The lessons with Elder Ying proved a stark contrast to the rest of her day. She was not sure when she had become acclimated to having friends and acquaintances around or perhaps it was the echo of Elder Ying’s story, but she did not like being alone again. Meizhen was nowhere to be found, Li Suyin was busy with work, and even Su Ling appeared to be hiding out in seclusion still, going by the sealed entrance to her cave. Gu Xiulan was busy with that business Han Jian had talked about last week as well, which left her with little to do except care for Zhengui and play with him to take her mind off things. She supposed the very loneliness that dogged her helped in a way; she had not felt quite so in sync with the melody of the vale for quite some time.

  There were no great insights this time nor new sections of the song when she mastered the fourth measure of the Forgotten Vale Melody art, just refinement of what she already knew. Peeking ahead at the notes of the fifth measure though, she could tell she was nearing the end of the melody as recorded in the jade slip. The sixth and final measure would require her to break through to the third realm to fully understand and cultivate. Even the fifth would require her to step into late yellow, but she was close enough to that precipice that it didn’t concern her too much.

  By the time she had ended her practice, night had fallen, and Zhengui had fallen asleep for the night. Once she tucked him into the modified kiln shelf and set a low blaze burning, she set off.

  As she left the mountain and traversed into the forest, flitting through the trees, she let her worries and concerns about her friends go for the moment and simply focused on the task ahead. While she couldn’t say she’d ever stolen from spider spirits before, the covert acquisition of items – or harvesting the Dreamspinner webs as the Sect job described it – wasn’t anything new to Ling Qi. It felt liberating to stop worrying about all the complicated problems that had arisen in the past months and get back to something simple.

  The lethargic weight of the curse on her limbs was an irritant, but it was just another minor obstacle. She wouldn’t need to fight after all, and although she could temporarily purge it with Argent Mirror if necessary, she wouldn’t fail like that.

  Even with her speed and stamina, it took awhile to reach the spider nest, but it was obvious when she did. Ahead of her, she could see dozens of towering trees joined together by vast shrouds of glistening white webbing that seemed to sparkle with a multitude of colors, hypnotic in the way they shifted with even the slightest breeze. In fact, she was momentarily entranced by the patterns in the webs before she mastered herself, ejecting the minor influence. She would need to be careful inside; the webbing she was to collect was the finer silk from deeper in the nest, but the effect would be stronger there.

  Ling Qi began by circling the perimeter of the nest, figuring out the best approach. As she skulked through the underbrush near the web-draped branches of the nest, she caught her first sight of the spiders themselves. The smallest were the size of a big man’s hand while the larger ones were the size of dogs, their jittering movements eerie to her eyes at that size. Some clung to the webs, completely still, while others skittered through the branches, spinning and repairing webs or tending to wriggling cocoons of worrying size. Birds and beasts of all kinds lay trapped in the webs. Although she had been provided simple leather gloves stitched with formations to counteract the web’s adhesive to collect the webbing, that wouldn’t help the rest of her.

  After thoroughly scouting the perimeter, Ling Qi began her approach, intending to slip in through a pair of less heavily webbed trees that saw little traffic from the nests inhabitants. She was a little rusty, she thought. Her lack of practice had made her movements a little less sure, but the grace and calm granted by the dark qi in her channels and the moon shining dimly overhead was enough to steady her nerves and keep her from making any mistakes. She slipped between the trees like a shadow, avoiding attention from the spiders skittering and whispering overhead as she ducked and wove her way through the maze-like interior of the nest.

  It was tense, and her heart beat loudly in her ears when she glimpsed a truly massive arachnid, easily the size of a full grown horse, pass above her. Its spearlike legs and wriggling fangs were an unnerving sight, even to someone not particularly afraid of their kind. The fact that its cultivation matched hers didn’t help. Despite the dangers, Ling Qi couldn’t help but grin, feeling a thread of excitement that she had not managed in some time. Her fellow disciples had been far less guarded than this.

