Still frustrated, Ling Qi threw herself further into training, determined to take full advantage of the mass of medicinal energy still burning in her meridians. She took breaks only to study with Suyin and to venture out on explorations with Han Jian and his group.

  After her surprise tribulation from Zeqing, Ling Qi found the bite of her phantoms more real and the propagation of the entrapping darkness qi of no longer required the use of a separate technique, the effect having merged with Mist of the Vale. With a twist of the tune, she could narrow the drain of the Starlight Elegy technique to focus on a single target, trapping them in the Despair of the Lost as Zeqing did to her.

  On the other hand, the first breath of the art she had stolen from Yan Renshu’s base, Abyssal Exhalation, came grudgingly. Although she was well practiced with dark qi by now, the cloying mix that rose from the meeting of darkness and earth did not come naturally. The hungering, corrosive violet mist of the Breath of Stygian Depth had certain things in common with her Mist of the Vale, but channeling and patterning her exhaled qi into the slimy forms of tomb worms was less pleasant. It was, however, quite potent.

  Meizhen found her new art somewhat distasteful, but she could not argue with the efficacy of it. However, the girl was remarkably quick to annihilate the slimy constructs Ling Qi summoned before they could touch her. Ling Qi considered taking the time to talk with her friend about Cai’s offer and her other troubles, but the girl was busy with her own cultivation. Besides, Ling Qi wanted to get her thoughts in order before presenting them to her friend.

  As the week wore on, Ling Qi continued to work hard. Still brimming with energy, she saw no reason to refuse a request from Gu Xiulan to help the girl with her own training. They hadn’t exactly had time for heart-to-hearts while out with the others after all.

  Ling Qi winced as she gazed at the wreckage of the training field and the merrily burning, bright blue fires scattered around the target area. They were, even now, greedily devouring the grass and leaving behind patches of suspiciously shiny dirt. She watched Xiulan’s spirit happily frolic in a steadily shrinking patch, streaks of blue traveling up its wispy limbs as it drank in the fire.

  To her right was Zhengui, who she had let out to play while they trained, and well……

  “Big Sis, look!” the little tortoise chirped from the nearest patch of fire as he puffed out his cheeks and breathed out a cloud of sparkling, multi-colored ash, apparently fueled by the unusual nature of the fires.

  “How pretty,” she complimented him with a slightly stiff expression. “Thank you for helping put out the fires, Zhengui.” She was answered with a happy chirp and a hiss as he went back to ‘work’. That done, she turned back to Xiulan.

  The other girl sat cross legged on a patch of dirt, her chest rising and falling with a careful breathing exercise. Her cloth of gold veil fluttered with each breath, concealing the scowl Ling Qi could tell she wore underneath due to her scrunched up brows and narrowed eyes.

  “It should not be this difficult to extinguish fires,” her friend hissed, frustrated. “It is a child’s exercise!”


  “A child can’t make fires that do that,” Ling Qi pointed out dryly, indicating a patch of literally melted sand in the target range and the curls of flame burning in place without apparent fuel. “I think you can be excused for needing to work at it a little.”


  Gu Xiulan gave her a dirty look but didn’t immediately reply, instead glaring at the nearest pile of burning kindling that was once a reinforced target. The flames flickered in time with her breathing. They dimmed, but a moment later, they flared back to life, actinic sparks erupting.

  “It makes no sense,” she growled. “They are extensions of my qi! They shouldn’t have a life of their own like this.” This time, she closed her eyes, and heat distortions appeared in the air around her. The flames Xiulan was focusing on collapsed, crushed before they could spark further.

  “See, you can still do it,” Ling Qi encouraged, walking over to sit down beside her. “And you can’t say that it isn’t worth it. I can’t really afford to try and block your attacks as it is.”


  Xiulan huffed as she opened her eyes, focusing on the next fire. “As enjoyable as it is to revel in the power, I doubt the Sect will be pleased with having a training ground burnt down every other day.”


  “I doubt they’ll care,” Ling Qi responded. “What’s a little landscaping compared to a powerful disciple?” That seemed to mollify Xiulan.

  “I suppose,” she replied, and Ling Qi saw her fingers clench on her knees as she glared at the fire, forcing it to shrink bit by bit. “Hmph. You must think me lazy, to complain about work like this.”


  “The clean up is never the fun part,” Ling Qi said wryly. “My arts aren’t the kind to leave a mess, but if they were, I doubt I’d have much fun with that step.”


