Breathing out, Ling Qi focused her attention on the verdant green qi which encased her body like a layer of bark. The vibrant energies seemed to hum under her control, ready to burst out, to bloom and grow. However, Ling Qi maintained her concentration, and the wavering shell of green slowly grew thicker and darker, gaining depth and texture. At her feet, Zhengui chirped in delight, toddling around as streamers of vital qi spread across his shell as well.

  To advance her understanding of the Thousand Ring Fortress Art, she needed to master its next technique, the Hundred Ring Armament, which meant improving her control of the Ten Ring Defense technique. The Hundred Ring Armament was a physical technique which would infuse her flesh with vitality and resilience rather than simply calling up a barrier as Ten Ring Defense did. Naturally, she wanted to perfect her control of the wood qi before she attempted something like that.

  She could not afford to just sit here all day and meditate though. So, with the sun peeking over the horizon, Ling Qi dismissed the technique, letting the verdant armor fade away into motes of light. She had a job to do, not just to satisfy Cai Renxiang, but for herself. This Yan Renshu was going to learn why attempting to frame her was a poor idea. Ling Qi reached down and scooped up Zhengui as she stood. It was time to gather some information.

  The first step was to remain subtle. If it became known she was poking around after Yan Renshu, it would be easier to avoid her, so Ling Qi took the time to disguise herself and keep her movements and questions discreet. She had grown rusty at such things over the past few months, but she still had the skill.

  Yan Renshu was a young man three years her elder from a prosperous mortal family in the Heavenly Peaks province, the seat of the capital. However, following his first year when he had an unfortunate encounter with a disciple from a powerful family, he became a secretive sort, rarely appearing in public and instead, acting through intermediaries and sticking to his boltholes. Despite that, in the last year and a half, he had built a respectable following. Although not well liked by most of his peers, the older Outer Sect disciples regarded him as useful, and those in his employ were quite loyal by all accounts. His talents apparently lay in formations and earth and wood arts.

  A few of his lairs were known, but the locations Cai gave her proved empty. All that remained were the chambers themselves, dug into the earth of the mountain with some art or another. Every known lair was trapped heavily, despite being stripped bare. Once, she nearly ended up buried under a collapsing roof, saved only by her movement art.

  She moved more carefully after that.

  Unfortunately, actually searching for leads on his other lairs proved difficult. Those openly associated with Yan Renshu or with Sun Liling had vanished into the wilderness in the aftermath of the recent chaos, and her own skill at tracking proved insufficient to dig them out of whatever hole they have chosen to hide in. There were rumors of Sun Liling being sighted lurking around at the base of the south side of the mountain, but beyond a single mutilated and exsanguinated spirit beast, she found no further signs of the girl or her minions.

  As days passed without gaining any solid lead, Ling Qi decided to back off for the moment. She could not afford to stop getting stronger, and she would probably need to get further help for this task. Perhaps Su Ling would be willing? Even without her new art, Su Ling was a far better tracker than her, and Ling Qi had at least narrowed down the potential locations with her initial searches.

  With the recent improvement of her music under Ruan Shen’s instruction, Ling Qi thought she had a lead on an opportunity. Every child in the Empire knew stories of men and women learning great and powerful secrets at the foot of mighty spirits, and had she not received just such an offer during the Moonfill mission? It would be dangerous, but from what she had gathered, the icy spirit of the peak that she had encountered was a very powerful fourth grade spirit.

  If this failed, she still had the trial Fu Xiang had revealed to her to fall back on. However, after playing detective for most of the week, she felt more inclined to take the option that meant getting away to play some music. So, at dawn, she began to climb past the temperate lower reaches of the mountain and up the snowy peak. There was no driving storm today, just the frigid chill of high altitude.

  It occurred to Ling Qi that she did not actually know where to find the ice spirit, but she had a plan for that. Finding the stretch of mountain she had explored before was not difficult, and from there, she simply climbed, higher and higher, seeking the coldest cliffs with the best acoustics.

  It was a bit of a gamble, but she felt it was her best bet for attracting the spirit’s attention. Once she found a good, high cliff face from which sound carried well, she cleared the surface of a boulder of snow and sat down to play.

