throwing off her aim as she attempted to burn the hound that had just attacked Ling Qi. Out of the corner of her eyes, Ling Qi saw Huang Da go flying like a ragdoll as one of Ji Rong’s fists slammed home on his chest.

  Then, both of Kang’s minions went flying as well when thunder boomed across the battlefield, a crater appearing where they had stood. Han Fang’s muscular frame was emerging from the dust before the dust was whipped up into a spinning cone and slammed into the stronger of the two minions at the direction of Han Jian’s sword. Kang’s minion screamed as the scouring wind shredded his robes and tore at his skin.

  Ling Qi drew her bow to help put down Kang Zihao’s spirit beast. It seemed to her that Kang Zihao’s intent was simply to prevent Meizhen from engaging anyone else with the defensive manner he fought, hunkered down behind his shield and focused entirely on avoiding Meizhen’s furiously hissing metal ribbons. All around him, the air seemed to warp weirdly, and Bai Meizhen grimaced as she found herself drawn back toward Kang by an invisible force whenever she tried to disengage. Kang’s face grew paler each time Meizhen made the attempt though.

  “Red Thorn Death Flight.”


  Ling Qi looked up at the sound of Sun Liling’s distorted voice to see the girl floating in midair, well above her mist. The extra limbs she had grown had solidified fully, with muscle and armor appearing over the initial bone. Sun Liling flung her spear downward, and it exploded into a hundred blazing streaks of bloody light. Then, Ling Qi could only dodge and desperately flare her qi to initiate her Gale Shield technique, blasting out a circle of wind to deflect the deadly rain.

  Ling Qi screamed as several of the jagged blood shards tore right through her spinning winds, slicing across her limbs and in one case, embedding itself in her shoulder. The wounds burned painfully, and she could see smoke rising from her cuts as the skin around them blackened and burned.

  The technique had rained down on the entire battlefield and blown away her mist, revealing the battlefield in its entirety. Bai Meizhen still battled furiously with an increasingly battered Kang Zihao, although she now bled from several wounds. Gu Xiulan’s right arm hung limply from her shoulder and she bled freely as well, now desperately retreating from Kang’s advancing hound.

  Further back, neither of Kang’s minions still stood, and Han Jian was unharmed but at cost. Han Fang slumped down in from of him, arms which had been held out collapsing to his sides as he fell to his knees, bleeding from a dozen wounds. Han Jian’s normally relaxed expression was set in fury as he scowled up at the figures in the sky.

  The brawl between Ji Rong and the other two boys was in its late stages as well. Huang Da struggled to his feet, his chin stained with blood as he clutched his ribs. Ji Rong was hardly in better shape, letting out panting breaths like a winded bull even as steam began to rise from the tattoos on his flesh. His left arm was frozen stiff and unmoving. Xuan Shi looked unscathed as the dome of rock around him crumbled, but Ling Qi thought his qi seemed to be quite depleted.

  Gan Guangli stood bloodied but unbowed, nearing four meters in height. Lu Feng lay at the bottom of a meter deep crater at his feet.

  Meanwhile, the struggle between Cui and Liling’s spirit continued unabated. Cui hissed and thrashed furiously as the thing tore at her scales with claws of jagged wood, and bloody flowers bloomed around them. Liling’s spirit had only grown more hideous, bone and sinew exposed as flesh sloughed off under the assault of Cui’s venom.

  Ling Qi’s eyes were torn from the battlefield when a blazing ray of light slammed down on the descending figure of Sun Liling, blasting her into the ground. A molten crater was burned into the pavilion floor as the armored girl was driven into the foundation by the force of the beam. Cai Renxiang’s light had faded since the start of the fight, enough to see the girl. She was pale and winded, strain showing in the set of her jaw and unnatural exhaustion in the trembling of her limbs.

  Sun Liling’s laughter preceded her leap from the glowing crater, and she landed on the pavilion’s crumbling roof. “Ha! I guess your mother knows what she’s doing after all.” Sun Liling’s armor was charred and cracked. One of her extra limbs had broken off, and a chunk of the helmet was missing, exposing the feral grin still on her face. “That thing you’re wearing is ridiculous.”