  “Big Sis, I found a pretty!” She looked down to find a proud looking Zhengui trundling over, a clump of warped sand that glittered in the late afternoon light. He dropped it at her feet, his serpent head looking away even as his little green eyes gleamed up at her, excited for her approval.

  “How lovely,” Xiulan said, a touch of amusement entering her voice despite her strained expression.

  Ling Qi merely glanced at her before picking up the bead and examining it with a serious expression. It was pretty in a rough way, especially with the spark of azure fire that still glittered at its core.

  “Thank you, Zhengui,” she replied with dignity, patting the little reptile on the head. “It’s very pretty. I love it.” Practically radiating pleasure, he trundled off again, Zhen wagging behind him.

  “Such a devoted child,” Gu Xiulan said. “You should be proud.”


  Ling Qi huffed at the touch of sarcasm in her voice. “He is,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with being a little childish.”


  “I suppose not,” Xiulan mused. “You would not find many cultivators willing to spend so much time on a spirit without even beginning combat training though.”


  “I can worry about that when he hits reaches second realm,” Ling Qi replied. “There’s nothing wrong with letting him play for now.”


  “What a strange attitude,” Xiulan said, her stress seeming to ease as she leaned back. The last of the fires was under control now, being consumed by Linghuo. “I would have thought you would drive him as hard as you drive yourself.”


  “That’s different,” Ling Qi said absently, watching Zhen bristle as her spirit confronted Xiulan’s spirit over the last sparks. “Anyway, what do you say – want to head to the market? I think we both deserve a treat for working hard since our little gluttons have already had theirs.”


  “Of all the things you could learn from me, you pick up my sweet tooth,” Xiulan laughed, moving to stand. “Fine. Let’s be off.”


  Ling QI was glad her friend had worked out her tension for the moment. If offering Xiulan a time to relax herself was all she could do, she would do it gladly.

  Such diversions could not last long though, and soon, Ling Qi had to return to training. The last several days spent in Elder Jiao’s company had been stressful as she continued stubbornly cultivating Sable Crescent Step. Locked in a dream state, she found herself forced to solve more and more complex puzzles of three-dimensional movement and manual dexterity with ever harsher requirements of time and precision.

  It was enough to push her understanding to the next step and reach the state of being ‘one with shadow’ for a short time. In that state, she could move from shadow to shadow as if she had no body, hidden in the darkness cast by a person or object. Having mastered it, she was able to further understand the Sable Crescent Step art, and she was sure that no one could track her through mundane means anymore. What she had in her jade slip was a fragment- or more precisely, it was only the beginning of a chain. One step lay beyond her in the slip still, but even that was only the completion of the first true stage of mastery.

  It was with that thought in mind that she left the dream, trembling with mental exhaustion. As sensation returned to her real body, she found her head lying on something soft, rather than the floor, as was usual when awakening. Ling Qi dragged her eyes open, staring upward blearily and found a face swimming into focus above her own.

  Xin was above her, silver painted lips curved up in an easy smile as she hummed to herself, and Ling Qi felt the spirit’s cold fingers brushing through her hair. She stiffened immediately, discomfort flooding her thoughts, made all the worse by Zeqing’s actions earlier this week. If she had been helpless before a grade four spirit, how much weaker was she in the face of a prism?

  “Awake already? How impressive,” Xin said lightly, peering down at her. “Ah, I see. You’ve completed the lesson then?”


  “I – Uh – I have,” Ling Qi replied nervously, her skin prickling at the feeling of the hands on her scalp. The inability to even feel Xin’s qi was hardly a comfort. “Could you…… Can I get up please?”


  “Ah, of course,” Xin replied, sounding disappointed as Ling Qi hurriedly sat up. “My apologies. I did not know it would bother you so.”


  “It’s not your fault,” Ling Qi replied quickly even as she hurried to arrange herself into a properly seated position across from Xin. A glance around the room revealed no sign of Elder Jiao.

  Xin hummed, and her eyes flickered silver. In that moment, Ling Qi felt as if Xin was looking through her, rather than at her. “I see. You had been thinking of us as if we were humans.”


  Ling Qi recoiled. Had the spirit just looked straight into her mind or something?! She forced herself to relax. “You act like it,” she accused. “Then she goes and tosses me into a lethal blizzard. I thought……”


  “She wasn’t being deliberately cruel,” Xin said kindly, resting her hands in her lap, “though [Winter’s Muse/Songstress of Endings/****^%^] has a cruel nature at heart.”


  Ling Qi shuddered. Although her eyes told her that Xin had only said Zeqing’s name by the movement of her lips, what she heard and felt was different. It was meaning, impressed directly into her thoughts, even if most of it remained incomprehensible.