  Surrounded by dozens of spirit beasts, she slipped deeper into the nest, focusing hard on avoiding being entranced by the psychedelic colors of the shifting patterns in the webs, ignoring the faces and scenes shifting in the tunnels of webbing around her. Dreamspinner spiders trapped prey in illusions woven of the final, drugged thoughts and dreams of their previous prey; the effect grew stronger with more contact with the web.

  Soon, she reached the inner nest where the webbing grew thicker still, hanging in solid sheets between the branches, each strand as thick as a finger. Ling Qi hardly dared to breathe. The strongest of the dreamspinner spiders would be here so she would need to be quick in filling the bags once she got started.

  Ling Qi’s hands trembled as she began to collect the webbing. It was thick and viscous, resisting the cut of her knife as she gripped it tightly, qi circulating through her fingers to force them into absolute stillness. Minimum size for pieces should be no less than two handspans, she recalled, so she cut quickly but carefully, slipping fluttering sheets into the enchanted bag at her waist before moving on.

  Despite her best efforts, her actions did not go unnoticed. As she hurried to fill the seemingly bottomless bag, she could hear chittering begin to arise around her, the sounds of spiders growing agitated. They had begun to take action against her intrusion. Ling Qi forcibly focused on her task, but she became bolder in her collection of the webbing. The spiders were already aware of her anyway so she might as well harvest greater sheets of silk. She darted away from skittering shadows and began to cut down entire sections of webbing.

  And still, the bag was not full. Just how much was she supposed to collect?!

  She could hear the spiders now, a growing vibration traveling through every web and branch as scores of legs trod the paths of the nest and shadows grew thick. She couldn’t stay hidden forever like this. When a cat-sized spider leapt at her face from a branch above, fangs waving, she had enough. She lashed out with her fist, punching the leaping spider hard enough to reverse its momentum and send it tumbling back into the undergrowth. She seized the web she had been working on and ripped, putting her full strength into the motion and tearing down the entire sheet, a piece of webbing large enough to make a man’s cloak.

  Then she ran, her skin prickling and sparks of color forming in the corners of her eyes from the slow build up of contact with the webbing. She did her best to avoid the aggressive spiders as she hurried to stuff the huge piece of web into the mouth of the bag. Of course, she found that

  it was full and half of the sticky white material flapped from the top of the bag. She summoned her flute to her hand, no longer worried if the web fell out as the ground trembled with the angry sounds of the spider nest. Even as dark qi flooded her limbs, obscuring her passage and allowing her to blink through spaces too small for her to consider before, she prepared to play if necessary.

  The next few minutes were harrowing as she sprinted as fast as she could, the world reduced to a blur around her as she fended off the spiders in her path, quick strikes sending the smaller ones flying even as she tumbled under, leapt over, or otherwise avoided the larger ones. More than once, she used the skittering beasts as stepping stones, her boots coming down on carapace and beady eyes to launch herself through gaps in the webs, black qi trailing behind her limbs.

  By the time she had left the nest behind, her heartbeat thundered in her ears and she was short of breath and qi, heavily drained from constant activation of Sable Crescent Step…… but she had left her pursuers behind.

  Her laughter rang out through the dark forest as she caught her breath. That…… had been a lot of fun despite more than a few close calls. She would have to look into more jobs of this kind.

  Ling Qi returned to the Outer Sect mountain after that, turning in her full bag of Dreamspinner web in trade for a credit of Sect Points to her account for the completed job. By the time she had settled everything and cleaned up from the jaunt, the sun was already rising, and it was time for her next lesson with Elder Ying.

  Threads 82-Parting 2

  “I’m surprised to see that you are still here,” Ling Qi said as the door of the workshop closed behind her.

  Bao Qian let out a good-natured harrumph, adjusting the glass monocle on his eye as he examined a piece of carved jade. “Miss Ling, there’s no call for that sort of accusation.”