  “You have little room to speak, Princess Sun,” the heiress replied stiffly, the wings of light on her back flaring as she stilled the trembling in her limbs. The lower part of the gown had begun to unravel, revealing knee-high boots. “Yield. Your side of this conflict is crumbling around you.”


  Ling Qi thought that might be an optimistic assessment, but on second thought, even with the destruction Sun Liling had rained down, her side was losing. Kang could only hold against Meizhen for so long, and she was fairly confident Xuan Shi and Huang Da could handle the increasingly unsteady Ji Rong.

  “As if I’d end such a good fight before it’s even over,” the redhead rejected. “This is doing just fine at settling my foundations, Cai. Come at me!”


  Ling Qi grimaced. It might not be the wisest course of action, but Ling Qi did not care. Gu Xiulan was hurt badly, and she would be damned before she let Kang’s mutt maul her. Ignoring the renewed sounds of battle and Gan Guangli’s roar, she spun toward Xiulan, nocking an arrow. The wind around her spiraled inward, howling as it condensed around her arrow, and a crackling electrical current sparked on the iron arrowhead.

  Ling Qi felt a rush of dark satisfaction as the arrow screamed from her bow and plunged into the dog’s side, puncturing through its shielding qi and its metallic white fur. She bared her teeth in a vicious expression at the dog’s yelp of pain.

  “Do not falter! CRUSH THESE REBELS!” A voice she barely recognized as Han Jian’s echoed across the battlefield, cutting through the noise along with a sudden blaze of golden light. Han Jian stood over his unconscious cousin, black stripes tracing themselves on his face and hands while a golden banner of light formed behind him. This wasn’t a technique she had ever seen him use before. Ling Qi felt the pain of her wounds fading, and a rush of confidence and drive burned in her veins and set her heart pounding.

  She wasn’t the only one to feel so either. Gu Xiulan straightened, regaining her agility just in time to dodge the hound’s attack. Fires bloomed on her fingertips, and a trio of curving white hot lances burst out, two twisting to cut off the hound’s avenues of escape and the third carving a blackened line of burned flesh across its shoulder.

  Another shockwave struck then. She glimpsed Gan Guangli falling back, his footsteps shaking the earth, when Sun Liling’s spike-heeled boots crashed into his cheek, snapping his head to the side violently. The laughing redhead used the massive boy’s face as a springboard to launch herself up at Cai Renxiang.

  In the other battle, Ji Rong was screaming, his tattoos blazing brightly as whatever effect had bound his arm shattered. He was immediately wreathed in a halo of lightning, his hair spiked and on end. Ji Rong launched himself fist first at Xuan Shi, whose ringed staff rang like a struck bell when Ji Rong punched the black barrier of pure qi it raised.

  She could not spare much attention to Meizhen, but she could tell the girl was growing ever more infuriated with her opponent. It occurred to her that many of Bai Meizhen’s techniques seemed to function best in response to an attack, something that Kang had not given Meizhen the opportunity to exploit. Ling Qi supposed it likely that Meizhen was also trying not to expend too much qi in taking down Kang given that she’d likely be moving on to fight Sun Liling next.

  Ling Qi drew back her bowstring, circling Meizhen’s fight so that when the dog went down, she would have a clear shot at Kang Zihao. This time though, she had nothing to show for it. Her arrow glanced off the hound’s metallic fur, doing little but ripping a patch of hair free.

  The dog lunged at Gu Xiulan, and Xiulan screamed as its jaws closed on her lower leg with a painful crunch. Even as the hound knocked her from her feet with a vicious twist of its head though, fire bloomed in Xiulan’s hands, and a half dozen lashes of blue-white fire scoured the spirit beast’s hide, finally causing the thing to whimper and collapse, its grip on her leg loosening.

  The battle with Sun Liling appeared to be going slightly better. Gan Guangli, joined by Han Jian, harried her movements. Sun Liling was forced to dodge the falling boulders that Gan Guangli’s fists had become. Han Jian circled her, the flicker of afterimages in his wake, and he prodded her defenses with careful strikes while Cai Renxiang rained down destructive beams.

