When she returned to the meditation room the next day, it was with a refreshed body and mind, despite a slight nervous feeling from when she overheard some of the girls in the residential district talking about a strange spirit wandering around asking strange questions. It seemed like some people were thinking it was some odd test from the Elders, like a wandering trial…… Sixiang wouldn’t cause

  much trouble. Hopefully.

  She let that worry go as she sealed the meditation chamber and sat down, ready to finish her breakthrough.

  This time, there was no recoil, only the smooth melding of her qi with her body and a feeling of lightness as if she had just taken off a dress that was three sizes too small. When she opened her eyes, she found herself caked in impurity of course, a stinking mess of black gunk that needed to be scrubbed from her skin with the cloth and water she had prepared for just that.

  If her second realm breakthrough had left her unblemished, this one had simply made her…… more. Looking at herself in the mirror, it was hard to pin down exact changes. Her skin remained just as dusky as ever, and she remained tall and thin without much in the way of feminine charm. Yet her eyes burned an icy blue like chips of glacial rime, and she thought her features looked a little more mature, stripped of their last vestiges of childish softness.

  Her hair, wet from washing and mostly unstyled, was still wild and curly, but it no longer seemed quite so frayed or frizzy. Instead, her hair seemed sleek and dark, drinking in the dim light of the meditation room and reflecting nothing despite now hanging down to the middle of her back. In fact, as she toyed with the ends of her bangs, did it seem a little blue-ish? It was more of a midnight blue than Suyin’s lighter shade. With rising suspicion, she began to cycle her qi, letting cool darkness flow through her meridians and sure enough, she caught faint twinkling sparkles like dim stars in her hair……

  She wasn’t sure if that was embarrassing or cool.

  Some part of her lamented the fact that she still wasn’t really beautiful, but at least she could now qualify for striking? She had even gained another centimeter or two in height.

  Shaking her head, Ling Qi turned away from the mirror and began to get dressed. That was enough vanity for the moment. She had still lost another day to breakthrough, and she had a few errands to run before Meizhen invited her out for their discussion.

  ***

  “Congratulations,” Han Jian said lightly as she landed lightly in the training field he and Han Fang had been sparring in. He had spotted her coming from above well before she arrived, and the two boys had broken off their fight to greet her. “A full breakthrough to the third realm in less than a year isn’t anything to scoff at.”


  “Thank you,” Ling Qi replied, glad to see that her invitations to Xiulan to go with her to the White Room hadn’t strained relations with the rest of Golden Field. “It looks like you’re doing very well too,” she added politely. He and Han Fang were both fully in the late stage of the second realm now.

  “Ha! I’m not so sure about that.” Han Jian shook his head. He glanced over at Han Fang, who nodded back once before heading for the entrance to the training yard. Ling Qi watched him go for a moment. She had never gotten to know the silent boy, and she regretted that a little. He seemed like a reliable sort. “I honestly don’t see myself breaking through before time runs out, so I’ve decided to more fully develop my arts.”


  “Breaking through is definitely time consuming,” Ling Qi said with a grimace. “I feel like I’ve hardly done anything for the past month.”


  Han Jian gave her a wry look, and she glanced away, embarrassed. Complaining about spending a month in breakthrough seemed really petty.

  “You might want to prepare yourself for the future then. There are bottlenecks in the third realm that will take you months to break through, unless you’ve been hiding a legendary talent to match the Duchess Cai,” he said in a light tone.

  “Fun,” Ling Qi deadpanned. “I guess the easy part is over, huh?”


  “Probably best to think of it that way,” Han Jian agreed. “Third realm is the highest the vast majority of cultivators can aspire to, even among the talented.”


  “Neither of us is going to stop there though, are we?” Ling Qi asked. “Not you, or Han Fang, or Gu Xiulan,” she added thoughtfully. “No one I know really.” Su Ling and Li Suyin might not be as talented, but she doubted either would simply stop either. “Is the third realm really where people stop?”


