It was over at last.

  Bao Qingling allowed herself a sigh of relief as the entrance to her workshop closed overhead, shutting out the light and noise of the outside world. Thick gloves and heavy boots dissolved into wisps of qi, allowing her to feel the welcoming thrum of the threads beneath her fingers and toes as she descended the tunnel. The wispy threads of qi spread invisibly through the air around her faded away, unnecessary here in her nest.

  Vibration and movement of the air on her skin carried all of the information she needed. Bianzhi was deep below near the underside of her nest, fangs deep in a struggling wind spirit’s core. Her meal was in the lowest reaches of the third grade, Bao Qingling noted idly, going by its pleading.

  Her workroom was just as she left it, her furnace’s formations set at an idle burn that would purify the reagents within in preparation for a new batch of elixirs. In the little tunnels of the lower nest, Bianzhi’s sons and daughters sported with Li Suyin’s constructs, making a game of testing the skeletal thing’s reactions and programming.

  It was comforting to be back here where every thread was an extension of her senses. Bianzhi’s awareness brushed against her own, mingling with hers through the medium of their shared work. Yes, there were few things which could match the feeling of being perched in her web after an extended time skittering about outside.

  It had not been as bad as her time before the sect. She still remembered vividly her life in that hatefully bright and crowded estate. She remembered her many episodes quite clearly. The shaking, the inability to breathe, and the blurring of weak mortal eyes with tears as her chest grew tight and her extremities grew numb. She remembered the feeling of being surrounded and crushed by the weight of the presence of the people around her.

  Her alterations to her senses had helped. With her arts active, she could not see the mocking faces and the looming intent of threat in those around her. Experiencing the world in a primarily tactile and spiritual fashion served as a successful filter, even if the practice necessary to ensure that her eyes and expressions still behaved properly had been irritating. This week could, therefore, only be classified as a success.

  Yet her mood remained sour. Her brother, Bao Quan, was still convinced that she could be ‘fixed’ and made normal. He cared for her and genuinely so. But he made not the slightest effort to understand her, assuming that she would be better if she were just as bright and gregarious as the rest of the Bao. A Bao who could not gaily talk a dragon into selling its jewel was not a Bao at all, after all.

  It was infuriating.

  She paused, hanging loosely from the ceiling of the main hall. Her attention brushed over Li Suyin’s workshop where the skeletons of beasts twisted into the shape of men and garbed in drifting silks performed the menial labor of packing up her things.

  It had been a strange mood which had led to her taking a ‘student’. She had chosen to oversee the Outer Sect’s Medicine Hall out of a desire for the staggering number of Contribution Points which the position offered, despite its troublesome and time-consuming nature.

  During the exams to enter the Medicine Hall, she found herself moved from her indifference. If it had merely been a pang of sympathy for a girl curled in on herself, weathering the bluster and bullying of the trash around her, it would have ended, a fleeting flash of emotion, quickly forgotten. Yet as she oversaw the test, she had seen shaking hands ruining a delicate cut, a stumble spilling a limited reagent, and other little things. Each of them occurred shortly after a downcast blue-haired girl had passed by.

  It was nothing above the threshold for which she was meant to prevent, and so she had said nothing as the shy, mutilated girl had ruined the chances of a half dozen entrants. Ultimately, it was the shame and self-loathing she had seen in the girl’s eyes as she turned in her perfect finished project that had moved her to action.

  There was nothing wrong with putting trash in its place, and everything wrong with suppressing a true self for the sake of mere social expectation. That was the reason behind her idolization of the Duchess Cai. How could she do anything but admire the woman who had, rather than bending to fit the world, instead bent it to fit her?

  Shaking her head very slightly, Bao Qingling moved on, descending into the lower tunnels. A brief and rare smile crossed her pale lips as Bianzhi’s grandchildren skittered over her hands and face, the ticklish feeling of tiny legs on her skin quickly spreading across her arms and neck as they welcomed her home. Li Suyin had some ways to go yet. She was still held back by shame, refusing to admit to the pride she took in ruining her enemies.

  As she dropped from the ceiling, casually slowing her slide down the sloped tunnel leading into Bianzhi’s nest with one hand, Bao Qingling felt the last of her irritation ebb. Yes, even the unpleasant parts of this week had proven fruitful. Her student was in the Inner Sect. Her brother, for all of his misplaced concern, had conveyed Father’s satisfaction with her work and a commensurate increase in her allowance.

  And the drugs suppressing her cultivation and qi were, if not foolproof to her peers, then close to it. None of her peers would suspect the advances she had made this year.

  With the contribution points she had earned this year, a rank in the upper five hundreds was in reach.

  ***

  It all seemed so small at this height. Hou Zhuang peered out the window of their vessel at the cloudscape below and the flashes of green and blue beneath. From this altitude, all seemed at peace. The world had many lessons yet to teach in deception.

  “Are you truly satisfied, Hou Zhuang?” Bai Suzhen’s attention was an executioner’s blade pressed against his throat, a blade fit to crack mountains and sunder seas. He blinked tiredly as her words cut through the pressure that had been upon him since their vessel had reached the cloud line. He looked down at his hands, trembling involuntarily from the pressure. It was too bad that there was not enough left of him to feel the same fear in his mind.

  Bai Suzhen was the perfect image of a Bai Matriarch, her steel grey hair woven through an elaborate headdress of blades and her lithe figure wrapped in layers of blue and white silk that shifted like the coils of a serpent. The tall woman looked down upon him from her seat, not bothering to hide her disdain.

  He bowed his head and spread his trembling hands. “I am an open book, am I not, honored cousin?”


  There were no secrets he could hide from a seventh realm cultivator who wished to look. He knew what she spoke of, and in his mind’s eye, he saw his daughter’s eyes. dismissive, contemptuous, and apathetic. Bai Meizhen had grown up well. He was proud of her maturity. Those were the eyes, so like her mother’s, that he deserved.

  “You shame Meilin,” Bai Suzhen said. Hou Zhuang winced at the feeling of wetness on his cheek where the words had cut him. A spark of anger flared in his empty heart, but such sparks could not be maintained without fuel. It faded.

  “You are correct, honored cousin. All the same, I will serve as well as I can,” Hou Zhuang replied, lowering his head.

  Serving was what he was. Like the sword immortals, raised to kill, he had been raised to hide and to see. He was an important tool for his clan’s rise, or so he had thought. How absurd it had been for his half brother to fear his cultivation. He could not want power in that way. Even back then, there was no part of him which could have had such ambitions. Then again, perhaps that was incomprehensible to one raised to rule. He supposed that it was good that the clan had elected to marry him off rather than disposing of him.

  The Bai were cruel and unkind to outsiders, but he had not minded at first. His marriage had been brief in the time spans of cultivators, merely a few decades. There had been no passion, no grand romance, between Bai Meilin and Hou Zhuang. Yet she had been a friend, his partner, in her way, far more than the family which had sold him. Her death had severed something in him, and although that loss had allowed him to step into the fifth realm, he had become unworthy of their daughter.

  A more worthless father than this old man would be difficult to find.

  Bai Suzhen regarded him with the eyes of a serpent staring down at a particularly scrawny rodent. “So be it. I am proud of my niece. I will do what you cannot. Her performance severs the last barriers in the path. I suppose your fecklessness serves some purpose at least.”


  Hou Zhuang smiled wanly. It would not be long before his daughter had proper parents again. “Meilin’s network will remain at your disposal. I will not allow her inheritance to rot on the vine.” With their work passed on, he could rest.

  “What are your thoughts on the events of the tournament?” Bai Suzhen asked, her clipped tone brooking no disagreement on the change of subject.

  “Your timing in bringing out the proposed alliance with Cai Shenhua was a masterstroke,” Hou Zhuang replied. “It will be worth the double agents burned to keep the matter secret. Emerald Seas maintains a strong resource economy, but their ability to leverage it remains limited. The benefits to the alliance are obvious.”


  “I did not ask for your praise,” Bai Suzhen rejected.

  “The trouble remains our domestic situation,” Hou Zhuang continued, not missing a beat. “Cai Shenhua has her own troubles with unruly vassals not wholly brought to heel, but many of your brothers, sisters, and cousins will be incensed as well. There is already much correspondence flying about.”


  “Mm. I assume Anxi is making noise again,” Bai Suzhen said, her attention on him finally growing lighter as she looked to the side in thought, the ornaments in her hair jingling softly. “The conservatives will not countenance him. Two male clan heads in a row has already caused many to grumble. Three would be beyond the pale, no matter his policies.”


  “I believe he is throwing his weight behind Bai Zhilan,” Hou Zhuang noted, absently reaching up to wipe the blood from his cheek. “She has a great deal of support from the Red and Green lines as the General of Zhengjian.”


  Bai Suzhen’s lips twitched down in distaste. “I see. My planned expansions to our port and naval capacity should bring the Violet lines to my side, and the Blues as well with the infrastructure projects and repairs of the interior. Place your agents among the lesser lines, and begin pushing the alliance. I will see to my brothers and sisters.”


  “As you say, honored cousin,” Hou Zhuang said with a tired sigh. “You should know that the discontent is not wholly manufactured by your sisters. Old organizations are beginning to move among the other castes.”


  Bai Suzhen frowned. “I am aware of those. We allow the lesser bloodlines their outlets so long as they only grumble. Should they act, we will crush them, as we have done many times before. It would be unfortunate to waste so many Bai lives at this time though. Make certain that they do not move beyond grumbling.”


  Saying it like that made it sound easy. As if the growing rumbling from the commoner castes was not growing worse with each passing day. Meilin had been so much better at this. Her understanding of the psychology of the Bai peoples had been much more visceral than his. It would be difficult to quell the spread of further xenophobic sentiment, particularly as the more conservative white serpents fanned the flames.

  But he had not remained behind doing this work just to falter as the end approached. His daughter was coming into her own, and Bai Suzhen would soon take her own final steps. He only needed to work for a little longer yet. A worthless father this old man was, but he would make sure that Bai Meilin’s work remained ready for her daughter.

  Threads 209-Opening Day 7

  Ling Qi sat quietly on the far left side of the slowly filling seats in the testing hall, the picture of a proper young lady getting some soft meditation in while waiting for the qualifying tests of the crafting competition to begin. In reality, she was peering into the contents of her storage ring at everything she had just received, and in her mind’s eye, she turned over page after neatly written page of documents and dossiers.