  It was not to last though. As Sun Liling ducked under an arc of destructive light, the butt of her spear swung around in a red blur, slamming once then twice across Han Jian’s face. The first blow staggered the boy, and the second sent him flying to slam into the stone foundations of the pavilion with a crack.

  “Enough screwing around!” The redhead launched herself away from her foes, landing a dozen meters away.Ling Qi felt a surge of unease as Sun Liling gabbled something unintelligible and was answered by tinkling peals of laughter from her spirit, which seemed little more than a bloody, spike-studded skeleton of wood at this point.

  The feeling of dread grew when she saw the thing, Cui’s fang’s buried in its throat, explode into a blizzard of yellow flower petals. Ling Qi winced as she heard Cui’s voice scream in her thoughts, but even that was overshadowed by the riot of color that erupted. Flowers twisted and erupted from the ground, rising and blooming into bright yellow flowers atop stalks nearly a meter tall. The qi on the battlefield began to drain into the flowers, visible as motes of light.

  Her attention was drawn back to her side of the battlefield though as another scream rang out. Kang Zihao’s shield had been torn from his hand, and Bai Meizhen’s pale hand was wrapped around his throat. He thrashed in her grip, weapon forgotten and dropping from nerveless fingers, and his veins stood out as red lines on his skin. Meizhen flung the screaming boy aside.

  “Destroy those things now!” Meizhen’s icy voice cracked across the battlefield.

  Sun Liling slammed into Cai Renxiang like a red comet and smashed the glowing heiress to the earth. Ling Qi could see Sun Liling’s armor repairing itself and what wounds she had closing visibly before her eyes. Gan Guangli barreled into her from behind like a runaway cart, forcing Sun Liling away from his lady.

  Ling Qi wavered briefly, unsure of what to do, but then rushed forward, dropping her bow to draw her flute. She summoned her mist and constructs of dissonance, engulfing the sunflowers in mist. In the distance, Sun Liling let out a cry of irritation.

  Fire bloomed, and she saw Gu Xiulan rising to one knee and raising her hands above her head, gathering a churning orb of flames wider than her shoulders. Bai Meizhen’s mantle of dark water exploded outward, cutting a swathe through the flowers like a pressurized hose and sending up a spray of mud as it dug them out by the roots.

  She spotted Cai rising to her feet unsteadily from the trench her body had dug into the ground, a grimace on her face as the wings on her back flickered and stuttered in and out of existence, sending strobes of light across the battlefield, even as she reengaged Sun Liling, driving her away from the flowers.

  As Ling Qi’s fingers danced over her flute, a thought occurred to her. If the flowers were absorbing qi…… She shifted her tune to Starlight Elegy, the song growing mournful and dirge-like. She felt satisfaction as the flowers’ qi gathering slowed to a trickle, even as Gu Xiulan’s fireball carved a wide circle of destruction in the flowers that remained outside of her mist.

  Then a crimson blur tore through her mist, scattering it, and Ling Qi desperately ducked beneath a blur of blood-red metal she could barely see. Her eyes widened as she realized that Sun Liling had come straight after her. Ling Qi could only fall back, frantically dodging attacks that seemingly came from impossible angles. The twin swords in the girl’s extra arms hemmed her in and reduced her options. She ducked and weaved in an attempt to avoid the thorny point of the demonic figure’s spear, but it was in vain. She had an instant to feel regret when she dodged in the wrong direction and saw the incoming red blur.

  Pain lanced through her stomach as the barbed spear slammed into and through her abdomen. Burning agony from the Crimson Princess’ corrosive blood overwhelmed her. Darkness.

  Threads 63-Dressmaker 3

  Ling Qi looked down at their destination, tucked away at the end of a winding river valley. Trees grew thickly at the riverside, and the branches hung heavy with cocoons. The silken wrappings were a riot of colors and glittered like jewels under the morning sun. Some were tiny, barely the length of a finger, while others were large enough to hold a small child. In the dark shadows of thick canopy, she heard the susurrus of thousands of wings and spied the movement of many fuzzy insect bodies.