  The first haunting notes of Forgotten Vale Melody rang out, the notes heavy with the weight of her qi as she let her mist flow from the flute sluggishly, spilling down from her flute into her lap and splashing across the snowy ground at her feet before slowly rising to consume everything around her. Ling Qi closed her eyes as she played, slipping into a more meditative state.

  Images of the lonely vale deep in the mountains flowed through her thoughts, a panorama of stark beauty and loneliness. She wasn’t sure exactly how long she played, although it was long enough for her to go through every measure of the melody several times, but eventually, something changed. It was a chill breeze at first, then a gust carrying snowflakes with it.

  Ling Qi opened her eyes as she felt frigid qi at the edge of her senses, and the wind picked up further, stirring her mist and spilling it over the edge of the cliff. Her song was interrupted when darkness erupted from the stone beside her, billowing upward and expanding. Instinct took over, and a knife flew into her hands as Ling Qi dove to the side and whipped the blade at the apparition. It passed through pale and perfect features without a mark and clattered against the rock.

  Hanyi’s mother watched her with a raised eyebrow from where she now sat upon the rock beside her, her loose, empty sleeves resting on her lap. Ling Qi swore she saw a twinkle of amusement in those empty white eyes. Ling Qi narrowed her eyes at the powerful ice spirit. She knew that expression. It seemed Hanyi’s personality had not emerged from nowhere.

  “Please do not startle me like that,” she said as she straightened up, dusting the snow from her mantle.

  “I was expected, and this is my home,” the spirit rebuked, showing no further sign of any amusement. “You are, if anything, the one in the wrong, Disciple.”


  “My apologies, spirit of the mountain,” Ling Qi said immediately, not wishing to provoke the powerful spirit. “You recall me then? I am Ling Qi, and I have come in the hopes that I might learn from you.”


  “I recall,” the spirit replied, tilting her head slightly to the side as the hem of her gown billowed in the breeze, revealing the emptiness beneath. “You have improved,” she allowed, turning her head to observe the slowly dissipating mist. “You are fortunate that I found myself lacking burdens upon my time this night.”


  “Fortune is another talent,” Ling Qi said lightly, bowing respectfully. “Might I know what I may call you, honored spirit?”


  The ice spirit considered her, shimmering silver hair fluttering in the phantom breeze that surrounded her. “You may call me Zeqing. It is as good a name as any,” she mused, eyes tracking upward to the bright full moon in the clear and starry sky.

  Silence reigned between them before Ling Qi pushed on. “Lady Zeqing,” she began with uncertainty. “May I have your instruction?”


  “You may,” the spirit replied, crimson lips quirking upward. “Sit,” she said, gesturing to the stone beside her where Ling Qi had previously been seated.

  Ling Qi eyed the spirit warily, but ultimately, there was no reason to hesitate. She bowed her head again and sat down as instructed. Her elbow brushed against the spirit’s dark gown and burned from the cold, even through layers of cloth.

  “I have made some alterations to the melody since we last met,” Ling Qi ventured. “Were they pleasing to the ear?”


  “Your new melody still holds to the beauty of the original,” the spirit answered in a voice that echoed like a cold wind. “I suspect you hold one of that man’s earlier attempts. That you came upon a number of the later improvements yourself speaks of your skill.”


  “You knew the melody’s writer then?” Ling Qi asked curiously.

  “Thrice I came for him, and thrice I was rebuffed,” Zeqing explained. “I was quite cross at the time,” she continued with quiet amusement. “Still, I watched some portion of the journey that produced that melody in the days before greed brought the fury of the Windriders upon this place.”


  Ling Qi furrowed her brows in thought. The Cloud tribes had invaded the province half a millennium ago. “Will you help me improve the melody then?”


  “I may. It is a pleasant enough way to pass an evening since that daughter of mine is with her father for the night,” the spirit said. As the wind picked up, there was a crackling sound, and Zeqing’s sleeves billowed, revealing perfectly formed hands of pure and clear ice where once there had been nothing. The hands held a flute of similar make. “Play with me for a time. If you keep up well enough, I shall help.”


  It was relaxing, and more than that, fun to try and keep up with the near impossibly precise melody Zeqing played. It was a beautiful song, but it took all of Ling Qi’s acquired skill to keep up and not fumble any of the notes as she echoed the ice spirit. She continued to play even as her arm and side began to grow cold and numb with proximity to the frozen beauty until she flushed the feeling with a rush of qi.