  Once, she had trouble even retrieving things from her ring. Now, with her experiences stepping between the bounds of the physical and unreal and her adventure in the broken storage space of the Hui, it was simple enough to outright manipulate the objects within.

  Sixiang mused.

  There definitely was. Just the list of potential contacts and the attached information could have filled one of Cai Renxiang’s law books. Each suggestion carried with it a detailed biopic, habits and flaws, points of leverage both hard and soft, considerations for the best approach, and more. Those, she set aside. Cultivating acquaintances across the province was more of a long term project.

  They were all fairly lowly placed, she noted. Servants, guards, and bureaucrats accounted for most of the contacts. She supposed that Hou Zhuang didn’t want her to get overconfident and go for higher ranking contacts right away.

  The rest though, a breakdown of the Emerald Seas situation with accompanying maps and notes was more immediately useful. Much of it came to her easily, building off the coalescing understanding she had been gaining of the various factions from her own efforts. She saw the province divided on a map not by the territories of counts but by regions, although the two sometimes overlapped.

  These were what Hou Zhuang believed were the dividing lines of the lower clans, and scanning through his information, she didn’t think he was wrong. The Emerald Seas was of middling size for a province, but it still covered a diverse landscape from the northern hills and forests at the foot of the Celestial Peaks through the fens in the west to the dry plains in the east, and down to the rolling hills which eventually rose into the Wall. Its main throughline was the River Jing, the Shining River, whose headwaters came from the glaciers in the Wall and which flowed all the way through the Thousand Lakes to empty into the ocean on the other side of the continent.

  Under this conception, the lower clans of the Emerald Seas could be divided into eight geographic and cultural regions.

  The Celestial Hills, a thin slice of the far north on the border of the capital, saw themselves as little different from their neighbors a few score miles north in the Peaks.

  Below them was the North Jing river valley, which encompassed most of the Bao lands and which abutted the part of the great continent-spanning river until it flowed into the Thousand Lakes.

  Then, there were the Western Fens, the core of the Meng’s territory, where the Red Jungle met the woodlands of the Emerald Seas.

  The Central Valley Region where the Diao reigned, whose southern edge she had visited with Hanyi, was the heartland of the province.

  East of that was the Southern Jing river region where the Jia clan was concentrated in what had been the lands of the Chu before Ogodei.

  Beyond that was a long stretch going from the Celestial Peaks down to the Wall in the south. These were the Eastern Plains, the dry and grassy plains where the Emerald Seas bordered the Golden Fields province.

  The Foundations, the still sparsely settled lands in the south where she had spent the last year, encompassed the Wang territories, the Argent Peak and Blue Mountain Sects and the southern gains of the Meng.

  A small region was marked out as the Thundering Hills, named after its many waterfalls, as well as the site where Ogodei had died, which caused a great deal of extra rainfall in the region. It was the other half of the Jia’s territory, along with the Rushing Cloud Sect.

  She’d have to confirm the information herself, but she, or rather her liege, was doing well in the south at least. The people of the Foundations and the Thundering Hills, being so often the ones to suffer in the wars which plagued the province, were both favorable to their project. Opinions of their project were less and less favorable the further north when asked.

  “Hoh, Lady Ling, there you are! I might have missed you if not for the chill!” Wang Chao’s boisterous voice cut through the more polite background noise of the gathering audience, and she looked up to see him approaching along the aisle to her right.

  “Hello, Sir Wang,” she greeted. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


  “Of course not.” He dropped himself into a seat to her right, impervious to the glances of the nobles around him. “Ah, but I’m looking forward to viewing our juniors’ efforts!”


  “I admit I was surprised,” Ling Qi said. “I didn’t think you would have such an interest in the crafters. Or is it for our other guest’s sake?”


  “I thought the Xuan might enjoy it, yes,” Wang Chao said with a grin, seemingly pleased with himself for the deduction. “But I respect this kind of work. I’ve not the head nor the hands for it, but it's the crafters of the Empire who take the spoils of our victories and make them something worthwhile. You can bash in the skulls of beasts and barbarians all day, but if no one is able to put up the gates and walls, you’ll be bashing forever.”


  “I hadn’t thought of it from that perspective,” Ling Qi said. “My arts are even more ephemeral, so I cannot look down on them either.”


  “Everyone’s got their place,” Wang Chao said indulgently. “Living would be dull without artists, eh?”


  “I suppose it would be,” Ling Qi allowed.

  The disciples were beginning to file into the testing area. Her eyes fell on Xuan Shi making his way in with the last trickles of the crowd. Their eyes met over the distance, and he nodded, beginning to head her way. A glance over didn’t reveal anything wrong.

  Sixiang grumped.

  “Greetings, Lord of Wang, Lady of Ling,” Xuan Shi said lowly, approaching them along the aisle. “My apologies. This one was kept for some time in conversation with the faces of my kin.”


  Ling Qi deciphered his words quickly, but Wang Chao’s brows drew together, and she spotted his lips moving, mumbling under his breath. His expression thankfully brightened up a moment later.

  “No trouble, Sir Xuan. Family must come first,” he said enthusiastically. “Take a seat, take a seat.”


  Ling Qi smiled at Xuan Shi. “I am glad you could make it.”


  Xuan Shi took a seat beside Wang Chao, giving her a small nod. “The invitation pleases me. Miss Ling is too kind.”


  “She hardly needed to convince me,” Wang Chao said cheerfully. “Why, just imagine the wargames we can play out with the assistance of your mobile barrier projects!”


  “Sir Wang is familiar?” Xuan Shi asked curiously.

  “Well, don’t ask me about specifics, but I’ve heard of the effects,” the older boy said. “Masterful work from what I hear. Such a sturdy defense combined with versatility and mobility! If you weren’t a Xuan, I suspect the White Plumes or the Sect would have you drafted already! The things that could be done with such talismans!”


  “My work is only a reflection of the craft of my elders, the master shipbuilders of the Isles. It is nothing so grand,” Xuan Shi said. She could tell despite his collar and tipped hat that he was caught off guard by Wang Chao’s enthusiastic and blunt praise.

  “Sect Brother Xuan’s work did show quite a lot of promise,” Ling Qi said. “I recall you using it to keep up with us at full sprint, even while you deflected attacks.”


  “Such speed as well?” Wang Chao asked, astonished. “I’d like to see that.”


  “Thy praise is too much,” Xuan Shi demurred. “Mine panopoly is difficult to assemble, and its reagents rare. The heights of its performance are only possible with the modified arts of a ship’s captain. In a way, this one has simply transferred the knowledge of a hullmaker to the land.”


  Ling Qi hummed doubtfully at that. She had seen the fitted ceramic panels of his masterwork, reacting as swiftly as his own limbs and hands. She suspected that Xuan Shi was being reflexively self-deprecating, but she didn’t know enough of the subject to truly call him on it.

  “Ah, well, one would expect so,” Wang Chao said. “Still, it has potential. Even a few ‘land ships’ could be useful. I’ve heard some of my uncles and aunts speak of something similar.”


  “Ah? Convergent development? Interesting,” Xuan Shi mused.

  Conversation ceased as the elder monitoring the test came forth. It was Elder Hua Su again, the teacher from her first year, but last year had not been overly kind to her. Then again, her father, Elder Heng, had passed away, even before the war had started.

  Ling Qi remained silent as the elder spoke in front of the gathered disciples and audience. The written preliminary exam had already been held, and now came the practical portion in which disciples would complete a number of tasks from elixir brewing to ward crafting to ensure that they had a baseline of competence in all major disciplines.

  As the elder started this portion of the testing, Ling Qi noticed that Xuan Shi was looking at one disciple in particular. She followed his gaze to a broad back swathed in Argent Peak Sect’s silver. The disciple in question was a tall, broad-shouldered young man with long wavy brown hair and slightly sun-darkened skin. He wore a pair of spectacles on his handsome face, whose frames were made of some colorful organic shell material. His robe was very conservative, but the sash that bound it tight around him was highly colorful and woven of colorful shells. Ling Qi was starting to sense a theme.

  She saw the disciple meet Xuan Shi’s gaze and offer a beatific smile. She froze when his sea green eyes turned briefly to her, studying her for a moment in curiosity. He was very handsome, a good balance between the bulk of someone like Gan Guangli or Lao Keung and the aristocratic type like Han Jian. Ling Qi blinked a moment after that thought completed, frowning as she circulated her qi to dispel anything untoward. The crafter turned back to his workstation.

  Sixiang scoffed. Ling Qi could feel them rolling their eyes……

  It didn’t matter.

  “Is there a particular junior you have your eye on, Sect Brother?” Ling Qi asked Xuan Shi.

  “Apologies. This one is merely being cautious of the trouble,” Xuan Shi said. “The Jin bring disruption wherever they walk or sail.”


  “Is that the other ducal scion I’d heard about?” Wang Chao asked. “I’ve never seen one of his kin before. Rather plain, isn’t he?”


  “The Jin have long abandoned the blood of their ancestors,” Xuan Shi said stiffly.

  A question about the Jin was on the tip of her tongue before Ling Qi reconsidered. Her goal right now was to ingratiate Wang Chao with Xuan Shi and vice versa. Wang Chao needed more prominent connections, Xuan Shi needed more friends, and she wanted her acquaintances to be happy.

  Threads 210-Opening Day 8

  “What was it you were saying about convergent development?” Ling Qi redirected the conversation. “I’m not very familiar with the more advanced fields of formations.”


  “Fortress formations are a different school from vehicle formations,” Xuan Shi explained, turning his gaze away from the Jin disciple.

  “They’ve got some common points,” Wang Chao said, nodding sagely. “Both are assembled from smaller discrete parts, which must be arranged in the proper patterns to function as a whole.”


  “.…… Yes,” Xuan Shi agreed. “A parallel not often explored. Your clan has solved the issue of the Tribulation of Earth’s Law on land vehicles?”


  “The what now?” Wang Chao asked. “Oh, I don’t rightly know. It’s just something I’ve heard talked about.”


  Ling Qi saw Xuan Shi frowning behind his collar. She interjected, “I admit, I’m not familiar either, but even if the higher theory is beyond us, talking about what might be done with such projects is interesting. You said you were working off inspiration. What was it?”