  Yet even more than the cocoon forest, the building at the end of the valley consumed her attention. She could think of only one thing to say.

  “It’s very bright,” Ling Qi said, something between wonder and trepidation in her tone.

  “Mother’s apprentices are all somewhat eccentric,” Cai Renxiang agreed, peering down at the sprawling, blazingly bright pagoda complex.

  Ling Qi supposed she was being unfair. It wasn’t the sort of eye-searing monstrosity that Elder Jiao presented himself with. The pagoda was like a sunrise rendered into architecture, bands of vibrant color that seemed to shift every time she moved her eyes. Roof tiles shone like mirrors, and burning braziers hung from the eaves, crackling with pinkish white and pale orange flames.

  “The Dawn isn’t the worst, so far as sun spirits go, but ugh, that’s a lot of solar qi,” Sixiang grumbled.

  “Mm, while it is not for me, there is nothing inherently wrong with brighter colors,” Meizhen mused, standing beside them with her hands tucked into her sleeves. “The Coral Serpent families cultivate their towers and temples in a similar fashion.”


  Ling Qi glanced at Meizhen, trying to picture a Bai dressed in bright and gaudy colors. She failed. “Should we head down? We have an appointment.”


  “Quite right,” Cai Renxiang said briskly. “Sir Lin is quite busy. Let us not be rude by making him wait.”


  They descended the stairs carved into the hillside and found the path leading toward Lin Hai’s workshop. Paved with white stone, it stood out sharply in the darkness beneath the trees. That darkness, Ling Qi noted, was artificial given the dense dark qi infused into the leaves, causing them to cast wider and darker shadows. It seemed to be for the benefit of the multitude of moths that flew and nested above their heads. Like the cocoons, they came in a myriad of colors, sizes, and shapes.

  In the end, she put them out of her mind. The spirit beasts were happy to mind their own business, and she was happy enough to mind hers.

  Sixiang chuckled.

  Ling Qi kept her eyebrows from twitching and ignored Sixiang as they left the shadow of the trees and stepped onto the stone path that wound through the colorful gardens that surrounded the main building. As her eyes roamed up the stairs which lead onto the wide veranda surrounding the main building, she almost startled as she met a pair of bright green eyes.

  There, lounging on the railing, was a beautiful woman with long golden hair and fair features wearing a scandalous, pale rose gown that left her shoulders bare and displayed a near indecent part of her generous chest. The hem of the gown barely fell past her knees and rode almost halfway up her thigh thanks to the position she was seated in. Ling Qi barely had time to take the sight of her in, along with the unsettling fact that she had not felt her presence at all, before the woman vanished in a flash of light, leaving a fox with pale golden fur and five tails to leap down from the railing and then trot off into the interior of the pagoda.

  “That is Sir Lin’s spirit companion,” Cai Renxiang said from beside her. “She is likely going ahead to announce us and rouse him from his labors.”


  “Of course,” Ling Qi replied automatically. In retrospect, it was pretty obvious.

  “He should teach his spirits to appear more appropriately in their human shapes,” Meizhen said with a sniff.

  As they mounted the stairs, Cai Renxiang said, “Worry not. Although Sir Lin has extravagant tastes in his personal appearance, he remains a master of more traditional fashions.”


  Ling Qi glanced down at her dress, which was apparently the man’s work. She supposed that he must be given the style of her own dress.

  Sixiang chuckled.

  Ling Qi kept her peace as they entered the pagoda proper and came to a comfortably appointed waiting room lined with lavish couches and hanging planters full of colorful flowers. A closed set of sliding doors awaited on the far side of the room. When she stepped through, a pace behind the others, she glanced back to see the doors swinging silently shut behind them. Yet the room did not grow dark. The paper lantern hanging from the ceiling, painted with images of the dawn on all four sides, managed to cast enough light that it still felt like they were standing outside.