  Ling Qi glanced around. It had actually taken her some time to find the Bao scion’s place of residence. Rather than a room at the town’s inn or a rented townhouse, his trail had led her out into the woods where she had found an odd and brightly painted wagon. The inside of the wagon was larger than the outside, though not by a great deal. Despite that, it managed to feel cramped and crowded with the tables strewn with glittering gemstones and jade. Strands and nuggets of precious metals hung from the ceiling like curing herbs. “Sorry, that wasn’t my intent. I just expected your family to withdraw you given the Sect’s new war footing.”


  Bao Qian set down the piece of jade in his hands, laying it on the table where it joined many like it. “Mm, I did receive leave to do so. Cousin Qingling likely received a similar letter. Naturally, I refused.”


  “And why is that?” Ling Qi questioned, drifting through the hanging metal strands without disturbing them. She wasn’t fooled by the seeming thief’s fantasy of wealth strewn about haphazardly and without guard; the wagon’s security formations were clear as half-bared blades to her senses, which made her wonder what else was concealed. She found a clear space on a work table to seat herself on.

  “I would have brought out another seat if you had asked,” he chuckled, and the padded, floating metal disc he was seated upon spun, turning him to face her new seating. “But, to answer your question, I have chosen to make my living on the border, not to mention our hopeful partnership. I can’t imagine you would think well of a coward who would flee at the first sign of violence. The Sect is already making use of my services in the tunnels.”


  Ling Qi raised an eyebrow as she settled into her seat, crossing her ankles and letting her hands rest demurely in her lap. “How much do the Bao know about the things in the caves?”


  “There are caves, and there are

  , Miss Ling,” Bao Qian replied, popping the monocle off to polish the glass on his shirt. “The sort the Sect’s troubles have erupted from are toxic obstacles, and we know them well enough to avoid them like pockets of sun-gas or rotted stone.”


  Ling Qi’s intuition and the lessons from her new arts told her that there was something more there but that it would do no good to pursue it. “So many seem to have at least a little knowledge of the caves. Why aren’t they explored more deeply?”


  “I won’t get into the technical details, unless you wish to hear me prattle on for some time, but you are aware of the impurities that fill those places?” Bao Qian asked, dismissing the talisman in his hand with a flick of his wrist.

  “Yes, it’s toxic, but surely more powerful cultivators can endure,” Ling Qi replied.

  “It is their power that is the problem,” Bao Qian explained. “The impurity grows denser the deeper one goes, and it reacts more violently to great quantities of qi, let alone higher energies. Exploring those depths has long been considered both pointless and fraught. It is only recently that certain craftsmen have begun to find any use for the materials in the caves.”


  Ling Qi wasn’t really satisfied with the explanation, but she wasn’t going to press any further at this juncture. It wasn’t what she was here for anyway. “Well, I guess we’ll find out more soon regardless.”


  “Indeed,” Bao Qian agreed with a frown. “In any case, might I ask after your purpose, Miss Ling? While I do not mind discussing current events, unless I have misjudged you, I do not think you the type to stop by for a chat with me.”


  Ling Qi nodded, not seeing the need to refute him on that. “I was interested in acquiring a recording talisman. You’ve mentioned them before.”


  “I did. I had thought you averse to the idea,” Bao Qian said, a spark of interest in his eyes. “What changed your mind?”


  Ling Qi waved him off. “Nothing. I do not intend to make it a regular thing. I just want to make a recording for a friend who is leaving the Sect.”


  He looked disappointed but swiftly rallied. “Unfortunate, but I can provide. What are your requirements for shape, color, and size?”


  Ling Qi blinked, suddenly on the backfoot. She had assumed that Bao Qian would just have one lying around. “Ah…… White or red…… and a flame shape.” She quickly recovered. “You intend to make it yourself then?”


  “Of course. Best to keep supply lines short if it can be done. Goes as well for armies as it does for crafting.” Bao Qian chuckled. “Hmm, I think I can manage. I have a supply of red and pink pieces I could fit together for a flame motif. The size?”


  “Pendant-sized, maybe?” Ling Qi asked tentatively.

