Bian Ya was certainly not a bad tutor, and she was friendly enough, even if her spirit beast was not. But her insights were clearly focused on the manipulation of wood qi. To Bian Ya, wind was secondary, combining with wood to form the concept of “dispersal.”


  While Ling Qi could comprehend the older girl’s understanding of the combined element, it was at odds with her more usual understanding. The exercises in maintaining flows of wood qi disconnected from her channels, attached only by threads of wind, were certainly helpful in advancing her understanding of her sole wood art, Thousand Rings Fortress, in improving the range at which she could hold the shielding qi around her allies.

  It was less directly useful in her practice with the Falling Stars art, but eventually, she reached an understanding. Wind, or rather air, was not simply freedom and motion; it was also a thing of connections. Wind lay between earth and heaven and touched all things. An arrow and a target thus already held a connection. With this understanding, she was able to complete the Falling Stars art and master its final technique, the Falling Star Shot, which would allow her to fire a single shot which flew true no matter the obstacles so long as there was a path to her target.

  She parted ways with her tutor on good enough terms, but she couldn’t really say that she had connected to the older girl. She reminded Ling Qi of Xiulan in many ways, and while Xiulan was her friend, that relationship had taken a great deal of work and shared troubles.

  Still, for some things, cultivation had to wait.

  When Ling Qi felt the twinge from the minor alarms she had set around Zhengui’s pyre, set to go off at any unusual fluctuation of qi, she raced out into the garden, the door of the meditation chamber banging off the wall behind her. The pyre had burned down by the time she arrived. No longer a towering bonfire that rose more than two meters in the air, it now guttered low, dull red embers burning atop scraps of wood heaped on a small hill of gray ash, held within the solid fire-baked clay of of the firebreak she had set up around it during construction.

  More importantly, she could feel that her spirit beast’s qi was no longer masked by the qi-infused wood she had used to build and maintain the fire. Ling Qi settled to the ground beside the pit, hands resting on the warm surface of the clay walls as she peered down. Everything she had read indicated that all this was natural, but she couldn’t help but worry.

  Ling Qi was often so busy that it was difficult to think about things outside her many tasks, but she could admit that the niggling worry in the back of her thoughts had never quite gone away. It was rising to the fore, now that a change was occurring in Zhengui’s pyre. The ash from the fire formed a thick blanket of heavy qi, which prevented her from sensing Zhengui in detail. Had he broken through successfully? Could spirit beasts even fail like humans could? Had he changed, while buried down there under the ash?

  The grey hill at the bottom of the pit shifted, and Ling Qi leaned forward, brows drawn together. “Zhengui? Can you hear me?” she called. “Are you ready? Do you need more fuel? I can-”


  The ash exploded outward, and Ling Qi flinched as it enveloped her, stinging her eyes and getting caught in her throat. That surprise left her entire flat-footed as a heavy, stonelike mass smashed through the clay wall and bowled her over.

  ‘
’ A deeper but still recognizable voice rumbled in her ear as the heavy weight settled on top of her, pinning her legs in place. ‘


  ‘
A more sibilant voice spoke from further back. ‘


  Ling Qi had been worried for nothing. Zhengui hadn’t changed at all, even if she would have to have a talk with Gui again; she was definitely no mother. Cool qi flooded her limbs, and Ling Qi flowed out of confinement, growing solid again as she crouched in front of her no longer little spirit, a smile on her face. “Little Brother, you’ve been asleep for too long,” she scolded playfully.

  Gui blinked his big emerald eyes at her. He was now more than two meters long, and half that across. The blocky dull-edged spikes of his shell rose high enough to reach the bottom of her chest from standing height. He still pushed his blunt, scaly head up against her hand in the same way when she rested it on his head.

  ‘
Gui chirped, though it couldn’t really be called that anymore. ‘


  Zhen rose from his resting place on Gui’s back to nuzzle at her cheek with his warm snout, lines of light burning between his scales. ‘
’ his serpentine half bragged. He too had grown much. Now, over two meters of serpentine body extended from the rear of Gui’s shell, making Zhen longer than his lower half, if much smaller overall.