  Xuan Shi didn’t reply right away, drumming his fingers on his armrest. “The point at which crew enhancing and hull enhancing arrays meet. Both are complex and require processing of information far beyond the usual. It was my thought then that it might be possible to build a hull around a man and achieve higher performance.”


  “Crew enhancing arrays?” Wang Chao inquired.”Like a foreman’s arts?”


  “Of a kind,” Xuan Shi replied. “These are of a more mechanical nature.”


  “How might this work? A laborer or a sailor would lack the qi and meridians to take advantage of such things. They would be trapped in their ‘hull,’” Wang Chao said with a frown.

  “As this one said, a work in progress.” Xuan Shi shrugged. “The people of the Savage Seas are not prolific, and our lands are not spacious. We must find measures to maintain parity as others grow.”


  “Never enough people to do all the work,” Wang Chao commiserated. “Yes, this is a problem for the Wang as well. Many have tried to sell us on construct workforces, but the cost is too high. A useful work puppet drinks stones like water.”


  “It is this one’s hope to enhance the individual rather than replace them, that two men of the early realms might do the work of three, or even mortals made useful in the lowest of cultivator labors,” Xuan Shi elaborated, looking back to the tests. “With such conditions, even this one might be able to attain a crew and commission.”


  “Well, I don’t know about that, but if you manage, I’d bet the elders would be happy to purchase as many as you could make!” Wang Chao laughed, only to shrink into his seat as a number of older cultivators shot them stern looks.

  Xuan Shi chuckled. “Sir Wang is too generous. The fancies sketched in a crafter’s workshop are only that.”


  Ling Qi listened with half an ear as the two of them continued to talk. It looked like things were going as she’d hoped. She’d worried that if Xuan Shi saw Wang Chao’s lack of technical understanding, he would think himself merely humored. Instead, the initial awkwardness was past, and now, they were talking comfortably, even if Wang Chao occasionally had to pause and scrunch up his face in thought to decipher some turn of phrase by Xuan Shi.

  She turned a portion of her attention to the tests themselves. She watched the disciples mixing ingredients, etching arrays, and inscribing characters. It was admirable to see such dedication. It made her feel bad for her own lackadaisical approach to the art.

  Sixiang thought.

  She supposed so. She was looking forward to studying the compass and the ring gates more closely, now that she had some more experience with liminal interfaces.

  Ling Qi scanned the workstations, pausing as her eyes fell on a face she recognized. In the back was Liu Xin, Xiao Fen’s friend from the Outer Sect. She glanced over his work. His elixir was simmering, and the paper ward tags drying. Right now, he was squinting down at a dagger blade with an inscribing tool. It looked to her like he was in line to finish the projects in the time limit.

  “Miss Ling, what do you think?” Wang Chao asked.

  Ling Qi paused a moment, letting Sixiang pull up the memory of the last few seconds in her mind to remind her of what had been said. “If my schedule allows, I wouldn’t be against it. Something of a break from formality would be welcome.”


  Wang Chao had suggested an informal get-together outside the tournament grounds to have a small spar.

  “I have no particular duties beyond attending the Duchess’ appearances,” Xuan Shi mused.

  “Her Grace intends a gathering tonight and on the evening before the finals,” Ling Qi said. “I can manage a few hours tomorrow afternoon.”


  “Great,” Wang Chao enthused, looking pleased with himself. “But let’s see how our juniors are doing. I don’t want to be too rude.”


  Ling Qi struggled for just a moment to keep a straight face as they turned their attention back to the testing.

  Sixiang thought.

  Ling Qi thought that this was the end of her direct role. Introducing the two of them and smoothing over an initial misunderstanding was one thing, but she remembered what Xuan Shi had said before as well. She was, in the end, just his friend, not a parent or a caretaker. It would be insulting to meddle too much.

  Sixiang huffed.

  Ling Qi would mediate where she could, naturally. That was acceptable for a mutual friend.

  They spoke less for the rest of the test. Here and there, Wang Chao would prod at Xuan Shi for an explanation for something he saw the examinees doing, and although he was initially reticent, Wang Chao’s easy acceptance and praise for his explanations seemed to make it hard for Xuan Shi to maintain that, especially when Wang Chao occasionally came up with some insight on practical applications of the things Xuan Shi spoke of. Ling Qi kept herself to small comments here and there when conversation trailed off or became awkward.

  Their conversation dropped entirely when the test came to its end and it was time for Elder Su to do the judging. Listening to the elder critique and grade the products of each disciple was more interesting. By the end, about two-thirds of the test entrants had been whittled away. Liu Xin was among those who passed. As stoic as she was, Ling Qi thought Xiao Fen would be upset if he failed.

  The Jin scion passed as well. When she heard his name from Elder Su, she filed away the name Jin Tae. She had a feeling she’d see him again sooner or later. Members of ducal houses were never irrelevant.

  And with that, the preliminary tests for the crafting competition were finished.

  “I can’t say I’m unhappy to see the tests done,” Wang Chao said, stretching his arms overhead as they made their way out.

  Ling Qi smiled, covering her mouth with her sleeve. “But Sir Wang, I had thought you were eager to observe.”


  “Well, I mean—” Wang Chao stammered, scratching the back of his head and glancing toward Xuan Shi.

  Xuan Shi chuckled. “This one appreciates the consideration, Sir Wang, but will admit that the conversation of peers was more interesting. The presentation of personal projects is the true draw.”


  Wang Chao squinted at both of them over his shoulder and let out a harrumph. “Hmph, I’d not think you the type for japes, Miss Ling.”


  “Only now and then,” she said soothingly. “Besides, it was a good venue to make an acquaintance, wasn’t it, Xuan Shi?”


  “Sir Wang’s company was enough. This one is glad to be invited to thy shoal,” Xuan Shi replied.

  Wang Chao puffed up at the praise. “No worries. I’m glad to include such an intelligent fellow as yourself, Sir Xuan! It’s not all grunting warriors in my entourage.”


  “I should hope not,” Ling Qi said lightly as they left the sect pagoda and entered the main plaza, descending the steps.

  “Miss Ling’s elegance is without question,” Wang Chao said immediately. “Ah, that does remind me, I’d intended to introduce you to my older sister Wang Lian like you’d asked, but she—”


  “— was kept late in deliberations with our father. I still heard your message, Chao.”


  Ling Qi stopped, looking toward the source of the voice. She saw a stout woman with sun-darkened skin and dark brown hair tied back in a severe bun. She wore a dark blue gown with a somewhat mannish cut, embroidered with stylized mountains and whorling clouds. Ling Qi could see the resemblance to Wang Chao in the color of her eyes and the general bulk of her frame, although like her brother, she was shorter than Ling Qi by nearly a head.

  “Oh, Sister Lian!” Wang Chao exclaimed, his expression brightening up. “I’d been concerned! This is Lady Ling. We’ve built quite a little court!”


  “Your letters said as much.” The older woman gave Ling Qi an assessing look. She looked to be in her mid-twenties or so, but as a cultivator of the fourth realm, that was nearly meaningless.

  Beside her, Xuan Shi shifted from foot to foot, clearly feeling out of place.

  “Allow me to borrow her for a moment, Chao,” Wang Lian said tersely. She glanced at Xuan Shi and lowered her head slightly. “Sir Xuan, I appreciate your keeping my brother company.”


  “It is nothing, Lady Wang,” Xuan Shi said, offering a short bow of his own.

  Ling Qi turned and murmured a temporary farewell to Wang Chao and Xuan Shi.

  “Thank you for your time, Lady Wang,” Ling Qi said as they stepped away, moving toward the stairs which descended from the plaza.

  “It’s a small enough thing considering how Chao’s fortunes have improved this year,” Wang Lian said. “Let it be said that I do not have much time right now. I merely wished to make my greetings. Deeper talks will have to wait until after the Duchess’ arrival tonight.”


  “I see,” Ling Qi said. “I understand if I am not the highest priority.”


  “It’s not that. Father has been tapped by the Matriarch to reinforce local security,” Wang Lian said. “I am assisting him.”


  Ling Qi hummed in reply. That did make some sense. She had dismissed the idea, thinking that attacking such a concentration of high realm cultivators impossibly foolish, but even a disruption of the event could have some effect on morale.

  “So, I am Wang Lian, third daughter of the Clan Head of Wang. You are Baroness Ling, who has provided my little brother with a great deal of assistance. You are also the retainer to the heiress of Cai, who has taken on a project many say is beyond her. What is it you want from the Wang clan, Baroness? Our building expertise, our support in word, the backing of our warriors?”


  “Any or all of those things would be most welcome,” Ling Qi replied. “But I do not wish to overstep myself.”


  Wang Lian nodded, her arms folded behind her back as she walked. “Yes, a favor for a favor is most fair. So, tell me what sort of aid you seek.”


  Threads 211-Opening Day 9

  “I should think the answer is obvious then,” Ling Qi said. “The renown of the Wang clan is known far and wide.”


  Wang Lian nodded once. “Good. I had hoped you would choose that.”


  They began to descend the many steps which led to the foot of the mountain, carved alongside the wide road made for carriages. “Will there be trouble, you think? It’s likely that what Her Grace claims and what we will build upon will abutt Wang lands.”


  “It will be good for Her Grace to take more for the Cai,” Wang Lian replied. “Too much of the Hui land was divided. As for the Wang clan, do not concern yourself. It will be a millennia before we can expand.”


  “If you don’t mind the question, why is that?” Ling Qi asked. “It seems such an uncommon attitude.”


  “We do not have the men to hold more,” Wang Lian explained shortly.

  “I do not think that is the whole reason,” Ling Qi observed. “Those with power are rarely content with what they have.”


  She worried for a moment that she had overstepped herself when Wang Lian did not reply, and she had just begun to formulate an apology when she saw the older woman’s shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

  “I forget already,” Wang Lian said with mirth, “what it is to be young. There is more to ambition than lifting larger weights, killing more foes, and painting maps. Of course we want more, but why should we need to go out and conquer for that?”


  “I overstepped myself,” Ling Qi said. “I apologize. I simply want to better understand the Wang clan’s thinking.”


