Ling Qi avoided pushing things so far again in her practice with Meizhen, if only to avoid having to repair her flying sword again. Slowly, she improved, and its motions became smoother and more natural. It still felt odd though, as if she were learning to use a forgotten limb.

  According to the Inner Sect tutor she hired, a domain weapon was precisely that. One’s domain was a part of them as surely as one’s hands and feet were. A domain weapon’s main use as a training tool was that it provided an obvious physical medium by which she could learn to “flex” the spiritual muscle that she was now developing.

  Learning to control a weapon with her domain was only the first faltering steps of an infant. It was only in the early stages of the green realm that cultivators let their weapons simply clash against one another. As she grew, she would learn to integrate an art into the blade she wielded, allowing her to use multiple techniques simultaneously.

  That was far in the future though. The Green Realm had more stages than the two preceding realms combined and all were focused on the development of the domain. The second stage of the third realm, Appraisal, would prepare her to begin constructing her domain’s foundation, and each step thereafter required further clarifying her domain through the cultivation of arts and internalization of insights until she reached the cusp of the Fourth Realm and settled on a Way. In the third realm, it would be, if not easy, at least reasonable to shift and change her domain to a fairly large degree, but once she took the next step, her domain would be final. There were only a handful of rare and difficult methods which could shift the foundation of a cultivator’s Way once it had been set.

  Ling Qi threw herself further into training. Helped along by both the Silverblood pill Su Ling and Li Suyin had developed and her tutor, she mastered the exercises behind her two less used Argent arts, pushing them toward mastery and reaching the third rumble in Argent Storm and the fourth flow in Argent Current. Aside from the general improvements in the two argent art’s techniques, she mastered a new technique, Boom Leap.

  Every time she mastered a new movement or a new twist of qi control, she could feel herself coming closer to a sense of completion. Her tutor revealed that the Argent arts had been created by Sect Head Yuan as a comprehensive art suite for the Sect’s armed forces. The Mirror defended against the battlefield manipulation of the Cloud Tribe shamans, the Storm empowered the soldiers, enabling them to both defend against volleys of arrows and to close distance, and the Current allowed the charge of Argent Peak’s soldiers to break enemy lines. The Sect would grant Argent Pulse to those cultivators who mastered all three Argent arts.

  The Argent Pulse art was for commanders, those who stood at the head of formations and kept units working as a cohesive whole. A cultivator with the art would be able to bolster their soldiers with the stability of the earth and move them to action with the surety of heavenly might at their backs. In the wholeness of heaven and earth, a soldier could fight to their last breath without a loss of skill.

  Ling Qi was sure she wouldn’t walk the path of the Argent arts. She wouldn’t be able to teach others outside the Sect Argent arts, and her combat style did not lend itself to standing on the front lines of a battle. She’d learn the argent arts she had access to if she had free time, but her focus would be on her musical and moon arts.

  However, she could not afford to do nothing but cultivate. With all of the tutoring she had been purchasing, her Sect points were dwindling rapidly, and she needed to get enough points to hire next week’s tutor. It would be good to get out and stretch her legs with all of the cultivating that she had been doing. That one of the quests dovetailed nicely with a conversation that she wanted to have was a happy coincidence.

  “Keep up if you can,” Ling Qi laughed, leaping from branch to branch with her new technique, her companion trailing behind.

  “Now you’re just showing off,” Sixiang called, their lips curled in amusement as they floated along at a more sedate pace on fluttering wings of misty light. The Moon spirit was beginning to resemble Zeqing in that their legs were long gone, and even their hands and arms were beginning to dissolve into empty mist. “This isn’t quite what I expected to be doing today, but paying some cousins a visit is fine too.”


  Ling Qi let out a thoughtful hum and turned on her heel when she next landed, her next leap carrying her backward through the air. “Do you think they’re going to give us trouble?”


  “If you know the right things to say, no. That is why you’re bringing me along after all, right?” Sixiang mused.

  Ling Qi nodded, perched on a heavier branch before launching herself to the next, still facing backwards. “Actually, I’ve been thinking. Why are Dreaming Moon spirits so…… wild? Shouldn’t a spirit of art and socializing be more…… cultured, I guess?”