  The young man pursed his lips and closed his eyes, seemingly doing calculations in his head. “I will manage. I’ll need a green stone to cover my material costs.”


  “You’re going to charge me?” Ling Qi asked, bemused.

  Bao Qian opened his eyes, giving her a flat look. “Miss Ling, I am already giving a discount. I wish to be your partner, not a convenient dispensary.”


  “That’s fair,” Ling Qi acknowledged. She chewed her lower lip as she thought. Her supply of green stones was beginning to shrink. She would most likely be fine until the inter-sect tournament, but…… “Here,” she said, flicking a stone to him that had materialized in her hand. “And if you like, we can arrange to meet sometime in the coming month. I will be working with Zhengui, so perhaps we can begin making some arrangements.”


  He caught the stone, rolling it between his fingers. “Very well. I shall need no more than two days. I will send a note when your commission is done.”


  “That’s all I can ask,” Ling Qi replied, dipping her head. “If you will excuse me, I have some cultivation and composing to do.”


  ***

  It had been a fun night.

  Empty bowls, baskets, and cutlery lay strewn across Xiulan’s table. In her bedroom, countless clip ties and ornaments lay scattered around the mirror like forgotten treasure.

  As the sun began to color the horizon, the home was silent. The sounds of merriment had faded and at last, ceased. Ling Qi and Xiulan sat beside one another on the long couch that filled one wall of her front room. The fire in the hearth had burned low, leaving only faint red embers among the ashes.

  In Ling Qi’s hands, she held the last cup of the tea she had brought along, chilled as she had come to enjoy. Beside her, Xiulan held an empty cup which had held a sparkling peach wine. Sixiang, who had been so instrumental in keeping up the mood earlier in the night, had fallen silent, knowing that their time had passed.

  Xiulan idly swirled the dregs of her wine in her cup and let out a sigh, releasing a wisp of steam and sparks from between her lips. “Did you know that when we first met, I had intended to bully you? I found your presence around Han Jian annoying.”


  “I had some idea. It’s one of the reasons I tried so hard to be friendly with you,” Ling Qi said dryly. “What made you change your mind?” She took a small sip of her tea. It was a dark and bitter blend, and she was coming to enjoy it.

  Xiulan smirked self-deprecatingly. “I was impressed, nothing more. That day in the training field, you were afraid, but you faced me anyway. Untrained and clumsy as you were, I almost let you land a blow in my arrogance.”


  “I wasn’t that bad,” Ling Qi grumbled into her tea. “I know that wasn’t it. You kept poking and testing me after that.”


  Xiulan sighed, letting her head hang. “I think I came to appreciate your forthrightness. As you know, I have always tried so very hard to live up to my mother’s lessons.”


  “I know and appreciate it,” Ling Qi replied with a lopsided smile. “After all, thanks to you, I’m not a totally uncivilized little feral girl.”


  Xiulan let out a distinctly unladylike snort of laughter. “Oh, don’t you flatter me. Bai Meizhen would have cleaned you up eventually.”


  “Maybe, but I probably wouldn’t have learned to have some fun with it,” Ling Qi mused. Despite her complaints, some part of her had enjoyed going around the markets with her friends, chatting and eyeing goods. To another part of her, even now, it felt like a terrible waste that her every instinct cried out against. She eyed the thin silver links and tiny bells of the jewelry on her hand. Even if she ignored its value as a talisman, just the materials that composed it could have fed and housed her for weeks, if not months, in Tonghou. “You said ‘tried,’” Ling Qi pointed out, glancing at her friend.

  Xiulan nodded faintly, not raising her head. “I cannot follow all of her lessons. I love my mother dearly, and I love the appreciation for beauty and refinement which she has taught me, but her way of words and masks isn’t mine. I…… I cannot do it.”