  “The higher you rise, the more time cultivation takes, and people have other responsibilities and interests,” Han Jian explained, heading toward the edge of the field. “Not everyone has the ambition and dedication to keep pushing through years or decades of tiny gains. Besides, most people don’t really need higher cultivation.”


  Ling Qi struggled to imagine simply…… settling, knowing that there was still such a vast gulf between yourself and the top, so many people and things which could still trample you effortlessly. “Well, less competition is good, I guess,” she said after a moment. “Anyway, I thought I’d ask about how you all are doing.”


  “Xiulan hasn’t exactly been sociable,” he said sadly. “She’s at least being safe about her training now, but she is pushing hard. Thanks for taking her to the White Room by the way. I can’t really do so without a lot of…… awkwardness.”


  “I understand,” Ling Qi replied with a nod. “But I’m not just concerned about Xiulan.”


  “Kind of you,” he shot back as he plucked a wooden training sword from the rack and gestured for her to follow him out into the field. “Fang and I aren’t giving up. Even if we don’t reach the third realm, we’re still aiming for Inner Sect at the New Year Tournament,” he continued resolutely. “.…… I worry about Fan Yu though. He……”


  “He probably feels like it’s hopeless,” Ling Qi finished.

  “Yeah,” Han Jian said simply. “Yu is a good guy at heart, but I’m worried he’s going to crash and burn. I’m trying to keep his spirits up, but there’s only so much I can do if he doesn’t want it himself.”


  So about what she expected then. Han Jian and Han Fang would both be solidly late second realm, perhaps even peak, but Fan Yu was still struggling to reach the middle last she saw. Xiulan had been at peak spiritual the last she saw her, and her physical cultivation had just reached late.

  “There was actually something else. We can spar and talk though, if you’d like.”


  “Sure, what’s the question?” Han Jian asked, giving the practice blade in his hand a few lazy swipes, the wind stirring around him.

  Ling Qi, on the other hand, fell into a defensive stance, calling up the qi of Argent Mirror’s mountain and lake to center herself. “I was hoping you could tell me more about Golden Fields. I have an offer regarding it.”


  Han Jian studied her, brows furrowed, examining her with more than his eyes. She in turn felt carefully for the fluctuations in his qi as his limbs blurred under tight sleeves of swirling air. “Ah, you’re actually considering it? Given your other connections, I’m a little surprised.”


  “I want to know all that I can about every choice I have,” Ling Qi answered.

  “Well, it’s not like I mind talking about home,” he said, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

  So, as they began testing one another’s defenses, Han Jian began to speak.

  The Golden Fields was a land of patchworks. The territories of the clans were far less organic and similarly, far less competitive. Few major clans shared a border with another, although that was beginning to change in the westernmost lands, which had begun to regain their old character as fertile fields. Most of the habitable land was still scrub and desert so the traditions born in the wake of the fall were still maintained.

  Most clans fell into one of two categories: sedentary or nomadic. The Fan, for example, were a sedentary clan because during the fall, their patriarch had pulled their core lands deep underground and shielded it from the Purifying Sun’s death with his body. Although they had been much reduced, the Fan maintained a rich, flowering oasis from which to rebuild.

  On the other hand, the Han and the ruling ducal clan, the Guo, were nomadic. The Han household traveled regularly along a fixed route through their territory in a great caravan, administering their smaller but more numerous settlements.

  Ling Qi was a little dubious about his description of the ducal clan. Even with all she had seen, a great citadel carried on the back of a colossal scorpion seemed a little far-fetched.

  That aside though, Han Jian made no effort to conceal the fact that the Golden Fields was a harsh place. The further east one went, the more toxic and poisonous the lands outside a clan’s territory became. The earth itself was tainted with sun and death qi. Cultivators below the third realm who ventured out unprotected into the poison sands could quickly sicken and die, their meridians catching fire and their flesh rotting from their bones. Even higher cultivators could grow ill without regular cleansing. It took great effort from the clans to maintain their borders and prevent the poison from spreading back into cleansed lands, which was why actual expansion was a generational affair.