  Sixiang buzzed around the trunk of a particularly large tree, trailing multi-hued mist from their half-corporeal limbs, a thoughtful expression on their face. “Well, I was born here, you know,” Sixiang said. “I probably have cousins like that up north, but in the great Emerald Seas, things aren’t quite so tame, you know?”


  “I’ve never seen anything like your Grandmother’s party back in Tonghou,” Ling Qi contended, ducking under a branch without looking as the wind sent the hems of her gown fluttering. “And the Sect is in the Emerald Seas too.”


  “Well, of course you wouldn’t have!” Sixiang laughed. “The cities and Sects, those are places for humans.”


  “And the Emerald Seas isn’t?” Ling Qi asked dryly.

  “It wasn’t always. Spirits remember when the Horned Lords walked ‘neath the hallowed boughs and raised their hands and cups to the Moon and Sun,” they said with a poetic lilt.

  “They were human though,” Ling Qi pointed out. “They were one of the founding families of the Empire.”


  “Is that how you decide what a human is?” Sixiang asked, cocking their head to the side. “Well, that’s fine too.”


  “If you say it like that, I don’t feel like you agree at all,” Ling Qi said dryly. “I guess this sort of thing is what Lady Cai meant when she mentioned how troublesome the clans which kept to the Weilu ways were,” she mused.

  Something flickered in Sixiang’s glittering black eyes. A hint of discomfort, perhaps? Ling Qi frowned. Now that she thought about it, Sixiang had never followed her anywhere near Cai Renxiang.

  “Well, the history lesson doesn’t matter so much,” Ling Qi said, breaking the silence. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, would you like to stay awhile, even after you…… fade?” Ling Qi forged on. “It’s just…… I could use someone who can critique my music since I’m going to have to eventually leave the Sect behind and all.” She landed atop a thick branch, bringing her run to stop.

  “I thought you might ask,” Sixiang said, bringing themself to a stop a few meters away. “It might be fun for a time.”


  “You’ll be able to leave whenever you want, of course,” Ling Qi reassured the spirit. “A different perspective can be useful now and then, you know?”


  “I can give that much,” Sixiang replied lightly as they drifted closer. “And things won’t be stagnant around you, or so I think.”


  She studied the spirit’s oddly serious expression. “I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment,” she said flatly.

  Sixiang beamed. “You should.” They extended an arm, offering her their half-translucent hand.

  Ling Qi studied Sixiang then grasped their hand. It was like holding a bundle of silk, or perhaps a cloud. Directing the qi through her hands, she found the core of energy that was “Sixiang,” and with a deep breath, she forged a connection from that core to her own dantian.

  Sixiang immediately collapsed into mist, and Ling Qi shuddered as her entire body shook with a surge of near manic energy. Meanwhile, she felt her qi reserve drop sharply as the connection between her and the now formless spirit strengthened and stabilized. “Spirits, that feels weird,” she muttered, glancing at the dissipating cloud where the spirit had stood.

  Sixiang’s voice seemed to whisper in her ear.

  Ling Qi sighed.

  ***

  “So then, the goat-man-thing at the center demands a duel like I’m the one who did something wrong!” Ling Qi complained, gesturing with the translucent cup in her hands. Zeqing’s tableware was all made to order, which was definitely convenient.

  Sixiang noted, their whispery voice echoing in her ears.

  “Half of them didn’t even have pants,” Ling Qi grumbled, disgusted. “It was indecent. They should have been thankful.” If she never saw such a disturbing sight again, she would be happy.

  “How beastly,” Zeqing said without expression, hovering in a seated position across the table from her. The drink in her hands sparkled, a deeper blue than the much watered wine in Ling Qi’s own cup. The stuff was apparently made from the fruits of the tree outside Zeqing’s house by members of the Inner Sect.

  “Did you beat him up then?” Hanyi asked, bouncing in her own raised seat. “Did you freeze his shorthairs off and make him cry?” The younger spirit sounded disturbingly pleased at the idea.

  Sixiang laughed, making Ling Qi flush.

  “Well, it wasn’t that kind of duel,” Ling Qi replied, looking away and sipping from the sweet wine. It tingled pleasantly all the way down to her stomach. “He pulled out an erhu and started fiddling away, but he wasn’t exactly attacking……”


  “I do hope that you crushed his pride for such a challenge,” Zeqing sniffed, partaking elegantly from her own cup. Ling Qi briefly wondered how that worked when Zeqing’s body was just an artificial construction. “My student should not lose to some Dreaming wilding.”