  ‘
Gui accused from below. ‘
’


  ‘
Zhen hissed, drawing away from her to glare down at his other half. ‘


  “Settle down,” Ling Qi intervened, tapping Zhen on the snout. “I’m just glad that you’re back. You’ve gotten so much bigger now. I won’t be able to carry you anymore.”


  ‘
’ Gui caught Zhen’s eye and corrected himself. ‘


  Ling Qi let the slip pass, her grin not fading as she leaned down to wrap her arms around Gui’s stubby neck, and Zhen hurried to pile on, coiling around her shoulders. “I bet you can. We’ll definitely have to try it out.”


  Ling Qi could admit to herself that she took a certain pleasure in the expressions of her fellow disciples as she rode out of the residential district on Zhengui’s back. Being blatant was fun sometimes. Even if it was a really uncomfortable and awkward seat. Thankfully, Zhengui kept it slow, and she didn’t fall off. That would have been embarrassing.

  Zhengui’s presence in spiritual form was much like a warm blanket constantly wrapped around her shoulders. She would never be caught wholly alone again, and that thought was comforting. It did make her realize that Meizhen had been present less and less often of late to the extent that she had begun to miss their training sessions.

  That was a little worrying, particularly since the girl had not made any excuse for it. Her friend could be incredibly frustrating at times by taking reticence to the extremes that she did. Bai Meizhen did stop at their home at least once a day though, late at night. So after spending the day ranging about with Zhengui and working out the final kinks in her cultivation of Thousand Rings Fortress, Ling Qi returned home and settled in to wait in the front room while Zhengui went to nap in the garden.

  Ling Qi prepared tea for Meizhen and herself. It had been awhile since they’d taken a cup together, and she’d come to appreciate it more after spending so much time around Cai Renxiang in the last few weeks. She had guessed the time correctly because Meizhen arrived home just as she poured the first cup.

  Ling Qi took her first sip as she heard the door close and heard Meizhen’s faint, even footsteps on the wooden floor of the entry hall. As Meizhen stepped into view, Cui coiled loosely around her shoulders, Ling Qi met her eyes. “Welcome home. Do you think you’d like a cup?”


  Bai Meizhen paused, her brows slightly furrowed as she regarded Ling Qi. “I suppose,” she replied, even as Cui flicked her tongue dismissively and looked away. “What brings you to the house at this hour?” she asked as she stepped into the dining room and settled herself elegantly across from Ling Qi. “You are usually out taking in moonlight.”


  This was cutting into her meditation time, Ling Qi knew, but she could afford it. She was nearing the point where further cultivation was stalled until her breakthrough anyway. She carefully poured a cup and pushed it toward Meizhen before answering. “Even I take breaks now and again,” she said lightly. “I thought it would be nice to brew a pot of this again. It’s been awhile.”


  Meizhen leaned forward to take the cup from her, taking care to avoid brushing her fingers over Ling Qi’s. In a moment of relative expressiveness, Meizhen closed her eyes and inhaled deeply from the steam rising over the cup, some of the tension melting from her shoulders. “It has. But I recall that you used to find the flavor rather repulsive.”


  “It grew on me,” Ling Qi said with a shrug. “Maybe my taste improved?”


  “Likely enough. You have the senses to appreciate the flavor now,” Meizhen acknowledged.

  Ling Qi made a sound of agreement, eyeing her friend over the rim of her cup as she sipped. “What has made you so busy? I don’t mind if you need some time to yourself, but I admit, I’d like to know why. Sun Liling is probably hurting for a victory. Going off by yourself can be dangerous.”


  Meizhen favored her with a flat look.

  Ling Qi waved off her nonverbal response. “I hide while I’m out and about. She only caught up to me that last time because I was being incautious and that ass Yan Renshu was tailing me. You don’t exactly disguise your presence anywhere you go.”