  Still, Golden Fields was a rich land. The same effect which had reduced the soil to ash had created great veins of qi-rich ores and gemstones in the stone, and these days, such ores and gemstones were in high demand in the interior provinces, being useful for all manner of high-end formation work and talisman crafting. Quite a few clans which were only a few generations old had grown influential and wealthy off such finds under the aegis of the greater clans.

  Such wealth was sorely needed for defenses because the desert was not content to simply passively poison the land. Ashwalkers – she remembered hearing about several times before – were foul, dead things born from the toxic qi of the sands. They were little more dangerous than normal predatory spirit beasts in small numbers, but they had to be promptly cleansed from any land they were discovered in. If they weren’t, they would gather in numbers out in the wastes, rallied by their more intelligent kin, skeletal abominations animated by the wrathful wraiths of those who had died in the fall, driven mad by the toxic qi.

  At their worst, these mobs could be akin to ancient Imperial armies sweeping out of the waste, but that was rare. More often, they behaved more like bandits, roving bands of murderous marauders that sought to break the land-cleansing totems and destroy settlements.

  It was unsettling, Ling Qi had to admit, but the more she learned about the world outside Tonghou, the more she came to understand that there was no safety on any of the borders of the Empire.

  Threads 157 Past 3

  Together, they descended into the unnatural darkness of the stairwell.

  Together, they found more confounding effects. There were places where the space of the stairwell warped, turning back on itself in a recursive loop. There were other places where the fabric of this space thinned, threatening to drop intruders into bubbles of corrosive not-reality or spill the stuff into the ring itself. And yet other places sang softly in their minds, showing visions of riches and secrets uncounted.

  Between her instinct and Meng Dan’s sight, they traversed safely. Illusions were revealed as the pale shadows they were. Ling Qi found the thread of a path that snaked through recursive space, and Meng Dan’s fluttering paper talismans sealed the planned rifts that sought to spill corroding dreamstuff into the ring’s internals.

  During the descent, the four of them did not speak overmuch, their focus squarely placed on traversing the stairs, but when at last they reached the foot of the stairs, the silence was broken.

  Sixiang whistled long and low at the glittering hoard before them.

  Despite herself, Ling Qi felt her eyes widen as she beheld it all. Piled almost waist-high through a space some forty meters across were treasures. Jewelry, gemstones, statuary, paintings, and tapestries and other treasures were strewn haphazardly across the stone floor, as if they had been thrown carelessly into a pile with great haste.

  But like above, the most prevalent thing down here was books. Shelves of polished wood, still gleaming and near reflective, stood crookedly throughout the chamber, filled with books, and other books lay on the ground or rested haphazardly on piles of goods.

  She didn’t think it was an illusion this time. She glanced at Meng Dan and saw his eyes were narrowed, strings of shining qi crawling across the lenses of his glasses. Carefully, she sent her wisps bobbing out, not touching any of the treasures within as they began to search the piles.

  “What do you think? The real thing?”


  “It seems so,” he said slowly. “We must be careful though. I sense great instability in this space. I would not step on the tile in front of you.”


  Ling Qi paused and traced her eyes over the painfully rich contents of the ring, feeling the flows of the dreamstuff that made up the structure itself. The weave of it was thin here like a technique half-dispelled. Carefully, she stretched her foot out and pressed it against the stone tile just in front of them. Rock dissolved under the slight pressure, falling away into a hole that led to a kaleidoscope of shifting formless color.

  “Very unstable,” she agreed.

  One of her wisps passed over a gaping rent into the floor, and she watched as a jeweled hairpin teetering on the crumbling edge fell, dissolving like mist in the sea of dream.

  “Our entry into this space has sped up the rate of corrosion,” Yinhui said calmly, peering out from behind Meng Dan. Both of her hands were clasped around one of his.