  Ling Qi had just turned to look at Cai Renxiang, opening her mouth to ask if they should take their seats when the faint rattle of sliding doors cut off her words. Across the room, the doors slid apart, and dark purple mist billowed out, crawling along the floor and rising in churning strands of fog. Then lights, a beam of solar radiance that shot from the lantern overhead only to split into four smaller beams, carved a channel through the mist for the figure that emerged.

  Tall and thin as a willow whip, the man that strutted from the mist had features far more fine and delicate than even most women. His long black hair was like silk, and faded to a dark purple color in the ringlets that reached his bare shoulders. He wore a billowing, open-chested violet top with a thick layer of feathery material around the low cut, partially concealing his shoulders and chest. Ling Qi felt herself flush darkly as her gaze slipped down, and she immediately fixed her eyes on his face rather than the skin-hugging black silk pants he was wearing.

  Even then, she couldn’t help but notice further details like the hint of color on his lips or the thickness of his eyelashes. If she had just looked at his face in isolation, she would have been almost sure that it was the face of a woman. As she contemplated that, the lights swung back in to illuminate him then exploded into motes of light, scattering the purple mist and leaving only a few streamers curling around his sleek boots.

  “Lady Ren!” greeted Lin Hai. The man stood with one hand on his hip and the other cupping his chin. A golden jeweled claw that encased his pointer finger rose to tap against his cheek. “How was the entrance? I believe I have improved since last time.”


  “It was very impressive,” her liege replied. “A very controlled display.”


  “Of course that is the part you would compliment,” the man said ruefully. “Still, I was not wholly certain how much your companions would be able to handle.” The strangely dressed man before her rippled then, space seeming to stretch and warp for a bare instant as she glimpsed his unrestrained qi, vast and placid. Sights and sounds and smells crawled along the edge of her senses, a decadent riot, an endless festival of sensation just out of reach. Then it was gone, and only the man remained.

  “You are preparing to take the next step then?” Cai Renxiang asked. “Mother will be pleased.”


  “I will not boast until my first star has bloomed and my elder’s seal has been received,” the peak fifth realm cultivator replied easily. It was interesting he had not already been chosen to be an elder. Normally just being a fifth realm was enough.“But enough of myself. I see you have brought two of my children back to see me, and their owners, too, at that. My apologies, young ladies, but might I have your names?”


  “I am Bai Meizhen,” her friend greeted first with a shallow bow appropriate to greeting an unrelated senior. “Thank you for the work you have already provided.”


  Ling Qi bowed a little deeper as one would to a clear superior. “Sir Lin, it is an honor to meet you. I am Ling Qi. Your work has been invaluable to me.”


  “It was a pleasure to do a favor for Lady Ren,” Lin Hai said, abandoning his pose to stroll toward them. “And a wonderful challenge to create something appropriate with such limited materials. That it brought the Young Miss to my doorstep was a welcome bonus.”


  Ling Qi glanced toward Cai Renxiang, whose expression was a touch wooden by her judgement. “Your encouragement toward irresponsibility is noted, Sir Lin, and also dismissed, as always,” she said.

  “Ah, it seems I have earned a rebuke, although yours are not so sharp as Master’s just yet, Lady Ren,” the odd man chuckled, and filtered through Sixiang’s perceptions, she thought that she caught a fleeting hint of melancholy from him. It was gone before her muse could so much as articulate the feeling, but it left Ling Qi to wonder at the history implied there.

  Lin Hai clapped his hands then, and any hint that he was less than boisterous and cheerful vanished. “So, let us inspect how my children have fared over the last year,” he announced brightly. He stepped toward Bai Meizhen, who looked up at him with a staid expression.

  “You will find no fault with my maintenance, Sir Lin,” her friend said evenly, managing to look up at the taller man without craning her neck.

  “Of course not, Miss Bai,” he dismissed, inspecting her carefully. He flicked his golden clawed finger at the air above her shoulder, and shimmering spectral threads rose, dancing around the man’s fingers. “However, the impression of this child’s experiences will allow me to determine the best way to improve upon the original weave.”


  “Are our gowns alive already then?” Ling Qi asked tentatively, thinking back to what her gown had done in the dream and a few other moments of odd reactions from it.