  “I played one of the songs I’ve worked on in my free time, which they reacted really strongly to,” Ling Qi continued remembering the audience of human-ish and beastly spirits. “They must all have been really intoxicated, however that works,” she grumbled. How was she to know that her song would make a bunch of wild spirits devolve into empathetic tears? “I definitely won though. The rest of them shouted the goat-thing down when he called for a second round.”


  “That’s no fun,” Hanyi pouted. “You should have frozen him a little anyway for being rude.”


  “Ling Qi achieved the greater victory,” Zeqing pointed out with a touch of amusement. “What is mere physical discomfort beside humiliation.”


  Ling Qi stared down into her cup; she hadn’t been going for that at all. At least the party had been willing to listen to her instructions and move away from the town and roads after that.

  Sixiang reassured her.

  “Still,” Zeqing said, breaking her from her thoughts. “You have come quite far. I am pleased with your progress,” the spirit added, her normally still lips curving into a smile.

  “Thank you for your praise,” Ling Qi replied, feeling a little embarrassed. “And thank you for inviting me to your home.”


  “It is no more than you deserve. Your growing mastery of both the Forgotten Vale and my own art has been nothing short of impressive,” Zeqing replied evenly. Ling Qi didn’t miss the way that Hanyi puffed out her cheeks and kicked her bare feet in agitation. She didn’t mind being used as a motivational prop though.

  Sixiang mused.

  “I’ve been doing well too, right, Mother?” Hanyi asked, a pleading note in her voice.

  “You have shown your dedication,” Zeqing answered neutrally.

  Ling Qi smiled, reaching over to ruffle the child spirit’s hair. “You’ve been working hard. I bet you’ll catch up to me in your Mother’s arts in no time.”


  Hanyi batted her hand away and huffed. “Obviously! I won’t lose,” she declared, crossing her arms.

  “It seems I have nothing to worry about then,” Zeqing said lightly, but there was a hint of something else in her voice.

  Sixiang shivered.

  Ling Qi mentally shushed the Dream spirit. Whatever her nature, Zeqing wouldn’t deliberately hurt her. The indecency of the other dream spirits was a whole other matter. “So, what brought on this invitation anyway?”


  “Nothing of particular import,” Zeqing replied, raising an eyebrow. “I simply wished to show my delight with your progress. I had thought you might enjoy my refreshments as well,” she added, drinking from her own cup.

  “It is very good,” Ling Qi agreed, glancing down at her own watered wine. The sweetness and chill reminded her of a crisp winter’s morning, and it had an odd edge to it that she couldn’t easily describe. “What are the fruits outside anyway?”


  “Rimefruit. But I know not what your kind calls this particular breed,” Zeqing answered. “They grow south of the mountains of the Wall, but my presence allows them to grow in these warmer climes.”


  They were on top of a mountain above the line of the clouds. If she were a mortal, she would be a frozen corpse, Ling Qi thought a bit incredulously. How cold were the southern lands? “They must be very rare then,” Ling Qi commented. “Are you sure it is fine for me to drink this?”


  “My portion of the harvest is at my disposal,” Zeqing said, just a bit sharply. “In any case, you have given us a tale. As your hostess, it is only appropriate that I return the favor.”


  Ling Qi took another careful sip of the cool wine and settled in to listen as Zeqing began to spin a tale of confounding a band of Cloud Tribe hunters ranging far from their territory and their increasing panic and desperation as she picked them off one by one.

  She found herself smiling as Hanyi clapped in delight with the description of each takedown. The tale was a bit grisly, but…… this was nice.

  She would look back on this fondly in the coming days.

  Threads 180-Dawn 3

  “I’m home,” Ling Qi said.

  “Welcome back,” said her mother, bowing her head.

  Ling Qi itched to embrace her, but that could come later when they weren’t standing in the front garden. Somehow, every time she saw the Duchess, she found her appreciation for her own mother growing. Following her mother inside, Ling Qi cast one more glance over the house and the town outside.

  It wasn’t pretty. There were holes in the roof where shingles had been torn away, and several of the upstairs windows were covered by boards. Around them, the garden, once full of flowers, had been churned to muddy ruin. Her home seemed to have gotten off fairly lightly though, all things considered.