  Sixiang’s lips were pressed together in a thin line. “It’s too much to stabilize, but I can probably give you guys more time. Gonna be tuckered out after holding it together though.”


  Ling Qi nodded sharply. “Do it. Meng Dan, do you think the upper part of the ring is going to crumble too? Is this another trap or just age?”


  “I suspect both given previous obstacles. A ring of this calibre should not be breaking down after a mere few centuries. The security functions have broken though. How shoddy,” he criticized. “Yinhui?”


  “Overall integrity should remain for one year and thirty seven days,” the small spirit replied.

  “Long enough then. It is a good thing that we have cleared the stairwell’s defenses. I suggest we begin moving as much of the treasures as we are able,” Meng Dan said. “Have your scouts noted anything of particular value, Miss Ling?”


  Ling Qi’s vision flickered through multiple viewpoints at once. “Yes, there is……”


  Ling Qi trailed off as she saw a great tapestry as long and thick as the trunk of a tree, vibrant with qi. On the floor near the tapestry was a small chest, slips of white jade glittering within. All around it were shelves holding thick volumes. One title in particular caught her eye. It was .

  “I believe I see some very valuable books along the right wall,” Ling Qi said faintly.

  “How valuable?” Meng Dan asked, raising an eyebrow as he considered the shelves already before them with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

  “How valuable would you rate a completed genealogy of the Weilu?” Ling Qi asked.

  Beside her, Meng Dan stilled. He didn’t blink, or adjust his glasses, or even draw another breath for a long moment. Then the moment broke, and the perpetually smiling young man licked his lips nervously. “We should hurry, I think.”


  “We should,” Ling Qi agreed.

  “On it.” Sixiang’s laughed, their physical form dispersed into a cloud of glittering mist, and the chamber groaned as stone settled, solidified, and became more real.

  Ling Qi sprang off, following the curve of the left wall. Even with her mobility limited, she could still move quickly, her feet barely touching stone as she scanned the floor for weak points. Behind her, Meng Dan followed, Yinhui clinging to the back of his robe. His movement technique was interesting. She saw characters and numbers in the shadows and wind around him, flickering with silver, and then he would take a step and simply move, crossing meters of distance in a blur.

  He followed after her in a zigzagging path that wove through the weakened parts of the floor, never seeming to do more than take individual small steps. Yet she could feel the wind parting around him as he moved, so it wasn’t like her own quick shadow stepping.

  It only took a matter of moments to circle the room to where she had seen the books and the oversized tapestry, and all the while, her wisps zoomed over the room, noting things that looked of special value.

  “Miss Ling,” Meng Dan said as she alighted beside the shelf. “Do I have your permission to access your divinatory constructs?”


  “Is that something you can do?” Ling Qi asked.

  “Of course,” he chuckled. “It is much easier if you do not resist.”


  “That sounds very suspicious.” Yinhui sighed.

  It did, but they were in a hurry. “I will try not to throw off your technique, so go ahead. But why?”


  If he tried anything untoward, they were literally sitting beside Cai Renxiang, who would, no doubt, notice.

  “It will enable me to catalogue all of this and calculate the most optimal gathering……” Meng Dan began cheerfully, only to trail off. It took her a moment to realize that he had come into sight of the books and their titles.

  For just a moment, she saw the excitement of a child whose parents had just given them a free run of a sweet shop.

  “Sir Meng?” she inquired politely. It would be rude to comment.

  He shook himself. “Yes, of course. Please allow me a moment, Miss Ling.”


  Meng Dan brought his hands together in front of his face, traceries of silver light gleaming on his fingernails and from beneath his half-closed eyelids. Ling Qi felt an odd sort of tingling through the meridians which powered her divination techniques. It felt a bit like when Sixiang would actively peer through her eyes.

  This technique was insidious. If she hadn’t been prepared and waiting for it, she felt like she could have easily missed it. A dangerous skill, but one that made sense for a technique from the Hidden Moon.