  They played one song and then another together as the night rolled past until at last, Zeqing was satisfied. The spirit rose from the stone and gestured for her to follow as the last notes faded, and Ling Qi did so, relieved that she had passed the difficult test. Hanyi’s mother lead her higher on the mountain through deep and winding ravines until they came upon a dead end shadowed by a high cliff overhead. It was cold here, far colder than outside, and not a single patch of stone was not covered in a layer of slick ice.

  At the far rear end of the ravine lay a frozen black pool, mirror smooth and umarred. Powerful Qi radiated from it, and looking down, Ling Qi felt that she might stare into its depths forever if she were not careful. A haunting son seemed to rise from its limitless depths, and only by steeling her will could she pull her eyes away.

  It was here that they began to work on her melody. Ling Qi demonstrated her first halting efforts at the next measure she sought to master while Zeqing offered correction. But the later measures of the melody were complex, and even with the potent qi of the pool bolstering her efforts and the spirit’s instruction, she was far from mastery.

  Yet she felt the time spent worth it. Zeqing’s instruction differed from the slip in places, but Ling Qi could instinctively tell that the insights offered were improvements, corrections of the rough edges she was just beginning to perceive within the art. She knew that if she continued to take lessons from the spirit, she would receive greater results than if she continued to practice the melody on their own.

  In the end though, the spirit’s time was limited, as was hers. They parted ways amicably enough, and Zeqing warned that she would only be available to work with her every other week. Still, it was a boon, and Ling Qi was thankful.

  Threads 97 Contemplation 2

  With Sixiang’s instruction and her ability to better tap into the flow of the qi at the Silent Stones, her refinements of the Phantasmagoria of Lunar Revelry art came easily to Ling Qi. The ways in which she had been weaving the flows of qi had been subtly wrong in ways that now seemed obvious, and correcting them was merely a matter of practice.

  She could, using the techniques of the art as a guide, briefly step completely outside of the physical realm, and sometimes even do so with guests, but for now at least, doing so without the art acting as a crutch remained beyond her. She thought that she might just need to grow more acclimated to using the art.

  Ling Qi couldn’t say she minded the practice though. Sixiang was a good teacher, particularly when she was on the cusp of unreality and she could feel their phantom hands on hers, guiding the steps.

  She still preferred composing, but dance had its own charms as a relaxation method.

  Chaperoning Hanyi through the sect shops was a significantly more stressful measure. The girl wanted to touch everything. Thankfully, with Cai Renxiang’s silent presence to keep the shopkeepers calm and Meizhen’s help, she managed to wrangle the spirit’s excitement without causing any trouble.

  The first task was getting Hanyi to hold still for the dressmaker and guide her away from anything too outrageous. That concern, at least, proved unnecessary. Hanyi had a rather conservative taste in dresses. The one she chose in the end was an elegant white dress with a midnight blue underlayer and swirling embroidery patterns that spoke of wind and clouds. It had a full length hem, a closed collar, and wide, flowing sleeves that covered her hands.

  Unfortunately, no amount of cajoling could convince Hanyi of the utility of shoes but with the length of the pale nightgown, she wasn’t flashing her feet and ankles about everywhere anymore.

  Selecting a talisman was actually harder, not only because they had used most of the funds provided on the gown, but also because Hanyi seemed to actually want Ling Qi’s input there. Without Xiulan, she was a little lost in that realm. In the end, together, they decided on a small teardrop-shaped white jade locket on a silver chain that would hold a portrait in it.

  It was embarrassing to sit with Hanyi in her lap while an artist did a miniature portrait to complete the Argent Remembrance Locket, but Hanyi insisted, and Ling Qi would have felt terrible if she refused in the face of that expression. She didn’t miss the way that Meizhen had covered her mouth with her hand and looked at her with laughing eyes afterward either!

  All in all, it was practically a relief to start working on the setup for Cai’s party.

  ***

  Or at least it had been.

  “Good evening,” Ling Qi said.