  “To face the slow specter of death by cold, alone and without recourse, is the greatest of inspirations in her eyes. How could she deny you the opportunity?”


  “It…… was,” Ling Qi admitted. She found herself saying, “If she had offered, I probably would have done it anyway.” It was foolish, but she knew herself well enough. “She should have asked.”


  “And that is your nature, that hatred for a lack of choices,” Xin mused. “Well, I will not tell you what to do, but I think you should talk to her. That woman is a lonely one.”


  “I thought you said I shouldn’t treat you like humans,” Ling Qi sulked, crossing her arms.

  “You should not,” Xin said sternly. “You should simply understand where spirits differ. Beasts are easier, for they share your drives. Spirits……” She leaned back, an amused smile on her lips. “Until my Jiao shared his essence with me, I knew not hunger, touch, fear, happiness, or even true desire. I was a mere fragment of the Moon, seeking secrets for their own sake. That woman had so much less time and opportunity to take on human traits.”


  Ling Qi felt uncomfortable with the older woman’s happy, nostalgic tone and ecstatic expression.

  “There is no need to discuss such things with a mere disciple.” Ling Qi startled as Elder Jiao appeared behind his wife, frowning down at her.

  “Oh?” Xin asked playfully, turning her head and resting her cheek in her hand. “You do not want the girl to know how you stained an innocent fairy with your essence and wrought her into your ideal spouse?”


  Ling Qi choked. “Honored Elder, I have completed your lesson,” she said hurriedly, cutting off anything else Xin might say.

  Elder Jiao’s expression was flat and stony as he ignored his giggling wife. “So you have. What will you do with your final few days of training then?”


  “I was hoping,” Ling Qi began, even as she glanced uncomfortably at Xin. “I was hoping you could instruct me on the nature of spirits…… and how to further my understanding of Eight Phase Ceremony.”


  Elder Jiao sighed, even as Xin grinned. “Of course you do,” the man grumbled. “Fine.”


  The ensuing lessons were much less stressful thankfully and were overseen as often by Xin as by the Elder himself, granting her insights into the way spirits behaved even as she refined her ability to take in qi from the night sky. Soon enough, they came to an end, and the prickly Elder bade her goodbye for the last time.

  She had made a…… mostly good impression. Maybe?

  Threads 116-Intermission 6

  Later that evening, Ling Qi was silent as she sat astride Zhengui’s shell, returning with him to the hill given to him by the Sect. Zhengui was quiet as well.

  It was only as they began to mount the steam-pitted hilltop that Ling Qi spoke up. “Are you okay Zhengui? I saw that you had a little conflict.”


  “Dumb Rockhead did not hurt Gui,” he huffed.

  “I, Zhen, could have beaten him, but since he was Sir Avalanche’s friend, I was kind,” Zhen said irritably.

  Ling Qi wasn’t entirely sure of that. Fensui was, like his partner, at the fifth step of the third realm. “Why did he confront you anyway?”


  “Gui thinks…… he said something about the strongest getting the first pick of treats?” Gui said. “Gui thinks that is dumb. There was enough for everyone.”


  “Greedy Rockhead,” Zhen grumbled.

  Ling Qi sighed as she leaped down from Zhengui’s shell, having reached the top of the hill. “I’m sorry that you didn’t get a chance to meet anyone nice.”


  “Um, Little Singer was nice,” Gui said, pawing the ground. “But I did not talk to her much.”


  Ling Qi thought and then realized, “Ah, that sparrow, right?”


  “Yes,” Zhen agreed. “At least there, I, Zhen, was given proper respect.”


  There, conversation petered out. Ling Qi looked down. She hated this awkwardness, this distance that had started to grow between her and Zhengui. Yet she did not know how to check that growth.

  Sixiang muttered.

  “Big Sister, is something wrong?” Zhengui asked.

  “I think there might be quite a few things wrong,” Ling Qi said wryly.

  she simultaneously thought to Sixiang.

  Sixiang murmured, receding from her thoughts.

  “Gui does not understand,” her little brother said, oblivious to the interplay. He gave the impression of frowning.

  Ling Qi closed her eyes. Even now, she really had no idea how to articulate the problem. She would just have to speak and hope for the best.

  “Little Brother, you know that I love you, right?” Ling Qi asked. It was uncomfortable to say something like that so bluntly, but they were alone right now. “I want you to be strong and happy and……”


  She trailed off, not sure what else to say. Distance had come between them, but Ling Qi wasn’t sure of the source.