  Wang Lian’s humor faded as they paused on a landing that interrupted the steps. It was a shaded nook unde a pair of trees with a stone bench beneath them. “You know, no doubt, that our matriarch was an architect in the service of the Hui before she joined Her Grace’s rebellion. But I think you do not understand. Do you know of the practice we have in our clan for those who will achieve the higher realms?”


  “I do not,” Ling Qi admitted.

  “Before we depart to find our first Names and set the foundations of our Way, we are brought before the Matriarch,” Wang Lian said, her eyes drifting shut. “There, we are shown her vision. I can’t describe it to you, not fully, but it is the vision of a far greater future, of teeming cities carved into the mountains, stretching over the rivers, filling the forests, not in the rigid imperial style or the outdated traditions of the past, but something that is both of them, made better in the fusion. People are the engines of prosperity and growth. Where they gather, they sharpen one another, and greater heights are reached. So much of that has been wasted in the Emerald Seas in pointlessly grabbing at lands when we had scarcely made use of what we already had.”


  She spoke with absolute confidence, and for a moment, Ling Qi felt a shadow in her mind, the silhouette of a mountain gleaming with the lights of a city from top to bottom, spilling out into the gentle hills and valleys at its foot, following the natural lines of the land.

  Sixiang thought.

  “We build, Miss Ling, and there is already so much of the Emerald Seas to be built yet,” Wang Lian finished.

  “That is why you take in Cloud Nomads,” Ling Qi realized. “Someone must fill those cities, and few wish to come so far south.”


  “Nomads are human,” Wang Lian grunted. “We may be called fools for that, but it is true. A man is a man. He may be valorous or cowardly, cruel or kind. The young and the willing can be taught the proper ways of living and cultivation, and we can take their strengths for ourselves. It is as simple as that. Your White Sky seems to understand that as well. A hopeful outlook.”


  “I understand,” Ling Qi said as they resumed walking.

  “Perhaps you do, but my time is running short,” Wang Lian said. “Is there anything else you wish to speak to me about?”


  Ling Qi had a brief internal consultation with Sixiang. They agreed that Wang Lian’s mood was good so they could push a little more for information. “I have some curiosity about the Black Lotus Pass. What is the trouble there?”


  “Aside from it being a nest of the unquiet dead?” Wang Lian harrumphed. “Thrice looted, first by Ogodei, then by the desperate of the resisting warriors Yuan had gathered, and last by the vultures in the war’s aftermath. It is no wonder that the dead there are enraged.”


  “Sect Head Yuan would do such a thing?” Ling Qi asked, startled.

  Wang Lian grimaced. “I do not mean him ill, and his wife was Li besides. If anyone had a claim, it is her and by extension, him. But war does not leave the time for proper mourning and purification rites, and the dead do not understand extenuating circumstances.”


  “I see,” Ling Qi said, mulling that over. “I had come to understand that the problem was not just the expense of the exorcism needed.”


  “It was considered Hui land after Ogodei,” Wang Lian said. “After that ceased to mean something, there were some…… squabbles. The Diao and the Wang alike both claim some legacy of the Li through marriages. Ours is the better; the Matriarch’s second cousin had a Li grandfather. The Diao need to go back some four generations to find theirs. It is not worth a great conflict, but one cannot simply abandon a point of pride either.”


  Ling Qi felt an unpleasant aching. If the Wang or the Diao truly claimed the fallen Li as kin, surely they would want them laid to proper rest. It took some effort to stop herself from saying that aloud. “Thank you for your explanation, Lady Wang.”


  The older woman gave her a side-eyed look, but grunted in the affirmative. If she wondered at Ling Qi’s goals, she didn’t voice her questions. They stayed there on the stairs a moment longer before Wang Lian spoke again.

  “I have a question for you, Baroness.”


  “I will answer as well as I can,” Ling Qi said politely

  “What are your intentions toward my brother?” Wang Lian asked, not looking at her.

  Ling Qi blinked. Sixiang wheezed. “He is a dependable ally and no more. Even if I had an interest, I would not presume above my station,” Ling Qi said, her words rushed.

  “The Bao do not see your station that way.” Wang Lian huffed. “A shame, nonetheless. Chao is a simple man. He needs a canny sort at his side, and the Cai would not have taken you if you were the wrong sort of canny. But I am not in the habit of pushing these types of things. I don’t suppose you’ve noticed him showing an interest elsewhere?”


  Ling Qi did her best not to seem off-balance. “Not particularly, no… Maybe Alingge?” Ling Qi offered hesitantly. “He was eager to include her in the spars.”


  The older woman squinted into the distance. “The girl from the old tribes in Luo lands? Hmph, my little brother is odd. I’ll have time to observe for myself. I’m sure you’ve noticed Chao is not good at hiding things.”


  “I have sought not to take advantage.”


  “Of course you haven’t,” Wang Lian said without inflection. “Regardless, I need to take my leave now. I look forward to speaking in detail on your plans later, Baroness.”


  LIng Qi bowed her head as the woman beside her lost definition, stilling and then losing color, becoming no more than a pillar of featureless earth. Even that then broke down, dissolving into a cloud of drifting dust. Ling Qi raised her sleeve, shielding her mouth and nose as it disappeared.

  Ling Qi waited a moment to be sure she was alone then burst out irritably, “Why in the world does this keep coming up?”


  “Cause it’s a big part of the human experience, I gather,” Sixiang said dryly. “Honestly, we gotta talk sometime, Ling Qi.”


  “This isn’t the time for matchmaking,” Ling Qi deflected.

  “Nah, it isn’t,” Sixiang agreed easily. When they spoke again, it was inside her head.

  She wouldn’t put it like that. It was more like checking to make sure they were getting along.

  Sixiang snickered.

  Ling Qi rolled her eyes and reappeared back on the landing, skipping a half dozen steps with each blink as she returned to the main plaza.

  She found Wang Chao and Xuan Shi standing in the shade of one of the trees planted in the miniature gardens that dotted the plaza, deep in conversation. The two of them looked up at her approach.

  “Miss Ling! I was just discussing with Sir Xuan what sort of activity he thought would be the most entertaining when we got together tomorrow.”


  “This one did not feel it was correct to come to a decision without one of the participants,” Xuan Shi said.

  “Right, we need your input! I was thinking we could have a competition between us to see whether I might break his defense before you could bypass them or if Sir Xuan could keep us both out for an allotted time,” Wang Chao proposed, grinning excitedly.

  Ling Qi tilted her head to the side, considering. “That does actually sound fun.”


  Moons knew she was probably going to need an opportunity to relax by tomorrow afternoon. Her Grace would soon arrive, and tomorrow, she would be back to attending the Bai. Stepping into the shade with the two of them, Ling Qi began to ask for the details of the game.

  A glance to the north where a growing star gleamed in the darkening sky told her time was short.

  ***

  “So, tomorrow afternoon, there will be a small gathering I will be attending,” Ling Qi relayed. “We decided that it would be best to invite a few others from our training group for propriety's sake, but we will be keeping it small.”


  “My, though you have managed to look elegant, you are still quite boy-ish, Ling Qi,” Meizhen teased, a faint upward curve on her lips. “Organizing such play during an event like this…”


  “It does no harm. Many disciples seek a moment away from the gaze of so many elders and high cultivators,” Cai Renxiang said calmly. “In this, I believe it gives an air of approachability rather than irresponsibility.”


  “If you believe that would be the Emerald Seas’ view of the matter,” Meizhen said more seriously.

  The three of them stood to one side of the vast pavilion of the Cai, shrouded from eavesdropping by the combined screening effects of their arts. The Duchess had arrived, and the pavilion was abuzz with the preparations for her entrance.

  “I do. Is it your view that the Bai will view it more negatively?” Cai Renxiang asked.

  Bai Meizhen pursed her lips. “As your left hand, I think Ling Qi’s less formal choices can be viewed as cunning rather than irreverence.”


  “Well, if that is how you want to sell it,” Ling Qi said with a small smile. “What do you think of the ambassador?”


  “I think she is solidly loyal to my aunt,” her friend analyzed. “However, she still has the pride of a White Serpent.”


  “Have I caused you trouble in requesting this conversation?” Cai Renxiang asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “No. My connection to you is my primary value here,” Meizhen replied. “Although the ambassador is generous enough in her way, I get the impression that she genuinely wishes to teach me her trade. But be aware that she still disdains outsiders as lesser than us.”


  “Unavoidable,” Renxiang said with a small frown. “Still, she does not show it, and that is the best that can be expected for now. It will take time for those attitudes to change.”


  These types of statements said a lot for the mindset of her friend’s clan as a whole, Ling Qi supposed. “What does she think of the alliance?”


  Meizhen grimaced. “I cannot say. Her personal thoughts are opaque to me. I will reiterate that she must be highly loyal to my aunt to have gained this position and thus, at least in favor of her policies.”


  “That will have to be enough,” Renxiang said.

  “Were you able to discover what kept Her Grace?” Meizhen asked.

  “I was rebuffed from her presence,” Renxiang said unhappily. "But… my sister has been brought, along with her entourage.”


  Ling Qi’s eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline. “Why? This is practically in the zone of the war. Why would she risk…”


  She trailed off. The only thing that made sense was that the Duchess felt Tienli was safer with her than in Xiangmen, which meant…


  “It is possible there is some threat of assassins, who might be willing to strike while the light of Xiangmen is away,” Renxiang said. “I think it would be best if we remained well alerted.”


  Meizhen took a deep breath. “Agreed.

  “Agreed,” Ling Qi echoed. After all, the Shishigui were quite good at that sort of thing. However, another thought occurred. “Will you go to visit your sister then?”


  “.…… I do not see the purpose. Children that young do not retain much of their experiences,” Renxiang deflected. Ling Qi could feel that her liege was being evasive.

  “I think it would be good to at least meet her,” Ling Qi said firmly.

  “Hm,” Renxiang said, not agreeing or disagreeing. “Our time is running short. We should prepare for our part in her arrival.”


  “Yes,” Meizhen agreed, shooting Ling Qi a look. “Renxiang, Qi, I wish you well.”


  Threads 212-Second Day 1

  It was nerve-wracking, Ling Qi found, to stand up on the great stage erected at the rear of the pavilion.