  Ling Qi reached down to pluck the book which had caught her eye from the shelf. It was a massive thing, as thick as one of Renxiang’s unabridged legal codes, and was bound in supple green leather with its title inked in shimmering characters that flowed from silver to gold and back.

  Ling Qi moved to open it and take a peek at the pages inside, only for the cover to resist her. She frowned and tried to simply flip it open to the middle, but the pages stayed as they were as if she were holding a stone sculpture of a book. In her arms, the tremendous tome let out something like a whispery growl, like a cat who had just had its fur rubbed the wrong way.

  “Do be careful, Miss Ling,” Meng Dan said anxiously. She was a little startled when he snatched the book right out of her hands. Meng Dan didn’t look at her at all; instead, he was preoccupied with running his fingers soothingly up the book’s spine. “A tome like this requires a tender touch.”


  Ling Qi stared blankly at him, only to glance down as she felt a tug at her sleeve. Yinhui looked up at Ling Qi and very slowly shook her head. “Please excuse him, Scholar Ling. He is right though; it is best to be careful with old books. They are often very picky.”


  “I will keep that in mind,” Ling Qi huffed. It wasn’t like they had time to study or read right now anyway.

  She turned her eyes to the massive tapestry, noting the powerful flows of qi in the fabric. She brushed her hand along its side and felt a thrum of awareness.

  She really should have expected this.

  ***

  The chamber’s existence, bolstered by Sixiang, lasted for nearly half an hour. Unable to put things into storage while in the ring, they were forced to physically carry things out to the upper levels. However, even with their abilities limited, thanks to both Ling Qi’s speed and Meng Dan’s ability to swiftly organize their loads for maximum efficiency, they managed to save most of the materials that had not already fallen into the void.

  It still hurt to see so many talismans, books, and works of art go. She had earned these, damn it.

  Ling Qi sat the last pile of items down, watching a handful of hairpins and jewels go rolling across the floor. They had knocked over and shoved aside several stacks of Hui Peng’s scribbling in moving the contents up here, and the floor was now practically carpeted in looseleaf papers and sketches.

  Well, where it wasn’t covered in actual carpets. They had found quite a few of those.

  “Good work, Miss Ling,” Meng Dan’s voice called to her from over the piles. “Do come over here. You have to see this.” He was still sounding so energetic, even though he’d carried just as much as she had.

  Beside her, Sixiang reformed with a small laugh, jabbing her in the side with their elbow. “It’s not like you aren’t excited by all this loot.”


  Ling Qi turned up her nose as she wound around the transported shelves. That wasn’t the point. While most of what they had brought up wasn’t particularly potent, they were all clearly cultivator work. She had seen paintings which moved with inner animation and sculptures which felt almost real to the touch. She had lost count of the number of second and third grade talisman accessories mixed in among items whose power was fully in the sheer quality of their craftsmanship.

  “What did you—” Ling Qi began as she rounded a shelf, only to stop and blink.

  Meng Dan stood before the great tapestry unrolled haphazardly over piles of parchment and paper. The sight took her breath away. Before her eyes, the eaves of Xiangmen moved, and the stars twinkled amongst its canopy. Among the leaves, along the branches, and twining down the trunk were hundreds of names picked out in gold and silver stitching.

  Meng Dan stood before it, the book which he had taken from her still cradled in his hands, but now, the cover was open, revealing a beautiful watercolor illustration of a wise-looking sage garbed in resplendent robes which were vibrant with flowers and plant life. A crown of stars shone about his head in the shape of great antlers. She knew without a doubt that it was intended to be a depiction of Tsu the Diviner.

  “It seems that the tapestry is a companion piece,” Meng Dan said, staring intently at the cloth. “And look at this.”


  He reached out, pressing his finger against the the tapestry, and before her eyes, the names changed, seeming to zoom like startled birds across the tapestry until a whole new set of names became clear. Directly under his thin finger was the name “Duzhi.”