  Two pairs of eyes stared down at her. “Gui wants to be strong too. Big Sister should not worry……”


  “But I do,” Ling Qi insisted. “Is it the damage from that fungus? Do you still hurt? I do not mind taking you to the medicine hall.”


  “I, Zhen, would like Big Sister to stop that,” Zhen said sulkily.

  “Big Sister always acts like Gui is still tiny. It is not fair. Big Sister does not treat Hanyi like this. Hanyi is allowed to go off on her own, and fall off cliffs, and get in fights, and Big Sister does not treat her like this! Even when Gui helps, Big Sister just gets angry and sad!”


  It was Gui’s vehemence that really brought her up short.

  “Big Sister treats us like Grandmother treats littlest sister,” Zhen hissed. “Zhen is not little anymore, even if Big Sister is stronger.”


  “I know that,” Ling Qi said. “Zhengui, I know you’ve gotten strong, but you can’t expect me to not worry. It’s not like I don’t worry about Hanyi as well, but……”


  “Big Sister shouldn’t lie!” he insisted in a twinned voice. He stamped one of his forefeet in frustration, and the hill shook.

  “It’s……” Ling Qi began, only to trail off. It’s different, she wanted to say. Hanyi was a bit of a troublemaker, but the troubles she got into were minor things, and in a fight, Hanyi was always close to someone who could defend her whereas Zhengui was the defense. He was the one that took hits from the enemy. The one who got hurt. It was different, she wanted to insist.

  But why was it different?

  “If Big Sister wants to be a sister, then she should let Zhengui be a brother,” Gui rumbled. He seemed to have lost the energy to shout, as he had previously.

  Ling Qi flinched. Those words stung because her own treacherous mind wouldn’t let her ignore the implication. It hurt to try, a deep ache that emanated from her core. Balling her hands into fists, Ling Qi had to look away.

  “I never meant it that way,” she said quietly. “It…… It would just be strange for anyone to call me ‘mother,’ you know?”


  “Zhengui does not want to hurt Big Sister, so she is Big Sister,” Zhengui agreed, scuffing at the ground with his foot. “Even if Big Sister cannot trust him to be the brother.”


  “I trust you, “ Ling Qi said.

  “It is easy to say words,” Zhen said glumly.

  Ling Qi closed her eyes. It really was different, she had to admit to herself. She simply didn’t see Hanyi the same way she did Zhengui. Her first impression of that girl was a brat, messing with her on a high mountain pass. Her first impression of Zhengui was…… She remembered seeing his shell split open. He had been tiny and weak and utterly dependent on her in a way that no one had ever been before or since.

  That had changed, and she had changed with it. She had cultivated his strength, made him practice, made him strong. But she could never really shake that initial first impression. The thought of Hanyi getting hurt filled her with cold anger; the thought of Zhengui getting hurt made her feel frighteningly empty in a way that caused the meridians aligned to the Frozen Soul Serenade to thrum with resonance.

  But just as he was no longer tiny and vulnerable, Ling Qi was not the same person she had been last year. “I haven’t always treated you the way you would want, but I do trust you,” Ling Qi insisted. “I could have chosen to help you fight back in the Dream.”


  Sixiang corrected grumpily. Ling Qi ignored them.

  “Big Sister was sleeping,” Zhen said dubiously.

  “I wasn’t,” Ling Qi replied, stepping forward. “Zhengui, I trusted you and Hanyi to protect me.”


  “It was not Zhengui that did most of the protecting,” Zhengui muttered.

  “You didn’t do it by yourself, but I was relying on you all the same,” Ling Qi insisted. “Zhengui, please understand. I am not a very good Big Sister, or…… anything else. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m just…… always afraid of losing things.”


  “Zhen understands that Big Sister is like Miss Zeqing,” the serpent hissed.

  “But Gui will not leave or disappear, no matter how fast Big Sister goes,” Gui finished. “Big Sister should not always act like we will.”


  She knew that, but it was hard to accept. The world was unkind. It didn’t care what she wanted. Sometimes, she lost things and people regardless.

  But that was a lonely thought, and she was tired of loneliness.

  She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before responding. “I’ll try to remember. In turn, can you be patient with me, too?”


  “Gui can try, if Big Sister tries too.”


  “I, Zhen, can agree to this.”


  It hurt that he seemed unsure if she would keep her word, but she couldn’t blame him too much. Her thoughts drifted back to the words that had shaken her, back at the training camp. She just wasn’t sure how to close the gap with Zhengui in a way that respected him as he wished.