  Cai Renxiang’s father had certainly made a spectacle of the place. The high ephemeral walls of cloth and silk seemed to float without support, descending in elegant curves like arches here and there to expose a slice of the glittering night sky and moon. Below, guests walked, lounged, and spoke amidst the sprawling but orderly garden he had arranged, lit by orbs which glowed with soft dusk sunlight. The marble tiles of the floor gleamed like diamonds, and the rainbows cast by the mist of the fountain were beautiful beyond compare between the greenery and flowers. It made her own efforts with Zhengui seem rustic and childish.

  She stood with the White Plumes and other supporting individuals at the back of the stage, soldiers and courtiers all, but she still felt as if the gaze of the world was upon her. It must have been worse for Cai Renxiang standing directly under the gaze of the guests, at attention with her arms folded behind her back, the young heiress’ halo of radiance providing a steady light.

  Then, the Duchess came, and her presence obliterated all others. She appeared at the center of the stage in a beam of light, her silhouette and that of the Prime Minister blooming like flowers within the radiance.

  Cai Shenhua remained, as ever, unmistakeable. Her dark hair was cut short this day at sharp angles that framed her face, black and unornamented. Her gown was relatively modest. Ling Qi thought the style was called a qipao, its hems and seams forming intricate crimson knotwork that contrasted with the white. Still, it hugged her frame far too tightly and left her athletic arms bare.

  Comparatively, the Prime Minister, Diao Linqin, seemed tiny and overshadowed. Her wavy brown hair was arranged in a single braid that fell across the chest of her rose pink, conservative gown.

  “Worthies of the Empire, Lords of the Emerald Seas, let me offer my belated welcome to the lands of the Argent Peak Sect.” The Duchess’ voice was warm and welcoming, the light of the burning radiance in her eyes brightening the whole interior of the pavilion. Her presence crushed down like the weight of a mountain. “My late arrival was intended as no insult. It was merely a matter of safety. The health of a child is nothing to risk casually.”


  Cai Shenhua paused for a beat, allowing her words to finish echoing. “Yes, such is my confidence in the Lords of the South and the Argent Peak Sect that it was decided that my second daughter, Cai Tienli, will be safe here for the duration of this tournament. She is healthy and unblemished and deserves a chance to know her sibling.”


  She allowed a moment of agreeable murmuring from the crowd. Ling Qi did her best not to stare at her liege’s back too much, wondering what she was thinking. It felt unsettling to hear the usually languid Cai Shenhua speaking with formality and fervor.

  “It pleases me to know that my loyal lords and the elders of the Great Sect have taken to this newest campaign with such vigor that this is possible. Already, foundations are being laid in the lands where the barbarians have been pushed back. Sect Head Yuan has made superb use of my White Plumes along with his own forces. Soon, new baronies and villages will fill the hills, bringing further civilization to the Wall. I myself will join this campaign in the coming year. The cloud tribes will never be allowed to threaten the people of the Emerald Seas again as Ogodei did. Long have I set about putting my own house in order. Now, the time comes to deal with the vandals upon the lawn.”


  The older cultivator nodded once, and then was gone. No beam of light or swirling shadow, just ceasing to exist. The air did not even move to fill the space their body had left. It felt as if it had never been disturbed in the first place.

  She wondered what Sixiang made of them.

  Sixiang responded.

  They weren’t human? Ling Qi wondered. Knowing imperial law, she doubted even Shenhua could have a spirit treated like a human.

  Sixiang chided.

  Threads 213-Friend and Foe 2

  Ling Qi pondered about Shu Yue as she rejoined the party. A follower of an older cultivation method? She wouldn’t have thought such a person would be so close to the Duchess.

  She moved through the party for a time, engaging in small talk about the tournament, the plans Renxiang and she were making, and more personal matters. There was less of that this year though. It seemed that she had begun to scare away lesser marriage offerings.

  All the while, she kept an eye out. And when the shishigui “envoy” stood alone, she excused herself from her chat with the daughter of a central viscount over the clothing of the southern people. She didn’t spy anyone else seeking to speak with the shishigui on the way. It seemed that interest in this strange “prize” was used up at the moment. Approaching, she made sure not to reflexively hide her aura, not wanting to startle the White Plume guards.

  “I greet you, honored one.” The shishigui spoke first as she approached, its hunched back twisting awkwardly to allow it to bow. It spoke clearly in the imperial tongue, sounding like an old woman, creaky and tired. “How might this humble one address you?”


  Sixiang murmured.

  She held back a grimace at the muse’s prodding. No matter if this shishigui’s presence made her gut churn, if it made her think of her mother’s face, pale and drawn, or if it reminded her of people never emerging from the tunnels, this one was not from the same… city.

  It wasn’t fair to judge it—her—any more than it was fair to judge Ilsur for the actions of the barbarians which attacked the Sect. She studied the shishigui in silence for a moment, listening to the faint dry wheezing of her breath as the air bladders on her helmet shrank and grew.

  “You may call me Baroness Ling. The Duchess said you were called Tcho-Ri. Is this a title or a name?”


  “It is both,” said Tcho-Ri. “Tcho means Mouth of the God. This is my role in the conclave. Ri is my personal name.”


  “And how have you come to speak so?”


  Ling Qi thought that all sounded rather unwieldy and unworkable. “What if a Voice lies about what they think the will is?”


  “How can one who has connected themselves to the Mind of God lie?” Tcho-Ri asked, earnestly baffled. “Or do you speak of deception in the debate after?”


  “I suppose.”


  “This is a problem, a rot in a community, but all communities have degrees of decay. One must be vigilant and surgical in its excisement. This one understands your league had this problem and solved it with the incarnation of your god.”


  That was… not totally wrong, Ling Qi had to admit, but it was definitely incorrect in the details. She glanced behind her and met the eyes of a Bao man with a jeweled cup in his hands. He smiled at her and gave a nod, but she got the impression he was waiting for her to finish. She would need to wrap this up soon.

  Threads 214-Friend and Foe 3

  There was one more thing she needed to ask, if she was to wrap her head around these creatures as something more than foes.

  “When I infiltrated…” Ling Qi paused. “You implied that Ya-lith-kai is seven cities. Does this make them a league? Is your own a league with its three cities?”


  “My people are only a city made of three communities, three hearts in harmony, following the will of the god whose spoken name is Ha from the time of migration,” Tcho-Ri replied. “We are not a league. They are seven whole cities who once followed different faces of Ya, but they reached a consensus to make him one. They are a league and are at the limits of consensus. A great league requires that multiple gods remain and form a pantheon, a community of gods.”


  Ling Qi nodded, thankful for the elaboration. “When I infiltrated one of the component cities of our foes, I heard laborers speaking of pack and family and the need to ‘awaken’ pups, which I assume are children. My question is: what is family to your people? How do you raise your children and organize your households?”


  Her conversation partner fell silent, and Ling Qi waited for a polite beat even as the faint hum of the ith-ia’s suit increased. The White Plume guards flanking Tcho-Ri glanced her way as she let out a pained hiss. “Why do you wish to know this?”


  Ling Qi held back a wince, understanding only a moment later that such a question might seem rather threatening given… She tried to ignore why it might seem threatening. “Kinship and community are important to me. I cannot understand you if I do not understand this.”


  Labored breathing resulted. “Family—pack—is the smallest unit of consensus. Individuals who find contentment or joy in one another, joining in ceremony and blood…… This is a blood-pack. This is not the same as work packs, those joined by their common labors, which are often composed of many blood packs.”


  “So, it is not a male and a female joining together for the sake of children?”


  “A pack of two is very small,” Tcho-Ri said dubiously. “Young, perhaps. Three to five is common. Some blood-packs grow as large as ten. More is unhealthy in this one’s opinion. Individuals will have their needs untended with so many, but this is not a consensus. This one does not understand the relevance of male and female in this.”


  Ling Qi grimaced, feeling faintly mortified to have to speak of such things even obliquely. “Well, you need a man and a woman to create children, so…”


  “Wait, what? Go back to that first thing,” Ling Qi interrupted. She was going to be allowed to visit the new Cai?

  “I am not going alone,” her liege said stiffly, fingers tightening around her cup.

  “I see,” Meizhen said. “I suppose the security must be sufficient that there is no threat from a third realm.”


  They all fell silent at that, the air growing more solemn as the consideration of what could have brought an unprotected infant outside the fortress of Xiangmen settled in.

  “Yes,” Renxiang said, short and clipped. “This is above our heads.”


  Threads 215-Friend and Foe 4

  “Getting back to what’s in front of us, what do the other provinces think of our venture, Lady Renxiang?” Ling Qi asked.

  “As we suspected. The Zheng see it as a grand adventure. The Lakes are officially supportive but internally ambivalent,” Cai Renxiang replied.

  Meizhen tipped her head in apology. “The Duchess has sold it well, and her successful subjugation helps, but my kin do not easily approve of diplomacy.”


  Renxiang nodded faintly. “The Fields are ambivalent, of course, but the Capital and Sands have signaled some disapproval. I believe we may need to accommodate an imperial observer in our plans.”


  Ling Qi blinked and then frowned. That was unexpected. “The Throne does not consider this provincial business?”


  “The Throne has indicated that it has an interest in the matter,” Renxiang replied. “But it is still to allow the Duchess’ lead.”


  “Hmph. Absent when they are needed, ever present when unwanted,” Meizhen mocked.

  “D’you think they’ll send someone who will mess things up?” Sixiang asked.

  “I do not know,” Cai Renxiang said. “It is a factor we will have to account for.”


  “Well, we’ll work it out,” Ling Qi said with a frown. “What is the plan for tomorrow? I know our outline, but…”


  “As the junior generation, we will be leaving the adults to their business tomorrow,” Meizhen said. “We are expected to attend the tournament together. Trust building, of course. I would like your continued assistance in deciphering the intentions of my assigned subordinates.”


  “Just whose retainer is Ling Qi?” Renxiang asked over the rim of her cup.

  “Yours, although only because I let her go,” Meizhen teased.

  “I am sitting right here.” Ling Qi huffed.

  “So you are,” Meizhen said blithely. “What do you think of them by the by? Aside from your admiration of Lao Keung’s physique.”


  “Meizhen,” Ling Qi hissed. “Spirits, I wasn’t obvious, right?”


  “No, I just know you,” Meizhen replied smugly.