  “Fair eve to you,” Xuan Shi said somberly. Ling Qi had been taking a moment’s breather from performing when he approached her near the refreshment table. Xuan Shi looked much the same as he had when she had seen him last, although he appeared to have gotten new robes. His dark green, shell-patterned robe was rather bulky, speaking of many layers or perhaps even armored padding. Xuan Shi didn’t quite seem as energetic as he had been at the start of the year.

  Ling Qi glanced away, uncomfortable. It wasn’t like she blamed him for taking her to a place that had turned out to be…… inappropriate. He had been just as horrified as her, but things remained awkward after. She couldn’t really bring herself to approach the boy again over the course of the last few months. She had told herself it was fine, that they were both giving each other space, and while that was true in some ways, she also knew that she was afraid and that she had been letting that fear guide her.

  Sixiang encouraged.

  Ling Qi took a sip of her drink to break up the staring contest and put on a smile. “It’s been awhile, Sir Xuan. Has your cultivation been going well?” There. A nice safe topic. No need for awkwardness there!

  “As the tide advances, so do I,” he said evenly. Xuan Shi was sitting firmly at the threshold stage, as expected of a ducal scion. His physical cultivation felt a little unsteady; he must have just recently broken through. “Miss Ling’s rise belies the advancing storm still, I see.”


  She took a second to decipher that and then nodded, smiling. “Sir Xuan is too kind. And your talisman work?”


  “Steady,” he said after a moment. “Miss Ling……” he began, trailing off awkwardly.

  She stared back, not quite sure what to say either. Sixiang sighed.

  “I’m sorry.”


  “This one apologizes.”


  They spoke in unison over each other, leaving them both blinking in befuddlement. Ling Qi took a deep breath, wrapped herself in the Carefree Mantle, and pushed on.

  “I should not have avoided you these past months,” she said, bowing her head in apology. “It was both rude and unkind.”


  Xuan Shi looked mildly alarmed under his hat and high collar, raising his hand to hastily wave off her apology. “Nay, Miss Ling’s reluctance is wholly reasonable given past circumstances.”


  “Nothing happened which deserved any ire,” Ling Qi disagreed firmly. “You did nothing wrong, even if the situation was somewhat embarrassing.” She was glad for the ducal grade screening technique she could sense around them, as impenetrable as a xuan wu’s shell. This conversation could be taken in such wrong ways.

  He looked like he wanted to disagree, but eventually, he shook his head and bowed back, lower than was strictly proper given their respective positions. “This one is relieved by Miss Ling’s forgiveness. This one imagined many paths which might have arisen from that day, but the result has been deeply regrettable.”


  “I agree,” Ling Qi replied. “I hope we can be more friendly in the future and put this behind us.”


  She couldn’t quite read his expression with his hat in the way and the rock solid polish of his social arts, but he seemed conflicted at hearing that. “Yes,” he finally agreed as he straightened up.

  “Good. I hope you have been enjoying the party then?” Ling Qi asked, relieved that this problem at least didn’t require much solving.

  “Always,” Xuan Shi agreed. “Lady Cai and Miss Ling’s gatherings are a bright day in the midst of the storm season.”


  Was he actually still nursing something for Cai Renxiang? She didn’t think so. He was just being a bit over the top with his compliments then.

  “This one has greatly enjoyed observing the evolution of Miss Ling’s composition,” he continued, only to shake his head. “But that is not the purpose of my approach.”


  “Oh? What is?” Ling Qi asked.

  “Given Miss Ling’s forgiveness, it feels as if these words might be mere wasted air, but this one wished to inform you that the expedition below will count him among their number and that Miss Ling could rest her mind at ease that this one would behave appropriately.”


  Ling Qi blinked, then blinked again as she parsed his statements. Xuan Shi was going to be going below as well. “I am reassured to have someone so skilled along. Is the Xuan clan truly allowing this though?”


  He chuckled. “This one is not nearly as important as Miss Ling assumes. But the Xuan clan requires knowledge, and this one is in position to provide.”


  Ling Qi digested that information. If she had to guess, the Xuan clan were probably getting an information sharing deal with the Sect to investigate these creatures. But in the end, that was all above her head. “I suppose I can take it easy then. It’s not like anyone is going to get through your defense.” She felt a lot better about Su Ling’s presence in the group now.

  He tugged at his collar, embarrassed by the praise. “This one will endeavor not to disappoint.”