  “It would be beneath me to do so,” Meizhen said with a frown. “Skulking is best left to the lesser branches of the family.” Ling Qi simply nodded, not taking offense, since she knew the girl didn’t mean any. “If the barbarian wishes to confront me on my travels, she may. I will meet her with my full force.”


  “I know you will.” Ling Qi smiled. “But all the same, she’s been getting trickier. I wouldn’t put it past her to jump you with her whole faction at this point.”


  “What is left of it, perhaps,” Bai Meizhen scoffed as Cui dipped her head down, stealing a taste of the tea as she had done when she was smaller. “I do see your point. Trusting in the honor of a Sun is foolish. I suppose I imagined that she would have more pride than that.”


  “Maybe she does. What have you been doing that’s so important? Did you find a really good site to cultivate at?”


  Meizhen looked away, seemingly hesitant to answer. Ling Qi regarded her friend patiently. She would drop it if the other girl asked her to, but until then, she was going to ask.

  “I have been taking steps to eliminate the threat that Yan Renshu represents. The efforts you have put forth alongside Lady Cai have been impressive, but his threat remains,” the pale girl answered after consideration. “I may be overstepping my bounds to an extent, but if you are too softhearted to do so yourself, as your friend, I feel I must do so.”


  Ling Qi blinked. That wasn’t quite the answer she expected, but there was something weird about Meizhen’s phrasing. “I don’t mind, but I’m not sure what you mean by ‘overstepping your bounds.’ You can beat up whoever you want, can’t you?”


  “He is your prey,” Meizhen expanded, staring at her as if she had said something dumb. “You took it upon yourself to ruin him. I do not understand why you stopped – and I apologize if you had some longer plan – but you cannot leave an enemy half-defeated like that. I had assumed you to simply be squeamish about finishing things……”


  “He’s already about as neutralized as he can get, isn’t he? What is there left to do?” Ling Qi asked.

  Meizhen studied her. “Ling Qi, who do you imagine would retaliate if that boy were crushed entirely? Death may be a step too far here in the Sect, but he still retains the resources to do harm.”


  “I thought that I had after breaking his last base. Do you know something more?”


  Cui flicked her tongue disdainfully at her, and Meizhen sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “.…… I have located his primary remaining lairs, a storage facility and a residence. In the past week, I have foiled no less than three attempts to set an ambush upon you. Would you like to come along, so that I may show you the proper treatment of an enemy without sufficient connections?”


  Ling Qi frowned. She was no moral paragon herself, but she had an inkling that Meizhen was not kind outside of their friendship. Meizhen’s offer sounded…… ominous.

  Threads 142 Spear 1

  The Cai force’s arrival was marked by a plume of rising dust, visible from kilometers away. The northern road was cleared of traffic, commerce and civilian traffic alike coming to a halt as the cleared fields north of White Cloud Town were made ready to receive visitors.

  Sect Head Yuan He waited at the entrance of the town. His flowing storm gray robe snapped and flapped in the blowing breeze. His intricately bound beard and naturally spiked white hair crackled with static, and the gnarled wooden cane clasped in his hands thrummed with power.

  Far away in the sky, the kilometers-long coils of a dragon churned among the storm clouds, and a rumbling that was not thunder could be heard from the black depths of the storm where twin blue-white lights burned at attention.

  Behind Sect Head Yuan was a small, gathered force of the Sect, eclectic in make-up but all core disciples. The disciples stood at attention, a multitude of weapons held on shoulders or sheathed at hips, the only commonality among them the silver sigil of the sect on their armor.

  It took a great effort of will for Ling Qi not to shift uncomfortably. She and Cai Renxiang stood off to one side. They were not with the Sect’s forces because right now, they were not acting as disciples, but as the representatives of the Cai.

  Likewise, Bai Meizhen stood a step behind them, standing perfectly still with an imperious expression. As of right now, she, too, was representing her clan, if only because the Bai had not yet deigned to send a full representative to observe the military operations.