  “A bloodline tracking device, obviously made to reinforce Hui legitimacy, but still,” he said, finally looking up as she stepped up to his side. “Meng Duzhi was the third son of Duke Angguo. He took an imperial wife and received the right to settle the western fens from his father. The reasons for the split are unclear, but I’ve posited that it was a move to remove some bloat from the council of kings and avoid a succession crisis.” Meng Dan spoke quickly. “Ah, I know so little of the founding period! Only the direct descendants of the Patriarch typically have access to our inner archives……”


  Ling Qi listened to him speak, but her eyes were on the tapestry. She felt a little thrill of curiosity. What would happen if she laid a finger on it?

  Threads 157 Past 2

  Together, they descended into the unnatural darkness of the stairwell.

  Together, they found more confounding effects. There were places where the space of the stairwell warped, turning back on itself in a recursive loop. There were other places where the fabric of this space thinned, threatening to drop intruders into bubbles of corrosive not-reality or spill the stuff into the ring itself. And yet other places sang softly in their minds, showing visions of riches and secrets uncounted.

  Between her instinct and Meng Dan’s sight, they traversed safely. Illusions were revealed as the pale shadows they were. Ling Qi found the thread of a path that snaked through recursive space, and Meng Dan’s fluttering paper talismans sealed the planned rifts that sought to spill corroding dreamstuff into the ring’s internals.

  During the descent, the four of them did not speak overmuch, their focus squarely placed on traversing the stairs, but when at last they reached the foot of the stairs, the silence was broken.

  Sixiang whistled long and low at the glittering hoard before them.

  Despite herself, Ling Qi felt her eyes widen as she beheld it all. Piled almost waist-high through a space some forty meters across were treasures. Jewelry, gemstones, statuary, paintings, and tapestries and other treasures were strewn haphazardly across the stone floor, as if they had been thrown carelessly into a pile with great haste.

  But like above, the most prevalent thing down here was books. Shelves of polished wood, still gleaming and near reflective, stood crookedly throughout the chamber, filled with books, and other books lay on the ground or rested haphazardly on piles of goods.

  She didn’t think it was an illusion this time. She glanced at Meng Dan and saw his eyes were narrowed, strings of shining qi crawling across the lenses of his glasses. Carefully, she sent her wisps bobbing out, not touching any of the treasures within as they began to search the piles.

  “What do you think? The real thing?”


  “It seems so,” he said slowly. “We must be careful though. I sense great instability in this space. I would not step on the tile in front of you.”


  Ling Qi paused and traced her eyes over the painfully rich contents of the ring, feeling the flows of the dreamstuff that made up the structure itself. The weave of it was thin here like a technique half-dispelled. Carefully, she stretched her foot out and pressed it against the stone tile just in front of them. Rock dissolved under the slight pressure, falling away into a hole that led to a kaleidoscope of shifting formless color.

  “Very unstable,” she agreed.

  One of her wisps passed over a gaping rent into the floor, and she watched as a jeweled hairpin teetering on the crumbling edge fell, dissolving like mist in the sea of dream.

  “Our entry into this space has sped up the rate of corrosion,” Yinhui said calmly, peering out from behind Meng Dan. Both of her hands were clasped around one of his.

  Sixiang’s lips were pressed together in a thin line. “It’s too much to stabilize, but I can probably give you guys more time. Gonna be tuckered out after holding it together though.”


  Ling Qi nodded sharply. “Do it. Meng Dan, do you think the upper part of the ring is going to crumble too? Is this another trap or just age?”


  “I suspect both given previous obstacles. A ring of this calibre should not be breaking down after a mere few centuries. The security functions have broken though. How shoddy,” he criticized. “Yinhui?”


  “Overall integrity should remain for one year and thirty seven days,” the small spirit replied.