  With Hanyi, they could compose together or cultivate their similar arts. It was the same with Sixiang. For Zhengui, there was really only cultivation and combat training. When he had been smaller, they had played hunting games to help supplement his voracious diet, but wasn’t that training also?

  It wasn’t just about what she wanted, was it? If something was going to change, if she was going to keep calling him ‘little brother,’ then they needed to decide on something together.

  “Big Sister is thinking hard,” Gui said, peering down at her. “Gui hopes that she is not planning something silly.”


  She frowned at him. “I was just thinking that it’s a shame that we have not done much together outside of training since your breakthrough.”


  Zhengui was quiet in the wake of her response.

  “I, Zhen, am too big to play hide and bite anymore,” the serpent said. “Training is fine.”


  “I bet we could still manage,” Ling Qi said wistfully. “It would take some doing though.”


  “Gui does not want to give up on making pretty things grow,” the tortoise put in quietly.

  “But if Big Sister wants to play, it should be a game she wants to play too,” they said together.

  Ling Qi closed her eyes, considering. “.……You said before that you wanted a garden. Even if the original idea is gone, I’d like to make something of our own, I think.”


  Gui looked unsure. “But Big Sister doesn’t do growing things.”


  “Maybe not, but I do know how to compose.” Ling Qi proposed, “If I can give you ideas, maybe you can make them real?”


  Her little brother hesitated a moment more, and when he answered, it was as one. “Let’s try.”


  ***

  It was morning, and the sparring field had been restored to a pristine state. The weather was good, and the sun shone brightly on the waving grass.

  “Hoh, the two of you seem to be in good spirits this morn,” said Wang Chao as he met them on the training field.

  Ling Qi smiled politely and offered a shallow bow of greeting. “I had a restful and productive evening,” she replied.

  She and Zhengui had talked for some time about his gardening project. To be frank, while Zhengui had skill at making plants grow, and Ling Qi had some basic theories on composition and color palettes from incidental contact with Sixiang, neither of them had any particular skill in artistic endeavors.

  But that was fine. It was something they could learn together.

  And if after Zhengui went to sleep, Ling Qi began some preparatory cultivation of the social art she was working through this month, then that harmed no one.

  Sixiang .

  “Gui is ready to fight Mister Avalanche.” Gui was enthusiastic, but he still sounded a little drained.

  “Do not think it will be so easy this time!” Zhen announced haughtily.

  “I would not expect it to be!” Wang Chao laughed. “I hope Miss Ling will not be offended if I do not hold back.”


  “Naturally not,” Ling Qi replied, straightening up.

  He was two stages above her. There was a fine line to tread on how to behave. If he held back too much and seemed to struggle, he would look bad, but if he crushed her immediately, then it would seem like bullying. Thankfully, Ling Qi was confident that she could avoid the latter. It was somewhat arrogant to think, but she was quite difficult to put down.

  Even more so with Zhengui bolstering her vitality.

  “Let’s not keep our audience waiting then!” Wang Chao boomed cheerfully, pausing to wave at the watching disciples. “I’ll warn you all to stay well back. I expect this to be quite destructive!”


  Ling Qi glanced detachedly at the other disciples. They were watching eagerly, and it did not even seem malicious for the most part. She was sure that one or two would take some glee in seeing her beaten, but most were simply anticipating a good match.

  “What will be the terms of our match, Sir Wang?” Ling Qi asked.

  “The same as the previous day, I think. You will have your structure to defend, and I will attack it,” Wang Chao proposed. “Does that appeal, Miss Ling?”


  “I think that sounds fair,” Ling Qi said. Practice in getting into that kind of mindset was helpful for the future, even disregarding her need to learn to coordinate with Zhengui.

  “Very well then! Miss Nie, please reinforce the dummy tower while I take up my starting position,” Wang Chao called out to one of the disciples on the sideline before he jogged out to the attacker’s starting position.

  A year ago, she would have figured a one kilometer starting distance absurd for any kind of spar. Now, she knew it would only buy her precious seconds to begin setting up her defense. Ling Qi kept half an eye on the dummy tower as Nie Ai laid hands on it, channeling qi into the piled rock to reinforce its foundations and construction.

  It wouldn’t be able to handle a direct hit, but at least it wouldn’t fall over from the quakes and aftershocks likely to ensue in the spar. The girl doing the work shot her an uneasy smile, and Ling Qi blinked before smiling back. She put the girl out of her mind as she hurried off, and she focused her eyes on the sky where the starting signal would come.

  She didn’t have to wait long. There was a bang, and a shower of sparks lit the sky.