  Ling Qi felt the earth shaking under her feet from the pounding of hooves. She felt the wind disturbed by the passage of many bodies.

  The vanguard of the Cai force emerged from around the bend in the northern road. The horses were armored in plated barding, hung with tassels of gold and white. Behind the lead horseman fluttered a banner of pure white splashed with the official sigil of the Cai, a crimson butterfly emerging from a shattered cocoon with prominent golden eyespots on its wings.

  The rest of the force came behind. Each soldier bore armor of overlapping bands of flexible steel, enamelled in white. The soldiers in the frontmost ranks bore halberds with crimson tassels and golden blades while the ones who came behind bore a saber at their hip and on their back, an immense thing that looked like the halfway point between a crossbow and a siege engine. In the rearmost ranks were more halberdiers mingled with men and women who bore no obvious arms but who wore crossed bandoliers lined with dozens of pouches.

  There were one hundred of them. Eighty third realms varying from green appraisal to threshold in power were accompanied by eighteen fourth realm lieutenants, bearing a second white plume on their helms. Two fifth realms rode among them as well, commanders distinguished only by the crimson cloaks on their shoulders and their aura of power.

  At the center of the formation rode General Xia Ren herself. Armored in a gold enamelled plate, her faceless silver helm flashed under the light of the crackling clouds, and the spread wings of a heron marked her breastplate. The wind parted around the general and her warhorse as if cloven by a blade and not a drop of moisture or a speck of mud touched any part of the woman or her mount.

  Sixiang whispered, shivering.

  Ling Qi kept her expression even. She did see the eerie synchronicity of the Cai force’s movement. It wasn’t just discipline. Each soldier and each horse moved perfectly in sync with their fellow soldiers and mounts, and in her more spiritual senses, Ling Qi could not see anything individual about their auras. They felt like a single entity, a machine of gleaming clockwork whose ticking heart was the General.

  They felt unnatural to her senses, so recently attuned to the flows of Dream.

  The White Plumes flowed into the space left for them, hooves that glinted metallically churning the dirt. As one, they dismounted and formed perfect ranks without a single shouted word from the officers or visible signal. Their armor gleamed and crackled with nascent power.

  Cai Renxiang had told her the difference between a regular soldier of the Cai and a member of the elite White Plumes was that each one of the thousand soldiers that comprised the White Plumes bore equipment, arms, and armor crafted by the Duchess herself.

  General Xia Ren stepped forward from the ranks to face Sect Head Yuan. “I come, commanded to render aid in the name of her grace.” Xia Ren’s voice was cold and dry, her words clipped and utterly without affectation or ornament, more mechanical than Renxiang had ever been at her worst. “I offer my full cooperation with your leadership, Sect Head Yuan of the Argent Peak Sect.”


  Sixiang noted.

  For a moment, the air crackled with tension, and not a few core disciples subtly bristled. However, Sect Head Yuan He tapped his cane on the ground. “I, Yuan He, do accept my liege’s aid gratefully. Be welcome, General Xia of Xiangmen.”


  Xia Ren nodded sharply and swept off her helm. Her face bore similarities to Alingge’s in general shape and structure, but her scalp was bare, bearing only a slight layer of dark fuzz, and her features were hard and scarred. A thick line of scar tissue extended from her right temple down to the left side of her chin, an ugly scar marked the flesh around her left eye, almost as if an arrow had been ripped out there, and a pair of faded geometric tattoos marked the general’s cheeks, reminiscent of the old tribe tattoos Ling Qi had seen. But Xia Ren’s eyes were both intact, the color of liquid steel and solid without a pupil or iris.

  The intimidating woman gave a short bow at the waist. “Sect Head Yuan is wise. Where are we to be quartered?”


  “Space has been prepared on the Argent Peak,” Sect Head Yuan replied, naming the centermost peak of the Sect where elders and their chosen core disciples lived. “My disciples will stable your steeds. I will show you the way. Do you require time for other business first?”