  Outside, things were worse. She had seen a handful of buildings which had simply collapsed and were now being rebuilt by workers from the Sect. The dirt roads outside the city center were still ankle-deep muck in places, and outside the town walls, she had seen two miniature lakes full of muddy, stagnant water. She was sure that some Outer Sect disciples would be earning sect points while cleansing and removing those soon.

  It seemed that even so far from the front, the effects of a seventh realm cultivator’s power would be felt. The air still tingled with electricity and grief, and she was sure that weight wasn’t helping with the more mundane problems.

  “Were you and Biyu well while I was gone?” Ling Qi asked as they entered the front hall.

  “We persevered,” Ling Qingge replied. “It was easier for Biyu. Once I understood that the room that the young man installed blocked out what was happening outside, she was able to sleep again. She did become a little agitated with the enclosure as time wore on.”


  “I’m glad some value has already come from it.” She relaxed a little. If her mother was talking about such a small problem, then there weren’t any greater ones. “But how were you?”


  “I was able to keep myself busy between the neighbors and our household. I invited those who lived outside to stay with us during the storm,” Ling Qingge answered. “I hope you don’t believe that was a misstep.”


  Ling Qi shook her head slightly. Anyone who had a problem with that wasn’t going to be someone she could really be friendly with anyway. “That’s fine. How… were they? It was probably frightening.”


  They were her mother’s friends and acquaintances, so it was only polite to ask.

  “It shook some of them,” her mother admitted. “But it was not so bad for adults, who could understand what was happening.”


  Ling Qi hummed in agreement as her mother continued speaking. It was good hearing her talk about others with the implication that she was doing more than just huddling down and focusing on herself. She was a little surprised to learn that her mother suspected that they might be losing one or two of the younger girls brought from Tonghou. It seemed they had found men they were interested in staying with in the town.

  Ling Qi made a silent note to herself to send a wisp or two out for a wander while she cultivated tonight.

  Sixiang sighed.

  It was only reasonable. She trusted her mother to have done the same, but there were tools only she had.

  Before Sixiang could respond further, her mother turned her head to look at her. “Ah, are your spirits present? I do not want to be rude by not greeting them as well.”


  “Hanyi decided to visit her mother’s old home, and Zhengui is taking a nap. Being awake for so long at a stretch really tired him out,” Ling Qi explained.

  “Don’t worry ‘bout me, Momma Ling. Just focus on this troublesome daughter of yours,” Sixiang said aloud, letting their voice carry on the wind. At the far end of the hall, Ling Qi saw a cleaning girl who had been looking at them out of the corner of her eye startle.

  She saw her mother’s shoulders stiffen, but she didn’t jump this time. Progress. “I will try to do so,” she said.

  They passed into the dining room then. It was a bit of a mess. Materials for repair were stacked about the edges of the room, but the table was clear, and Ling Qi was able to see the traces of dirt from workman’s boots in the cracks in the floorboards.

  “Ling Qi, how did your trip go?” her mother asked, turning to face her as they approached the table.

  “Better than could reasonably be expected,” Ling Qi said wryly. “That reminds me. I brought back gifts!”


  She gestured, and the air above the table shimmered along with a faint puff of air as objects materialized and settled on the table. They were small things: painting, vases, a folded tapestry, and other bits of decor. She still wasn’t completely sure of Meng Dan’s words, but she had accepted his help in picking out a few pieces to keep anyway.

  “Beautiful,” Ling Qingge murmured, leaning over the nearest painting. It was a simple thing, depicting a winding stream that pooled in a pond filled with swimming ducks and sparkling fish. Wispy wind and water spirits gave the piece a more mystical feel, and the water of the pond and stream shimmered like real water. The positions of the animals and fish seemed to change a little when looked at from different angles as well. “Where in the world did you acquire these?”


  “We came upon a cache of art and artifacts after defeating a hidden traitor,” Ling Qi replied easily. She might explain more clearly later, but she would rather let her mother enjoy the gifts for now. “I’m selling most of it, but it seemed a shame not to keep a few, and these…”


  She paused, long enough for her mother to look up from her examination with a frown. “These what, Ling Qi?”


  “Well, one of my companions helped me do a genealogy. Technically, the makers of these works are ancestors, even if it’s really distant and they’re not really acknowledgeable,” Ling Qi said, her eyes wandering over the spread. It was a small thing, but she supposed she understood Meng Dan’s words.