  “Big Sis! Big Sis! It’s time to get back on stage!”


  Ling Qi looked up as Hanyi ran over, weaving between disciples. Ling Qi had been reluctant to let Hanyi be on her own, but the spirit had promised good behavior yesterday. There hadn’t been any angry shouts yet, so she assumed it was holding.

  “Is it that time already?” Ling Qi asked. Looking up, she saw that the poet who had been filling her off time was stepping down. “Please excuse me, Xuan Shi.”


  He bowed again, and she stepped past.

  Mounting the stage with Hanyi at her side, she rubbed her fingers along the length of her flute in thought, scanning the crowd for potential conversations to pay particular attention to. Smiling politely, she began to play her first piece.

  ***

  Ling Qi’s eyes remained demurely half-closed as she played her latest composition, and beside her, Hanyi sang. Drifting on the sound of song, her senses carried throughout the room, showing her dozens of faces and letting her hear dozens of voices. Some faces and voices were garbled beyond recognition by effects with as much variance as there were people.

  Like this, she absorbed the gossip of the Emerald Seas, as understood by the disciples of the Argent Peak Sect. Many spoke of war and battle, bantering about who would win the most glory. In some, it was mere posturing, but in others, she saw and heard a genuine resolve. However, the one thing which all had in common was confidence. While there was a very personal fear of injury or death, not one person showed any fear that the Empire would lose to the barbarians.

  Ling Qi heard the Duchess’ name whispered in fearful reverence, whispers of soldiers being organized across the province and clan musters being raised and drilled by men and women with white-plumed helms, as well as harsh punishments levied against those who had been found to have allowed their defenses to grow lax. There was something of a divide in the room between those who spoke of such things with pride and admiration and the ones who seemed disturbed and apprehensive at their peers’ easy acceptance of the intrusion of ducal authority on their clan affairs. The former outnumbered the latter, so far as Ling Qi could tell.

  But even as she quietly catalogued who was saying what in the back of her head, Ling Qi could not help but focus on more familiar faces. Her liege was speaking with Sun Liling, who had shown up again for the first time in months. Neither girl appeared in any way upset. Meizhen stared up at Meng De with an icy expression, the two of them trading clipped but “polite” barbs in some kind of passive-aggressive standoff. But she didn’t focus her gaze on either of those. There was little she could do regarding Sun Liling, and Bai Meizhen could take care of herself. And if any of it concerned her, Cai Renxiang or Meizhen would just tell her later.

  Her attention was drawn to a pair she was less familiar with and the subtly growing space around them. Through the flowing notes of her song, she had felt a distortion growing around the tall, lanky girl that Meizhen had taken such an interest in and the frowning scion of the Luo clan. A big part of the reason it drew her attention was the simple fact that she could actually hear parts of their conversation. When she had first passed her attention over them, she had heard only the baying of hounds, but after an angry vibration, she felt like a curtain had been torn. Considering that Bao Qingling and Luo Zhong were both levels above her in cultivation, that was an oddity in and of itself.

  “.…… are being childish, Bao Qingling.” Luo’s voice was low and harsh, but he had barely finished his sentence before he glanced to the side, seemingly aware that his words could now be overheard.

  “I’m not sure why you think your opinion should matter to me,” Bao Qingling replied dully. Her grip on her wine cup was white-knuckled, and she looked like she was contemplating throwing her drink in Luo Zhong’s face. “It is not my fault you are choosing to be naive.”


  “It is not naivety! I have tried to explain this,” he said irritably. “I had thought you had decided to be reasonable by making a showing at this gathering, but as usual, you refuse to listen!” There was a sort of tugging at the qi around them, and his voice warbled at the end, distorted.

  “I came to show my support for the Cai and the war effort, not to engage in your stupid games, Luo Zhong. It was you who approached me,” she retorted flatly. “I have no interest in you. I have told Father this. Go away.”


  He frowned, eyeing her reproachfully. “It is not as if I care for you either. But that is no reason why we……”


  Unfortunately, the damage to his technique was repaired, and Ling Qi could hear no more as the sound of baying dogs began to reassert itself. Their conversation only went on for a few more moments before Bao Qingling spun on her heel and marched away while he was in mid word, leaving the Luo scion looking intensely frustrated.