  Ling Qi saw the way the old man glanced in their direction.

  Xia Ren tilted her head, her steel gaze falling upon them. “If the Sect Head allows. A simulacrum will be sufficient.”


  “By all means, General,” Sect Head Yuan said. “Allow me to show you the way then.”


  Ling Qi felt the air in front of them carved apart, and the earth in front of Cai Renxiang split open. Before her eyes an exact copy of the general stepped out as if from a portal in the air. There was a brief shimmer of steel qi across her form, and to Ling Qi’s senses, the woman before her felt hollow like a structure of spun glass, filled with air.

  She bowed low all the same.

  “Young Mistress, Lady Bai,” General Xia greeted shortly. “Your continued good health is pleasing.”


  “It lightens my concerns that my gracious mother has assigned you to the southern border, General,” Cai Renxiang said.

  “It pleases the Bai to know that our allies are handling their affairs with rigor and competence,” Meizhen said, bowing as well. “My aunt apologizes for the lack of a more experienced observer.”


  “The Emerald Seas can stand on its own feet,” the General said flatly. “But our ally’s concern is appreciated.”


  Bai Meizhen raised her head. “The Bai offer our full confidence in your endeavors.”


  The older woman’s eyes moved back to Renxiang, who stood patiently, waiting for the General to finish. “Young Mistress, Her Grace has words which I am to convey to you in private.”


  Cai Renxiang’s eyes widened marginally. “Very well, General. Is this regarding the task which faces us?”


  “Partially,” Xia Ren replied. The woman raised her right hand from her side. “Sergeant Xia Lin!”


  Ling Qi felt the rush of displaced air that accompanied a swiftly moving cultivator as she partially raised her head. She saw a young woman standing behind and to the left of the General. Xia Lin looked to be about the same age as Ling Qi with similar cultivation. She appeared to be one of the halberdiers of the army, the weapon on her back gleaming in the dim sunlight. Her helm was under her arm, revealing a girl who looked somewhat like a younger Xia Ren. Her dark, curly brown hair was shorn at her ears rather than wholly shaved however, and her scars much less severe. There were only a few thin white lines across her cheeks and lips. Her eyes were a natural storm grey with only a few steely sparks.

  “Sergeant Xia Lin will be your adjutant,” the General said brusquely. “Her Grace has determined that excessive cultivation and preconceptions would be counter-productive to your task. The sergeant is the best of my soldiers in the Young Mistress’ generation.”


  “It is my honor to serve the heiress of Cai,” Xia Lin said, striking her breastplate with her fist as she bowed low. “I will not fail to meet your expectations.”


  “I am certain that General Xia’s recommendation is a good one,” Cai Renxiang said.

  Ling Qi thought that she saw the younger Xia’s expression briefly become happy. It was odd given that she still couldn’t feel anything from her.

  “There is the matter of the request you made of the Duchess, however,” Xia Ren continued, not missing a beat. Ling Qi shot Cai Renxiang a look, wondering what she was talking about. “However, Her Grace’s reply is to be delivered in private.”


  Cai Renxiang looked briefly concerned, but then dipped her head. “I see. In that case, Baroness Ling, would you accompany the sergeant? It would be best for us to familiarize ourselves with one another.”


  “Of course, Lady Cai,” Ling Qi replied reflexively.

  “If it pleases, I may stay as well,” Bai Meizhen said smoothly. “It is good for the Bai to continue familiarizing ourselves with our allies.”


  General Xia gave a short nod. “Practical. Sergeant, familiarize yourself with the local situation and mission parameters. If you would, Young Mistress?” she asked, extending her hand.

  Cai Renxiang took the general’s hand, and they were gone.

  Ling Qi stared at Xia Lin, who stood at attention before her, studying Ling Qi just as Ling Qi studied her.

  “Please follow me then, and I will show you the lay of the land,” Ling Qi said cheerfully, clapping her hands. She paused. “Should I refer to you by rank, or would you prefer a civilian honorific?”