  “That is a more difficult question than you might think, young lady,” Lin Hai said, not looking up from the complex weave that had formed over her friend’s shoulder. “There are many degrees of life, you will find, but in the traditional sense, no. I am not my master; such craft is beyond me for the moment. That said, their potential lies closer to the surface than most.” He flicked his fingers again, and the spectral threads dissolved. “You are a redoubtable young woman indeed, Miss Bai. It seems this child is a good match. I know just the materials to use for your improvements and custom pieces.”


  He turned to Ling Qi and repeated the motion with his fingers. This time, the threads he drew from her shoulder sparked and snapped like oil from the pan as they wrapped around his fingers. Lin Hai’s eyebrows climbed to his hairline. “I see you have met my master as well,” he said. “Lady Ren?”


  “She is a direct retainer of the Cai. Mother granted me certain dispensations,” Cai Renxiang answered carefully. Bai Meizhen glanced at Ling Qi with pursed lips but did not ask the obvious question.

  Ling Qi remembered the thread of Liming she had accepted when she pledged to Cai Renxiang and looked down at her gown uncomfortably.

  “Well, Master does as Master wills,” Lin Hai said cheerfully, peering down with narrowed eyes at the incomprehensible pattern of sparking and snapping threads that curled around his fingers. “So I am afraid that I will not be able to improve on your gown directly, Miss Ling. This girl has a seed of self, and I will not alter that. But my, what a jealous daughter. I shall have to be careful in fixing your accessories so that she does not take offense.”


  “Why do you refer to my gown as a ‘she’ if it is not alive yet?” Ling Qi asked, plucking at her sleeve. She sensed no spirit in the threads, but she wasn’t going to say that the gown’s maker was wrong.

  “Because she is a girl, of course,” Lin Hai said in amusement. “Miss Bai’s gown is not quite so far along just yet.”


  “I should certainly hope that my gown does not develop into a man,” Bai Meizhen said with a voice as dry as a desert.

  “Unlikely as it is, I will not preclude the possibility,” Lin Hai shot back, his painted lips curving slightly up. “It would not do to confuse the poor dear before it is even developed enough for there to be a difference. It is not my way – nor my master’s way – to repeat the mistakes of nature in our work.”


  Ling Qi’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. She glanced at Cai Renxiang, who merely shook her head. Some kind of private matter then?

  “Very well,” Bai Meizhen said after a moment, though her tone was dubious. “I suppose it is not an important matter for the moment.”


  “Indeed. Proud as I am of my work, without my master’s touch, it will still be some decades yet,” Lin Hai said agreeably, stepping away. “Let us away to my boutique then, and we can begin laying out your options.”


  The three of them followed Lin Hai back through the doors from which he emerged, entering a long hallway. Many rooms opened off of it, some closed and some open. It reminded her of Zeqing’s home in the way things seemed to move in the corner of her eye and the strangely stretched feeling of the space within. Several times in the side rooms where vast looms and collections of tailor’s tools spun and cut and stitched, she thought she spotted the fox woman again, doing various tasks. Or perhaps there were several similar looking spirits. It was difficult to tell.

  Sixiang murmured. The muse did not seem so much wary as deeply curious and a bit on edge. Ling Qi could understand. It felt uncomfortably warm in Lin Hai’s residence, thanks to the solar qi suffusing the air. She supposed the feeling was just her preference; neither Meizhen or Cai Renxiang showed any signs of discomfort.

  Soon, they came to a room filled with a riot of color. Gowns and robes and cloaks hung like a glittering jungle from displays all around, and shoes and slippers and boots of every make lined shelves around the show floor.

  “And here we are. Let us begin your consultations,” Lin Hai said airily. The odd man snapped his fingers, and his outline wavered like the reflection in a disturbed lake. In the next moment, there were three of him, one facing each of them.

  Bai Meizhen glanced her way. “I would prefer to be able to give and receive some advice from my companions,” she said.

  “Of course, young miss,” Lin Hai said, speaking from three mouths. “I know how much fun it is for young ladies to critique and advise one another. However, I need to determine your individual tastes before I can present the best options.”