  She didn’t put any great stock in ancestry still, but maybe future Lings would find them inspiring. She didn’t think that would be a bad thing. “Not a bad little foundation, right, Mother?”


  “I—” her mother began.

  Ling Qi’s eyes darted to the side as she heard a high-pitched cry, and she turned in time to catch a small form bounding into the room to embrace her legs. The blanket of the Sect Head’s qi really was intense, Ling Qi thought, if she had missed her sister’s approach.

  Ling Qi crouched down and embraced her little sister back. “Missed you, Biyu,” she said, tousling the girl’s hair.

  The little girl squealed happily, grabbing at her hand. “Missed Sis-y! Bad air goes away!”


  Ling Qi glanced up to see a red-faced older woman huffing and puffing her way up the hall where Biyu had come from. She felt sympathetic to the woman; she had a feeling the power of her domain gave Biyu a certain energy that made her hard to keep up with for a mortal. The staff had probably noticed this too given the lack of surprise on the woman’s face as she stopped near the entrance to the room.

  Sixiang pronounced mock-seriously.

  Behind her, Ling Qingge gestured to the other woman, who briefly bowed and took her leave. “Biyu, please don’t run in the house,” she chided gently.

  “But Sis-y,” Biyu pouted, peering past Ling Qi.

  “Listen to Mother,” Ling Qi said. “I’ll be here for a few days this time.”


  The little girl’s eyes went wide, and she babbled happily at the news, but her mother gave her a concerned look. “Is that truly alright?”


  “I’ve earned a little break,” Ling Qi said, laying her hand on Biyu’s head. “Unless there’s a real emergency, it’s fine.”


  “Dance!” Biyu blurted out before her mother could reply. “Wanna show!”


  Ling Qi blinked and shot her mother a questioning look.

  “One of the younger girls was once a ritual dancer at the Temple of the Bountiful Earth before her circumstances changed. Lessons helped distract Biyu from confinement,” Ling Qingge explained.

  “Lei-Lei is nice,” Biyu affirmed. “Show Sis-y?”


  Ling Qi felt a slight pang. She’d intended to be the one who showed Biyu some basics of dance as a bonding thing, but it seemed she’d been beaten to it. She didn’t regret her trip but…


  Sixiang thought.

  “Sure, I don’t mind, if it's fine with you, Mother,” Ling Qi said aloud, not letting her thoughts show.

  “I discarded the day’s schedule the moment I felt your presence,” Ling Qingge said with a small smile.

  ***?

  Ling Qi leaned back on the soft couch in the panic room. Her mother had seen it furnished since she had been here last with things likely commissioned from the town. Wall hangings concealed the faintly humming formation arrays, still partially active from keeping the atmosphere outside out, and in addition to the couch she sat on, there were a few other chairs and small tables, along with a pair of small but well appointed cots in one corner.

  Laying in her lap, Biyu turned over, murmuring in her sleep. They’d spent a few hours letting her show off the first halting steps she’d learned from Lei-Lei and then Ling Qi coaching her further. It was less about deliberate routines at this point and more a matter of instilling balance and rhythm. It was fun though, even if Biyu was too young to really get it yet.

  “I am so glad you made it home safely,” her mother murmured from her seat beside Ling Qi.

  Carefully, Ling Qi wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders. It still struck her sometimes how much taller she was than the older woman and how very frail her mother seemed. “I’ve gotten pretty tough, you know?”


  “Maybe,” her mother responded weakly. “But having felt the storm, I could not help but worry.”


  Ling Qi let her eyes drift shut. “That’s fair. I try to stay in my own league though. Were you really okay while worrying about everyone else, Mother?”


  “I was as well as I could be,” Ling Qingge admitted. “But I am glad that the campaign has halted for the moment.”


  “So am I,” Ling Qi said.

  There was some trepidation there. The Duchess was coming south. And if what she had felt in the air was the mere distant echo of the Sect Head’s actions, then she dearly hoped that Cai Shenhua never had cause to so much as lift a finger. “I noticed that your cultivation has advanced.”


  “Has it?” Ling Qingge asked, looking down at her hands. “I merely found it good for focusing my mind.”


  “I think you’re close to reaching gold physique,” Ling Qi said. “Would you like my help tomorrow morning, giving it the last push?”


  Her mother closed her eyes, letting out a breath. “I think I should like that.”