  Xia Lin tilted her head to the side. Her tone was polite without the clipped edge that the elder Xia had. “Protocol is a little unclear, is it not? You may call me ‘Miss Xia.’ Do you require your rank to be stated, Baroness?”


  “No, no, Miss Ling will be fine,” Ling Qi said before glancing over to Meizhen.

  “Miss Bai will be fine for me as well,” Meizhen said, inclining her head. “I have no great status in the clan after all.”


  “So humble. Miss Bai’s modesty is impressive,” Xia Lin said with a touch of a smile.

  The three of them set off from the area outside of town where the White Plumes had arrived and entered the town. Traffic was still low due to the presence of so many powerful cultivators.

  “So, what do you already know of our mission, Miss Xia?” Ling Qi asked as they passed down the main street.

  “We are to open talks and secure a ceasefire with an unknown foreign group,” Xia Lin replied crisply. She walked tall and straight with her hands at her side. There was a faint hint of confident swagger in her steps, but nothing untoward. “Opening further diplomatic channels is the secondary priority.”


  “That seems mostly accurate.” Ling Qi watched her closely.

  Sixiang whispered in her head.

  “Am I missing some part in my summary?” Xia Lin asked politely.

  “No, not really, only that we are attempting to establish understanding via shared ancestral connection,” Ling Qi said.

  “Yes, Miss Ling’s mentor,” Xia Lin said. “I am sorry. I did not think the pretext was relevant to the strategic assessment.”


  Ling Qi mulled over the words. She wasn’t quite sure how she should take that……

  “The method used to establish rapport is important,” Meizhen said, walking with her hands clasped behind her back.

  “Miss Bai is correct,” Xia Lin agreed, lowering her eyes briefly. “The rhetoric a diplomat chooses is as important as a warrior’s choice of arms and armor. I am not a diplomat though. My role is to ensure that the Young Mistress and Miss Ling reach their destination safely. My assessment was based upon my role in the group.”


  “That’s fair,” Ling Qi said. “In any case, I was curious. Is General Xia your mother? I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to study all of the province’s lineages yet.”


  Xia Lin’s lips twitched, and she raised her hand to cover her mouth. It almost looked like she was going to laugh. “No, the General is not my mother. By blood, she is my great-aunt.”


  “You seemed to find the question amusing.” Bai Meizhen raised an eyebrow.

  The three of them strolled past the town gates, starting on the winding road into the sect lands.

  “It is absurd to imagine the General as a mother,” Xia Ren explained.

  “Really?” Ling Qi asked. “Even Her Grace has children. It doesn’t seem too absurd to me.”


  “You are unfamiliar with the General. Her Grace is much more suited to motherhood than the General,” Xia Lin said, conviction strong in her voice.

  Ling Qi had to stop herself from staring. She remembered the pressure of the Duchess’ attention and the pitiless scouring radiance of her eyes. She wanted to object to those words, but the certainty in Xia Lin’s eyes stopped her.

  “My apologies for the rude question,” Ling Qi said instead.

  “No, it is a valid concern. Nepotism is a significant issue still,” Xia Lin said, seeming unoffended. She was also misinterpreting Ling Qi’s intent. “The General does not favor her kin. I am the only member of the Xia’s youngest generation to meet her expectations thus far.”


  “I have no reason to believe you are unqualified, at least no more than I am,” Ling Qi said easily.

  “Miss Ling is humble as well, I see,” Xia Lin said in amusement.

  “I try.” Ling Qi shrugged.

  “She really does,” Meizhen said dryly.

  Sixiang muttered.

  Ling Qi glanced toward Xia Lin at Sixiang’s words. The steel aura that shrouded Xia Lin seemed to have little gaps through which flickers of feeling showed through. Was it a social defense art then? It felt more intrinsic than that, but it was good to know that her first impression had been in error.

  “So, Miss Xia, is there anything in particular which would interest you on the sect grounds?”