  “Very well,” Meizhen acceded after a moment and nodded to Cai Renxiang and Ling Qi. “I will see you in a moment then.”


  “Indeed,” Cai Renxiang said gravely, turning toward the section of the display where the more metallically-textured pieces hung.

  “See you both,” Ling Qi added, nerves causing her to slip in her diction. However, her concern was swiftly assuaged as one of the Lin Hai led her away. They were not leaving the room. Both of her friends were still in sight, although the sounds of their conversations with their own images were muted to her ears.

  “I am glad that Lady Ren’s description of you was so exacting. Darker hues most definitely fit you,” Lin Hai commented as he led her into a forest of dark cloth and silk. “Now, I have heard of your troubles. What sort of image is it that you wish to present?”


  “I had thought that you would be the one to tell me that,” Ling Qi replied wryly. “I’ve been told that my taste is somewhat lacking.”


  “Nonsense, nonsense.” The core disciple made a dismissive flick of his fingers. “Oh, I can certainly advise you on trends – court fashion is trending toward lighter garb and away from the swimming in silk look popular under His Honored Highness An, and that is in no small part thanks to my master – but my role is ultimately to guide my clients to a destination that they choose. Sometimes, that means guiding my clients to whatever fashion will give them an advantage in the game of court, but……” He paused, meeting her eyes with a thin smile on his painted lips. “You do not seem like the sort for masks and self-deception. The Argent Mirror is a little troublesome like that.”


  Ling Qi flicked her eyes away from his. Well, this was someone on the cusp of becoming an elder in the Argent Sect. “I am not sure of what image I wish to present, to be honest. This gown…… I love it,” she admitted. “It’s the nicest thing I have ever owned, and it reminds me that I am not weak anymore, that I don’t have to be. I don’t want to cause trouble for Lady Cai though, and wearing the same thing all the time apparently does that.”


  Lin Hai gave a wry chuckle. “I cannot say that I am displeased to hear a child of mine so cherished. However, yes, society does not much smile on wearing the same clothes every day.” He let out a curious hum and reached over, plucking at the hem of her cloak. Ling Qi felt it waver and shift. The heavy mantle changed, transforming from a heavy mantle to a light half cloak of deep violet, and then with another pluck, silk writhed like a serpent, transforming into a sky blue ribbon of silk that wound around her shoulders, floating softly in the air.

  Her eyes widened. “I didn’t know it could do that.” Ling Qi knew she could make the mantle appear and disappear at will, but she didn’t know it could change like that.

  “‘She,’ darling,” Lin Hai corrected absently, brushing the tip of his golden claw across the silk. The pattern on the silk changed, transforming from a plain blue to a complex pattern that looked like moving, falling snowflakes. “The mantle was always made to change, but Master’s enhancement gave her far more versatility. Hm, yes, I think what you need are merely options. Alternate panels and layers, a few more pairs of shoes, perhaps some lace inserts for your sleeves. Your hair would complement gemstones well, so perhaps something could be done with that.”


  Ling Qi remained silent as the craftsman spoke to himself. “I do not think I should like anything too bright,” she said, avoiding the use of the word ‘gaudy.’ Across the room, she saw Meizhen inspecting a long and winding cloth, similar to the one her mantle had currently become.

  “Of course not. Silver is your color, perhaps with ground onyx or jet, some dark amethyst, or some paler blues if we wanted a bit of brightness.” Lin Hai hummed. “Before I think further on the matter, what sort of talisman do you think you are looking for today?”


  Ling Qi was glad to return to something she had more confidence in. She had discussed the matter with Meizhen after the embroidery session, and the girl had sold her on the idea of hand jewelry, the little arrangement of bracelets and rings connected by chains or charms that she had seen some people wearing now and then. It was something that originated in the Thousand Lakes apparently, popular among the more daring sort of Bai ladies. She glanced at Lin Hai’s own golden claw; she didn’t want something that ostentatious though.

  “I was thinking of some kind of hand jewelry, maybe with moon imagery. I use many sustained constructs and techniques in combat, so I need something that will help defend me from an enemy’s efforts to dispel them.”