  “Long enough then. It is a good thing that we have cleared the stairwell’s defenses. I suggest we begin moving as much of the treasures as we are able,” Meng Dan said. “Have your scouts noted anything of particular value, Miss Ling?”


  Ling Qi’s vision flickered through multiple viewpoints at once. “Yes, there is……”


  Ling Qi trailed off as she saw a great tapestry as long and thick as the trunk of a tree, vibrant with qi. On the floor near the tapestry was a small chest, slips of white jade glittering within. All around it were shelves holding thick volumes. One title in particular caught her eye. It was .

  “I believe I see some very valuable books along the right wall,” Ling Qi said faintly.

  “How valuable?” Meng Dan asked, raising an eyebrow as he considered the shelves already before them with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

  “How valuable would you rate a completed genealogy of the Weilu?” Ling Qi asked.

  Beside her, Meng Dan stilled. He didn’t blink, or adjust his glasses, or even draw another breath for a long moment. Then the moment broke, and the perpetually smiling young man licked his lips nervously. “We should hurry, I think.”


  “We should,” Ling Qi agreed.

  “On it.” Sixiang’s laughed, their physical form dispersed into a cloud of glittering mist, and the chamber groaned as stone settled, solidified, and became more real.

  Ling Qi sprang off, following the curve of the left wall. Even with her mobility limited, she could still move quickly, her feet barely touching stone as she scanned the floor for weak points. Behind her, Meng Dan followed, Yinhui clinging to the back of his robe. His movement technique was interesting. She saw characters and numbers in the shadows and wind around him, flickering with silver, and then he would take a step and simply move, crossing meters of distance in a blur.

  He followed after her in a zigzagging path that wove through the weakened parts of the floor, never seeming to do more than take individual small steps. Yet she could feel the wind parting around him as he moved, so it wasn’t like her own quick shadow stepping.

  It only took a matter of moments to circle the room to where she had seen the books and the oversized tapestry, and all the while, her wisps zoomed over the room, noting things that looked of special value.

  “Miss Ling,” Meng Dan said as she alighted beside the shelf. “Do I have your permission to access your divinatory constructs?”


  “Is that something you can do?” Ling Qi asked.

  “Of course,” he chuckled. “It is much easier if you do not resist.”


  “That sounds very suspicious.” Yinhui sighed.

  It did, but they were in a hurry. “I will try not to throw off your technique, so go ahead. But why?”


  If he tried anything untoward, they were literally sitting beside Cai Renxiang, who would, no doubt, notice.

  “It will enable me to catalogue all of this and calculate the most optimal gathering……” Meng Dan began cheerfully, only to trail off. It took her a moment to realize that he had come into sight of the books and their titles.

  For just a moment, she saw the excitement of a child whose parents had just given them a free run of a sweet shop.

  “Sir Meng?” she inquired politely. It would be rude to comment.

  He shook himself. “Yes, of course. Please allow me a moment, Miss Ling.”


  Meng Dan brought his hands together in front of his face, traceries of silver light gleaming on his fingernails and from beneath his half-closed eyelids. Ling Qi felt an odd sort of tingling through the meridians which powered her divination techniques. It felt a bit like when Sixiang would actively peer through her eyes.

  This technique was insidious. If she hadn’t been prepared and waiting for it, she felt like she could have easily missed it. A dangerous skill, but one that made sense for a technique from the Hidden Moon.

  Ling Qi reached down to pluck the book which had caught her eye from the shelf. It was a massive thing, as thick as one of Renxiang’s unabridged legal codes, and was bound in supple green leather with its title inked in shimmering characters that flowed from silver to gold and back.

  Ling Qi moved to open it and take a peek at the pages inside, only for the cover to resist her. She frowned and tried to simply flip it open to the middle, but the pages stayed as they were as if she were holding a stone sculpture of a book. In her arms, the tremendous tome let out something like a whispery growl, like a cat who had just had its fur rubbed the wrong way.