  Ling Qi hesitantly placed her hands on Xiulan’s shoulder. The words sounded like they pained Xiulan deeply to say. Ling Qi did not voice her thought that Xiulan had increasingly abandoned that kind of thing from almost the beginning of last year. The Xiulan she knew reveled in violence and battle and found a challenge in every insult and insinuation. She almost said some words of encouragement, empty platitudes about parental understanding, but she didn’t know Ai Xiaoli. “It’s better to know what you can’t do rather than beating yourself up over failing at it,” she said instead. She couldn’t stop or slow down, so there had to be another solution.

  “You don’t have half the wrinkles necessary to go speaking like that,” Xiulan retorted, raising her head.

  “Well, if that’s what I’m going to get for my kindness, I’ll just be silent,” Ling Qi harrumphed, taking a dainty sip from her tea. In her lap, she toyed with a pendant resting in the palm of her hand. She still hadn’t found a good moment, but their time was running out.

  Xiulan was silent, and after several long moments, Ling Qi looked at her out of the corner of her eye. Xiulan was looking out the window at the first hint of the sun’s disc peeking over the misty horizon. Her lips moved, but Ling Qi didn’t hear a word.

  Ling Qi knew better than to press Xiulan. She finished the last of her tea.

  “I will miss you a great deal.” This time, she caught the words, spoken in just barely audible tones.

  Ling Qi’s hand clenched around the pendant. “I will miss you as well. I hope you enjoy getting bombarded with letters.”


  “I’ll make sure to answer every one,” Xiulan chuckled. “I suppose that we really should begin cleaning up……”


  “Xiulan, I have a present for you,” Ling Qi said suddenly. All this dithering and worrying. It really was best just to say things clearly. She had spent too much time learning otherwise. “It might be a little inappropriate given our relationship, but……”


  “Ling Qi, what did you get me?” Xiulan asked, amused. It seemed that her melancholy could not contain her natural instinct to tease.

  “It’s a song,” Ling Qi said, turning over her hand. The pendant that rested there was an intricately carved piece, fitting many small pieces of red and pink jade together into the shape of dancing flames. It was so realistic that it seemed that the tongues of flame might start to move at any moment. It was just what she had asked for.

  However, at the bottom, it darkened, pink becoming red, and then crimson, and at last, black along the bottom edge. She couldn’t blame Bao Qian though. It was her song that had done that. “I composed it for you. Thought you might like to listen to it now and again and be reminded of me,” she said, embarrassed as she toyed with the talisman. Finally, she held out her hand, offering it to Xiulan.

  Xiulan looked at her in surprise, any hint of teasing gone. “I see. I…… thank you, Ling Qi,” she said a touch unsteadily, cradling the gift in her hands. “How do I……?”


  “You just channel a trickle of qi into the carved channels,” Ling Qi said, looking back down.

  She didn’t need to see as the song she had composed began to play. Its tones brought to mind the image of a bright and lively flame, burning merrily on a cold winter’s day. Though the wind blew and the snows fell, the flame burned brighter with every gust. It puffed and danced, facing every challenge with courage. It was bright and beautiful, even when lightning struck and nearly scattered its tinder. Despite everything, the flame never stopped burning, and the flame never guttered low. Though one day, the wind picked it up, carrying it far away, the flame never faltered……

  Ling Qi let out a sharp breath as the song cut off, the qi powering it draining away suddenly, leaving her sitting once more beside Xiulan, who held the pendant in her hand. Xiulan stared down at it with unreadable eyes.

  “Sorry if it’s a little silly and childish,” Ling Qi said, picking at the hems of her sleeves. “I just thought…… you deserve some praise, you know? You’ve accomplished a lot. I believe in you, Xiulan. I’ll look forward to seeing you again.”


  Xiulan didn’t answer at first, but soon, she nodded. “Thank you, Ling Qi,” she said, and her voice almost cracked. “You should go. I will handle cleaning up. It would be rude to ask you to stay as a guest.”


  Ling Qi didn’t point out the inconsistency. Instead, she leaned over and once again embraced Xiulan, and this time, the girl returned it, squeezing her in a one-armed hug.

  This would not be their last goodbye.