  “A match with the Thousand Lakes would not be terrible,” Renxiang mused. “It would have disadvantages over an internal match, but not insurmountable ones. There would be benefits to the alliance as well.”


  “Lady Renxiang,” Ling Qi complained, only to sigh. “I don’t have too much of a read yet; I’ve only known them for a few hours. Lao Keung has some resentment in him, but it is not personalized. Xia Anxi is very prideful, but he seems frightened of you, Meizhen.”


  “As is proper,” Xiao Fen said primly, breaking her silence.

  “Inevitable, but it does make things difficult if they will not speak plainly,” Meizhen said. “If I were to hint that I want you to be engaged with, which of the two do you prefer?”


  “Let me speak with Xia Anxi,” Ling Qi said after a moment’s thought. She wasn’t certain how genuine his interest had been, but it would be interesting to speak to a musician from such a distant tradition. Plus, she had paid more attention to the other Bai yesterday. It wouldn’t do to snub.

  “I will imply my interest in his assistance with keeping relations high then,” Meizhen said.

  “Why not just tell him?” Ling Qi asked, taking a drink from her slush-filled cup. She quite liked this. Maybe she should try it with other drinks? The texture of the ice was pleasant.

  “It is good to allow your subordinates to appear as if they are anticipating your desires,” Bai Meizhen replied. “It is a kindness for new members of my entourage, or so Lady Xilai says. I trust her experience in the matter.”


  “It is not an uncommon practice, though it is not my preference,” Cai Renxiang commented absently.

  “Good thing, else I’d have made a fool of myself,” Ling Qi quipped.

  “Indeed,” Cai Renxiang replied.

  The three of them shared a laugh. It was good to relax now while they were veiled from the public eye. Tomorrow, they will be back, and the theater of society will resume. Now though, they could simply be good friends.

  ***

  “The first match was at least a little interesting,” Lao Keung said, leaning against the railing which separated their box from the general crowd of the stands. “Good spearwork at least.”


  “Workmanlike at best,” Xia Anxi drawled. He remained in the seat beside her. It was actually funny how stubborn he was being in that regard. “Neither combatant had any real grace. But yes, an entertaining brawl.”


  Ling Qi nodded in agreement. Gun Jun had won, but it was a close thing.

  “The dedication of both combatants was admirable,” Bai Meizhen said. “I will not blame the Sect for the dullness of the second and third though. It was inevitable given the competition, just as my own first match was last year.”


  Bai Meizhen, Cai Renxiang, Lao Keung, and Xia Anxi all occupied this lower box with her today. They were essentially the Bai-Cai alliance junior division, as it were.

  Sixiang snickered.

  “A certain respect is deserved for Lady Bai,” Xia Anxi said. “But being expected does not make it any less dull.”


  Lu Feng’s match had just ended, and as expected, it was a swift one just as Gan Guangli’s before it had been. Third realms as advanced as they were against second realms… The best a second realm could expect was being allowed to show off some of their skills by their opponents.

  “I heard you went very soft on your opponent in the first match, Lady Bai,” Lao Keung said. It wasn’t quite a question like when he’d asked permission to stand instead of sit, but Ling Qi felt like he was probing at her friend.

  “Pain and fear are tools like any other,” Meizhen replied. “While the strength of the clan must be maintained, there is little purpose in terrorizing an individual whose only offense is poor fortune in a drawing. Using those tools in such a random way devalues their threat.”


  “I see. Thank you for explaining your reasoning, Lady Bai,” Lao Keung said.

  As they were having that conversation, Ling Qi observed Xia Anxi out of the corner of her eye, as he was doing to her.

  “This next one, you implied that you knew her?” he asked, drumming his slender fingers on the arm rest.

  “I fought her,” Ling Qi clarified, looking down to the arenas where Chu Song was now taking up a position opposite another older disciple. He was only an early green realm compared to her solid appraisal. “She was strong, but she lacked the flexibility to deal with me at that time.”


  “Unfortunate for her,” Xia Anxi said. “Is it true that she openly insulted your liege?”


  “Not so much at the tournament,” Ling Qi said. It was more that Ling Qi riled her up. “I may have baited her.”


  “Oh? Do tell,” Xia Anxi said, raising an eyebrow.

  The words felt crueler now, looking back, but Ling Qi couldn't bring herself to feel particularly bad for Chu Song. “I asked her why I should care for the memory of a clan a hundred years dead.”


  “Blunt, but effective,” Xia Anxi concluded. “Ah, she must have raged. Those sorts always do.”


  “Yes,” Ling Qi said, looking down at the match.

  Chu Song and the other disciple were clashing in the midst of a stony field, and she seemed to be coming out the better. Chu Song’s cultivation hadn’t improved much, but to Ling Qi’s eye, her skills had. Her movement and demeanor were both much more controlled, and her swordplay more disciplined.

  “I must wonder why the Duchess left any of the Chu alive at all. It’s best to finish things with foes. Anything else is just buying future trouble,” he mused. “Of course, I am sure I simply cannot see such a cultivator’s plans.”


  Ling Qi didn’t answer at first. Why had the Duchess spared any of them? Going as far as she did, there would have been no more objection to finishing the clan entirely, aside from perhaps allowing spouses and children to change their names and join their partner’s or parent’s clans. Why allow the Chu to persist at all?

  “Perhaps living examples are more effective than dead stone and ruins?”


  Xia Anxi nodded thoughtfully. “A fair point, yes.”


  In the arena below, the boy Chu Song was fighting broke away with a movement art and leapt into the air. A great condor materialized above him, carrying him into the sky in its talons. Ling Qi saw Chu Song’s expression twist into a snarl as she reached up and clenched a fist. She felt the wind in the arena change, a massive downdraft slamming her foe and his beast back to earth.

  “I made an impression, it seems,” Ling Qi observed.

  “That’s right. You can fly. Tell me, what is it like?”


  Ling Qi blinked, turning her gaze to Xia Anxi. He was still looking down at the arena, watching Chu Song hound down her foes. “It’s the most refreshing thing in the world. The feeling of being unmoored from everything, weightless and free, is incomparable.”


  He nodded, and a moment of silence passed. Ling Qi listened absently to the polite and formal back and forth between Meizhen and Renxiang.

  “What is the sea like?” Ling Qi asked. “I’ve seen forests and mountains and vales, rivers and plains of snow, but never the ocean.”


  “It is powerful.” Xia Anxi sounded nostalgic. “A million, million tonnes of water pounding upon the shore in a rhythm as old as time, a glittering beauty of wave and surf, vast beyond even the confines of the horizon, with depths of mystery to match even sacred Lake Hei.”


  “How poetic,” Ling Qi said.

  He sniffed. “I do write the lyrics of my personal songs.”


  “Ugh, lyrics. I am not much for spoken words. A clear melody carries meaning better,” Ling Qi replied.

  Sixiang grumbled in her head.

  “The spoken word is among the first works of art made by man,” Xia Anxi retorted haughtily. “You should not dismiss it so.”


  “Is that so.” Ling Qi tilted her head. “If you will excuse the question, how did you come by your talent? I was under the impression that the Bai did not have much focus on music.”


  “The esteemed White Serpents do not engage with such arts,” Xia Anxi conceded, his eyes flicking briefly toward Meizhen. “But the Blue have their work songs, and even the Red and the Green their marching hymns and drums. The Xia draw their song from the sea, which has its uses in cultivating our coral.”


  “Coral?” Ling Qi asked.

  “Ah, yes, a southlander wouldn’t know. Most think it a sort of stone, but it is more akin to your trees, living and immobile. It grows underwater in sprawling and beautiful formations. We tend and cultivate it for our underwater holdings, both in our homes and as fortifications against the leviathans which prowl the kelp beds of the red jungle. But even beside that, the spirits of wind and wave have always responded well to song.”


  Ling Qi struggled to picture the described coral. She did know there were some Weilu traditions toward shaping trees through song, and her dossier on the Meng had indicated that they made heavy use of living wood and plant life in their traditional architecture.

  “It does sound beautiful. I’d like to see it someday.”


  “Perhaps I might send for a painting to remind me of home,” he said flippantly.

  “Ah, trivial, of course,” Ling Qi said dryly.

  The match was wrapping up. Chu Song had won handily, not even bringing out her spirit beast.

  “I am a man of some means and talent.” Xia Anxi preened.

  “Naturally.” Ling Qi chuckled, leaning back in her seat.

  There would be a brief intermission before the fifth match began.

  Threads 216-Friend and Foe 5

  Ling Qi had an idea, and Sixiang was amenable to helping. “You make the sea sound beautiful, but I think the sky is a greater inspiration for artists.”


  “As you have never seen it, that is unsurprising,” Xia Anxi replied. “The majesty and romance of the ocean is the pinnacle of the world’s beauty.”


  “I don’t know,” Ling Qi said dubiously, keeping half an eye on the arena. It wasn’t something she was invested in, but it seemed to be working at getting him talking. “The sky is the vault of heaven, the closest the material world comes to the Father’s essence. It is the open canvas of the world, free for inspiration to strike like lightning and for creativity to blow in on the wind. Since it represents the world’s creative forces, it seems obvious that it would be superior.”


  “I suppose one who followed modern orthodoxy would think so,” Xia Anxi allowed with some distaste. “The eight elements model is an artificial imposition on the world. It is the five elements model that better represents the world. The ocean, being the tears of the Nameless Father for his slain wife, is the ultimate representation of emotion, which is ultimately the source of art.”


  Well, this was working, albeit with some condescension, but he was taking her seriously. She would have to thank Sixiang later for feeding her information.

  Sixiang grumbled.

  “I think water as a representation of persistence and stubborn advancement is more accurate,” Ling Qi debated. “Emotion is better represented by spontaneity. Is that not how passions work?”


  “It is not spontaneity which makes art,” Xia Anxi disagreed, turning fully in his seat to face her. “Any dabbler may have inspiration. A true artist of song or pigment or any other type must have in them a persistence, a refusal to leave a work unfinished. This is the passion of the sea, deep and abiding, shaping the beauty of islands and beaches over eons with the wear of the waves.”


  Ling Qi smiled faintly. “True, although I’d argue the wind does the same with the mountains and hills. But all the same, without inspiration and innovation, you will only endlessly repeat the styles of your ancestors.”