  “Do be careful, Miss Ling,” Meng Dan said anxiously. She was a little startled when he snatched the book right out of her hands. Meng Dan didn’t look at her at all; instead, he was preoccupied with running his fingers soothingly up the book’s spine. “A tome like this requires a tender touch.”


  Ling Qi stared blankly at him, only to glance down as she felt a tug at her sleeve. Yinhui looked up at Ling Qi and very slowly shook her head. “Please excuse him, Scholar Ling. He is right though; it is best to be careful with old books. They are often very picky.”


  “I will keep that in mind,” Ling Qi huffed. It wasn’t like they had time to study or read right now anyway.

  She turned her eyes to the massive tapestry, noting the powerful flows of qi in the fabric. She brushed her hand along its side and felt a thrum of awareness.

  She really should have expected this.

  ***

  The chamber’s existence, bolstered by Sixiang, lasted for nearly half an hour. Unable to put things into storage while in the ring, they were forced to physically carry things out to the upper levels. However, even with their abilities limited, thanks to both Ling Qi’s speed and Meng Dan’s ability to swiftly organize their loads for maximum efficiency, they managed to save most of the materials that had not already fallen into the void.

  It still hurt to see so many talismans, books, and works of art go. She had earned these, damn it.

  Ling Qi sat the last pile of items down, watching a handful of hairpins and jewels go rolling across the floor. They had knocked over and shoved aside several stacks of Hui Peng’s scribbling in moving the contents up here, and the floor was now practically carpeted in looseleaf papers and sketches.

  Well, where it wasn’t covered in actual carpets. They had found quite a few of those.

  “Good work, Miss Ling,” Meng Dan’s voice called to her from over the piles. “Do come over here. You have to see this.” He was still sounding so energetic, even though he’d carried just as much as she had.

  Beside her, Sixiang reformed with a small laugh, jabbing her in the side with their elbow. “It’s not like you aren’t excited by all this loot.”


  Ling Qi turned up her nose as she wound around the transported shelves. That wasn’t the point. While most of what they had brought up wasn’t particularly potent, they were all clearly cultivator work. She had seen paintings which moved with inner animation and sculptures which felt almost real to the touch. She had lost count of the number of second and third grade talisman accessories mixed in among items whose power was fully in the sheer quality of their craftsmanship.

  “What did you—” Ling Qi began as she rounded a shelf, only to stop and blink.

  Meng Dan stood before the great tapestry unrolled haphazardly over piles of parchment and paper. The sight took her breath away. Before her eyes, the eaves of Xiangmen moved, and the stars twinkled amongst its canopy. Among the leaves, along the branches, and twining down the trunk were hundreds of names picked out in gold and silver stitching.

  Meng Dan stood before it, the book which he had taken from her still cradled in his hands, but now, the cover was open, revealing a beautiful watercolor illustration of a wise-looking sage garbed in resplendent robes which were vibrant with flowers and plant life. A crown of stars shone about his head in the shape of great antlers. She knew without a doubt that it was intended to be a depiction of Tsu the Diviner.

  “It seems that the tapestry is a companion piece,” Meng Dan said, staring intently at the cloth. “And look at this.”


  He reached out, pressing his finger against the the tapestry, and before her eyes, the names changed, seeming to zoom like startled birds across the tapestry until a whole new set of names became clear. Directly under his thin finger was the name “Duzhi.”


  “A bloodline tracking device, obviously made to reinforce Hui legitimacy, but still,” he said, finally looking up as she stepped up to his side. “Meng Duzhi was the third son of Duke Angguo. He took an imperial wife and received the right to settle the western fens from his father. The reasons for the split are unclear, but I’ve posited that it was a move to remove some bloat from the council of kings and avoid a succession crisis.” Meng Dan spoke quickly. “Ah, I know so little of the founding period! Only the direct descendants of the Patriarch typically have access to our inner archives……”


  Ling Qi listened to him speak, but her eyes were on the tapestry. She felt a little thrill of curiosity. What would happen if she laid a finger on it?