  “Been sparring with the Young Miss quite a bit, I see,” Lin Hai chuckled.

  “Yes,” Ling Qi admitted.

  “I believe it should not be difficult to whip up something of the sort,” Lin Hai said, gesturing idly toward a display case which held a plethora of gleaming jewelry. Rings and bracelets and charms rose into the air like a glittering school of fish and swam through the air toward them. “That does bring me to the other matter. What do you think of Lady Ren, Miss Ling?”


  Ling Qi blinked, then blinked again, glancing across the room to where Cai Renxiang stood stiffly, discussing something with another Lin Hai. As she watched, the copy struck another pose as a winding belt of thick gold links slithered off of a display shelf to circle around him. “I am not sure what you mean, Sir Lin,” she replied.

  “I mean what I said. Lady Ren is dear to me, but I cannot say that the feeling is mutual,” he said with a sad smile. “I am glad to see that she has finally made a true friend in your other companion, but in the end, you are the one who will be standing by her side.”


  Ling Qi restrained herself from looking around nervously. She was reminded that this man was an apprentice of Cai Shenhua. Was this some kind of test? “I am glad to serve Lady Cai. She has been very generous to me.”


  “Not precisely what I mean.” Lin Hai struck a thoughtful pose, cupping his chin with his clawed hand. “Let me share a secret then, so that you might share yours.” He leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “It was I who was charged with Lady Ren’s safety as an infant, and I who fended off those who sought to extinguish the Cai in the crib. I watched her first steps and her first words, and I watched as my master, great though she is, erred terribly in introducing that bright girl into her presence for the first time at such a young age when she could not hope to withstand her mother’s attention and inspection.”


  The man’s cheerful and irreverent tone had faded very quickly, becoming quite grim by the end. Ling Qi only felt her nerves grow; she remembered the terrible radiance of the Duchess’ gaze and the weight of her presence. Something like that wasn’t something she wanted to know.

  “Young lady, my master knows my thoughts quite well,” Lin Hai reassured her. “It is not as if I could keep them from her. My master is merciless, but it is not dissent that she punishes. So, understand, when I ask you what you think of Lady Ren, it is as a fond uncle whose niece no longer trusts him for his part in certain events.”


  Ling Qi calmed herself, forcing herself to forget the Duchess for the moment. This was not the time for courtly prevarication. “She is someone who I trust, and I believe in the path she wants to walk,” she answered after a long pause. “I don’t know how to approach her any further though.”


  “Understandable,” Lin Hai sighed, absently gesturing to the swarm of jewelry swimming overhead. Three silvery reflective discs darted out to circle around his fingers. “Still, I must ask you, please try. Whatever she might say of herself, she remains a girl like any other. The damage is done, but it is not something which Master can fix.”


  Ling Qi remembered the fear she had sensed from her liege when her mother had announced that they would be spending the evening together. “You make it sound like she wants to fix it,” Ling Qi said warily.

  Lin Hai paused in his inspection of the discs. “Perhaps. Master does not know regret in the way that you or I might. She does not and cannot hold back; her nature does not allow it. And so, a child has the full weight of her expectations carved into her bones before she can even comprehend such concepts fully. But Master does recognize the need for support: Diao Linqin, Wang Jun, Jia Hong. Without them, Master could not have accomplished her coup.”


  “Then why the impossible tasks?” Ling Qi asked in frustration, thinking of her own concerns over Sect rank and Gan Guangli’s seemingly untenable task.

  “Because mediocrity cannot be abided,” Lin Hai answered. “Master does not seek to hurt, but she will do so without hesitation if she judges it to be beneficial.”


  “How do you speak so fondly of her then?” Ling Qi asked, troubled.

  “There is no grand reason,” he said self-deprecatingly. “Only that, without her, I would still be a sullen and mediocre lady of the court amounting to nothing. It is quite a selfish reason, but as you said of Lady Ren…… I believe in her.”


  Ling Qi lapsed into silence as his attention turned back to making her talisman. She glanced over to Cai Renxiang once again and thought on Lin Hai’s request.