  “And what is wrong with that?” he asked rhetorically. “To iterate again and again, this is how the world advances. So, too, with art. I study the work of my ancestors. There is no need to reject the past in order to create new things. They have given us tools. Only fools refuse to use them.”


  “I suppose I have been told that I follow in the style of Grandmistress Lei, but my only teacher was the spirit Zeqing,” Ling Qi said, loosening her grip on her qi enough that her mentor’s name vibrated with the meaning underneath the base sound.

  “A testament to the Grandmistress’ skill is that her style became so much a part of the world,” Xia Anxi said, a note of fervency in his voice. “That is what I mean. Even one with no learning uses the tools left behind by those such as her. The works of the Coral Serpent, first of our line, are much the same. Even the urchins and toughs of the docks sing her songs, crude as the rendition might be.”


  Ling Qi tilted her head to the side. “How would you know what songs street urchins and laborers sing?”


  Xia Anxi’s golden eyes widened marginally before his expression smoothed over. “I speak in metaphor, of course, to express how deeply a true grandmaster affects the world.”


  “Right.” Ling Qi hid her suspicion. Something to file away for later. “To get back to the original point, I think the nature of the heavens is more expansive. Within it, you have the seasons from which my winter is drawn, and you have weather, which shapes both the people and the land. Crucially, it is omnipresent. Any person anywhere may look to it.

  “It may be true that the majesty of the sea is exclusive to those who live on its shores and above or below the waves, but the rest of that is nonsense,” Xia Anxi dismissed, leaning upon the arm of his seat. “Weather arises from the cycle of rains, and even the winds arise from the interaction of sun and sea, fire and water, which is why it is absurd to class them as their own element. I shall grant you the seasons on technicality as the celestial movements may be considered a part of the heavens, but the depth of the seas are as infinite as the skies, the waves a match for any procession of clouds.”


  He hummed a bar, and Ling Qi felt the change in the area’s qi.

  Drumming her fingers on the arm of her seat, Ling Qi hummed back.

  “Ling Qi.” Cai Renxiang’s stern voice cut her off, and Ling Qi realized just how spiritually “loud” they had gotten.

  “Xia Anxi.” Meizhen joined her, sounding more amused than stern.

  “My apologies, Lady Cai,” Ling Qi said.

  “It seems we became too enmeshed in our conversation,” Xia Anxi apologized as well, bowing his head.

  Ling Qi privately had to admit that the discussion had been interesting. She hadn’t directly contested with another musician since that sect challenge against Yu Nuan early in the year. Maybe she should do it more often in the future. She had felt her music was stagnating lately.

  Sixiang teased.

  “It is no concern,” Meizhen dismissed. “But the matches are beginning.”


  “It would be rude to ignore them,” Cai Renxiang backed her up.

  “Less entertaining though,” Lao Keung drawled from the railing. “The fifth match is already over.”


  “Already?” Ling Qi asked, blinking in surprise.

  “I suppose after last year, the Han wished to show their virtue of speed,” Bai Meizhen mused.

  Ling Qi peered down at the arena where a lazily smiling Han Jian raised his hands to the stands.

  “I understand that the Sect’s inability to give them face at last year’s tournament was problematic,” Cai Renxiang said.

  “The Han? Those would be the Marquis of the East?” Xia Anxi asked, catching up. “I hope the Guo know what they are doing with them.”


  “I rather doubt that the Han will choose to march like fools into the empty desert to declare themselves Kings of the Grave,” Bai Meizhen said dryly. “But yes, I imagine the Guo Lords are wary of the Han’s rise.”


  “It is a delicate situation,” Cai Renxiang agreed. “The Han are not so belligerent however. I have heard that the Han heir has secured a marriage for his son with a less valued Guo scion.”


  Ling Qi looked down at Han Jian. She wondered how Gu Xiulan would react to that. She knew, despite everything, that girl was still smarting from Han Jian’s rejection, no matter how impossible his reciprocation would have been.

  “It is good that they are being proactive,” Lao Keung said neutrally. “The Guo are wise.”


  Ling Qi hoped so. Perhaps she should ask Xiulan about inter-clan relations in the Golden Fields when she wrote her next letter. At home, surrounded by her family and their soldiers, she doubted the other girl was in any danger even if there was some turmoil. Still, she worried for her friend.

  Below, the sixth match was beginning. The two participants were Ma Jun, her former bodyguard, and Fan Yu, who she had mixed feelings about.

  “Didn’t you say that girl was one of yours?” Xia Anxi asked.

  “She followed Lady Cai,” Ling Qi corrected as the arena shimmered, bringing the combatants to a storm-wracked mountain top. “She guarded me for a time with her sister. It seems she will be a peer though.”


  “Too modest,” Xia Anxi jested.

  “Odd. I do not recall seeing any Fan on the guest list,” Bai Meizhen mused.

  “There is one. An older brother, I believe,” Cai Renxiang said, watching the opening movements.

  Fan Yu armored himself, pulling up stone and soil. Meanwhile, Ma Jun began to summon shimmering flower petals around herself.

  “The Fan would be… Ah, the remaining agricultural clan in the east,” Xia Anxi remembered, peering down. “Quite potent, as things go over there. I am not certain about this one though.”


  “Some tribulation of the heart. No certainty in his movements. Cultivation is unstable,” Lao Keung analyzed shortly.

  The two clashed below, stubborn stone against flashing petals and wind. Neither came away marked.

  “Whatever you say, it seems you instilled some pride in that girl,” Xia Anxi said to her, watching Ma Jun circle the arena, feinting, dodging, and chipping away at her opponent. “The colors, the meter, they both scream of drive.”


  Ling Qi added, “Frustration, too.” She wondered what that was about. She would have to ask Gan Guangli.

  Below, the shape of the match was becoming clear. Ma Jun was having difficulty hurting Fan Yu, but he was only weathering her. Twice, she saw openings where he could have struck out at her, and twice, Fan Yu failed to take them. It was…


  “Pfah, the match is already over,” Lao Keung said disdainfully. “Even if it goes on for a while yet.”


  “I agree,” Bai Meizhen said. “He is frightened, and that fear does not drive. It commands. Unfortunate for him.”


  Ling Qi was silent. She thought of the boy who had mocked her on her first day at the Sect and who had been loudly against her throughout those early days. There had been, if she were honest with herself, some satisfaction in surpassing him, even if she chose not to be obvious about it. Then, there was pity by year's end.

  Now, there was not even that. He simply wasn’t relevant to her life.

  She would have to congratulate Ma Jun.

  As the match ended some time later, she continued to chat with the others in the box.

  The final two matches went as expected. Xiao Fen’s opponent fought hard, but was simply outmatched by her speed, brutality, and martial skill. Han Fang’s opponent managed to not be beaten in the initial ambush, but fell shortly thereafter.

  And like that, the first round of the tournament ended. It had been predictable. The next one would begin to show some real clashes.

  But for now, they would descend to congratulate the winners from their side.

  Threads 217-Second Day 1

  Actually being on the tournament field at ground level was nostalgic, Ling Qi thought. It was here, just last year, that she had taken her first real step in establishing herself before the eyes of the Empire. It was here, for the first time, that she publicly showed her strength without holding back. It was here, she supposed, that the little seed of arrogance which had brought her near ruin in the dream of the Forest King had been born. Yes, in many ways, it was an important place.

  She supposed it was the same for Gan Guangli.

  “My apologies for not congratulating you earlier, Sir Gan,” Ling Qi said cheerfully.

  “My performance thus far has only been the minimum required to not besmirch our lady’s name,” Gan Guangli replied. “Nor that of our esteemed guests!”


  “You have performed to my expectations,” Cai Renxiang said evenly, stepping forward.

  They stood beside one of the four arenas on the grassy field that filled the space between the platforms and the stands. The stands were swiftly emptying as the audience went forth to partake in the other attractions of the Sect’s tournament. With Gan Guangli stood that Gun Jun fellow and Ma Jun, who looked as if she were torn between bouncing on her heels in joy at her success and frightened glances at their Bai guests.

  “I am pleased to see my ally’s subordinates succeeding as well,” Bai Meizhen said politely, looking up from Xiao Fen, who stood stiffly under Bai Meizhen’s examination. Xiao Fen had received a few scratches in her fight. It was nothing worth visiting the Medicine Hall, but Meizhen seemed inclined to fuss anyway. “I am certain you know Xiao Fen already, but with us today are Bai Xia Anxi and Bai Lao Keung, my new subordinates.”


  Ling Qi caught a brief expression of thoughtfulness on Lao Keung’s face as she introduced them. It was something she had noticed, first with Xiao Fen and now with these two. When introducing her kin, Meizhen went out of her way to refer to them fully as Bai. Other White Serpent Bai did not do this.

  Lao Keung spoke first, clapping his fists together and offered a formal military bow. “I am Lao Keung. As I will be heading Miss Bai’s personal security, I expect we will be working together.”


  Xia Anxi offered a slightly condescending smile. “And I am Xia Anxi, part of the diplomatic attachment. I hope you will keep anything from troubling us while we work.”


  “Of course!” Gan Guangli exclaimed, reaching out to clasp wrists with a slightly bemused looking Anxi. He either missed, or more likely, ignored the tone Xia Anxi used. “I will look forward to working with you both in the name of advancing both of our ladies’ interests.”


  “I am certain you will not disappoint me,” Cai Renxiang said formally. “You have done good work, both in maintaining my project and raising your followers as well.”


  The other two with Gan Guangli bowed low in response to her words.

  “Lady Cai is too kind,” they said, almost in unison.

  “A commander may only hope for talented officers,” Gan Guangli said cheerfully. “If—”


  It was a flash of red in the corner of her vision. No, rather, it was a crimson that filled her spiritual senses, the coppery scent of blood mingling with freshly turned soil. Ling Qi turned her head toward the source of the sensation.

  There, at the edge of another arena with the victorious Lu Feng, stood Sun Liling. Sun Liling glanced away from Lu Feng, briefly meeting her gaze before her eyes swept away to the rest of Ling Qi’s party, who had noticed her as well.

  The Princess of the West had changed since Ling Qi had last seen her. Her crimson hair held a streak of vibrant green, and the sharp-edged smirk she wore seemed more literal than before. The biggest change was to her spirit though. She was a sink of power. Her skin drank in the qi of sun and water in the air, and the power of the earth and soil visibly flowed into her feet to Ling Qi’s spiritual senses. Her dantian burned in Ling Qi’s spiritual sight like a miniature sun, environmental qi churning, digesting into hungry crimson.

  She was in the formation stage, the sixth step of the third realm, a full two stages above where she had been just a couple months ago.

  “Yo! Looks like we’re all here again, huh?” Sun Liling called out, waving. She seemed completely oblivious to the stony silence of the Bai around them as she strolled over to them. Sun Liling wore the same loose black silk pants she always had, but her shirt was a pale cream color embroidered with sunflowers, and over it, she wore a loose and unsecured vest of crimson made of some plant fiber that seemed still alive. “This sure is nostalgic.”


  There was a beat of heavy silence, and in it, Ling Qi finally noticed Ji Rong standing in Sun Liling’s shadow. He hadn’t grown explosively at least. He was stronger than last she had seen him of course, but not unreasonably so. His expression was stony, and she couldn’t read him at all.

  “Princess Sun,” Cai Renxiang greeted politely. “I am glad your return was untroubled.”


  “Yes, it seems that the West has at least managed to maintain its transport infrastructure,” Bai Meizhen said in a voice as cold as Ling Qi’s Hoarfrost Caress technique.

  “Right?” Sun Liling laughed. “Roads, how do those work? How’re a buncha meatheads supposed to know?”


  Bai Meizhen blinked, momentarily nonplussed.

  “I guess we managed on our own, just like always.” The princess beamed. “Honestly, things are going pretty great back home! Gramps had some tips for me, and I got to see my people again.”


  “.…… I am pleased for you,” Cai Renxiang said slowly.

  “You sure are,” Sun Liling said. “Anyways, gotta couple things to say! Mind if I have your ear for a moment?”


  Ling Qi was starting to feel unnerved looking at Sun Liling’s half-lidded eyes and wide smile. It felt unnatural like the bright lure or sweet scent meant to lure prey.

  “I do not see why not,” her liege said. There wasn’t really a reason to refuse.

  “So first, no hard feelings either way, regardless of which of our boys wins, yeah?” Sun Liling asked flippantly, slipping her hands into her pockets. “Just a fun lil challenge, right?”


  “Of course,” Cai Renxiang said.

  Sun Liling nodded enthusiastically. “Other thing’s a bit bigger. I need you to pass a message to your mother. Gramps has decided that since we’re all doing this imperial unity thing, he’s gonna head south too to clear out our bits of the mountains! He’s gonna be coming to meet the Duchess so they can talk coordination, yeah? Don’t want to step on each other’s toes!”


  Silence hung in the air at her declaration, and Ling Qi glanced at Gan Guangli, who seemed bewildered too. The less said for Bai Meizhen’s and the other Bai’s reactions, the better.

  “If that is King Sun’s wish, I am certain Mother will prepare to receive his simulacrum,” Cai Renxiang replied, barely missing a beat. “It is good to hear of such cooperation.”


  “Nah, he’s gonna have his alternates overseeing the muster. General Lu’s got that mostly in hand. He’ll be coming in person. Ask your mother to open a line so we can figure out the date, yeah?”


  Ling Qi did not know much about the Western Territories, but even she understood that Sun SHao

  left the jungle in person. What was going on?

  Silence again, and this time, Sun Liling didn’t give them time to reply, turning to saunter away. “C’mon, boys, we got other people to see.

  Ling Qi blinked, mortified as Sun Liling pulled her hands from her pockets to swat both Lu Feng and Ji Rong on the bottoms as she passed them by. She glanced at Ji Rong, who briefly met her eyes, looking conflicted before he hurried to follow.

  “What,” Lao Keung said.

  “What,” Bai Meizhen echoed, glaring at Liling’s back.

  Xiao Fen made a sound not unlike a furiously burning fuse.

  “I do not even know where to begin,” Xia Anxi muttered.

  “And I do believe it would be best if you did not.” Another voice startled Ling Qi, and she glanced back to see Xia Lushen standing behind them, one hand on Bai Meizhen’s shoulder. “This is not business for you.”


  “Lord Xia,” they all swiftly greeted.

  “Lady Cai, I hope you will deliver this message to your mother swiftly,” Xia Lushen said pleasantly. “It does seem of great import.”


  “I will,” Cai Renxiang said. “I must apologize to you, my guests. This is most urgent—”


  “It is nothing. We will meet again this evening,” Bai Meizhen said, recovering.

  “May I ask to borrow your retainer, Lady Cai?” Xia Lushen asked. “It was her note which originally brought me here.”


  Ling Qi blinked, remembering that she had sent a missive indicating that she had made her decision on the sale. She hadn’t expected such a prompt response.

  “Of course, Lord Xia. Ling Qi, you are free until we meet back with our guests this evening,” Cai Renxiang said distractedly.

  She nodded to her liege as the group broke up with a few more pleasantries and followed after Meizhen’s uncle as he walked toward one of the exits. She turned her attention inward toward Sixiang. The muse hadn’t said a word in some time.

  Sixiang muttered.

  Not planning on it, Ling Qi thought.

  “You honor me with your swift reply, Lord Xia,” she said aloud.

  “It is nothing,” he said. “Merely a small favor. I suppose you would like to know what I have to offer.”


  “If you would, please,” Ling Qi said.

  “Most simply, I can offer stones. Two hundred green stones will go far for a young lady your age. However, if mere stones will not interest you, I can offer some small studies I and my apprentices have done on soil and fertilization. Your spirit undoubtedly does good work, but given the constraints of your environment, it may be best to stack advantages.”


  Ling Qi nodded. Either of those would be a boon.

  “On the other hand,” he mused, “I can offer medicines. I am not an unskilled alchemist…”


  Ling Qi perked up. “I did acquire the recipe for a cyan breakthrough drug recently. Perhaps you could help me acquire some of its reagents?”


  “Have you now? So resourceful,” Xia Lushen praised. “Yes, that would be within my power. I take it you already have a maker in mind?”


  “I mean no insult,” Ling Qi said humbly.

  “No, it is good to develop your own networks,” he dismissed. "Aside from that, I can offer some insightful conversation. Our Ways are not particularly close, but some of my meditations may aid you."

  Ling Qi considered the options Xia Lushen had laid out. She was likely still a few years from attempting the fourth realm breakthrough, but she would be establishing her home on the border sometime this coming year. One thing she had learned well was that benefits and good fortune built on each other like a ball of snow rolling downhill. That was why the great families were great. Even if they had a bad generation, the sheer inertia of their power would keep them rolling.

  She intended to ensure that her family had as much of that inertia as she could.

  “I think I would prefer the soil studies.”


  “A fine choice,” Xia Lushen said with an amiable nod. They exited the hall which passed under the stands, stepping out into the sun outside the arena. “The lands of the Ling will never suffer from parasites and weeds.”


  There was something vaguely malicious about the way the smiling old man pronounced those words, but given the Bai’s proximity to the western jungles, she could hardly fault him for that. “I am certain that Sir Xia’s studies will be more than enough for the calmer lands of the Wall.”


  “Indeed.” He frowned, gazing back over his shoulder into the arena. “Regardless, you will be well defended from encroachment. I do not have the items on my person. Would an exchange at the end of the tournament be acceptable?”


  “Of course,” Ling Qi said. “Thank you for all of your consideration, Sir Xia.”


  “No need. I am certain you have your own business to attend to.”


  Ling Qi nodded agreeably and bowed respectfully to the senior Bai as they parted ways, making her way down the path toward the guest pavilions. The trouble was her plans were now unsettled. She’d meant to remain with Renxiang and the others until her appointment with Wang Chao and Xuan Shi.

  Sixiang proposed.

  I’m hardly going to trip over opportunities, Ling Qi thought, restraining her urge to roll her eyes.

  It wasn’t a bad idea though. Just observing the nobility of the Emerald Seas while she analyzed the information she had been given wouldn’t be a bad way to spend some sudden free time.

  “You’re helping me process and analyze everything,” Ling Qi said under her breath.

  Sixiang complained.

  Too bad, Ling Qi thought. This is what they signed up for.

  Sixiang grumbled.

  Ling Qi laughed, a smile on her lips as she joined the crowds among the pavilions.

  Threads 218 Second Day 2

  Tiangong, the Labyrinthine Realm, was the capital of the Meng lands. Said to have been won from the hands of a mighty spirit of chance and fate in a game by the founder of the Meng long ago, this was the deed for which he was granted leave to found his own branch clan. Despite being one of the province's oldest settlements, it was the third smallest of the county capitals. Only the capitals of the Jia, who had built a city wholesale after the Duchess’ victory and had harsh residency requirements, and the Luo, who as a rule simply did not gather often in permanent cities, were less populous.

  It was probably the biggest by area though, Xiangmen aside, which was said to sprawl widely across the hills and valleys and fens. It was called Labyrinthine for a reason. Meng works and the original spiritual nature of the region meant that pathways were never quite stable, and which districts neighbored others changed at times. Hou Zhuang’s information said that there was an order to this, but his observations and information hadn’t been able to discern it.

  The Meng did not use normal imperial warding methods against spirits for this reason, but they had their own systems of spirit traps and mazes which they guarded jealously. The other settlements in the north of the region were similar, if on a smaller scale. Meng architecture often used raised walkways due to the marshy ground, and while they did not build directly into particularly old growth trees like Xiangmen in miniature, they favored loops and rounded shapes over straight lines and shapes. This informed their thinking, or so the common knowledge said.

  In the south, in the lands gifted by the fallen Hui after the Duchess’ war, things were different. The former counts of the region had been more imperial leaning, and so, the settlements there were built accordingly. The Meng were attempting to integrate and overhaul the infrastructure, but progress was slow and halting. Hou Zhuang’s notes indicated this was due to a conflict within the Meng’s ruling halls on how the matter should be handled.

  This, he determined, was partially due to some vestigial old Weilu structures. Namely, the practice of having small circles or councils in the place of individual leaders was hindering consensus. More than half of their viscounties were headed by branch clans, and the lines were blurry. In the modern day, this amounted to advisors and vassals having more sway than was normal. Sometimes, lofty isolationist silence was what it seemed to be. Sometimes, it was internal paralysis.

  Ling Qi wouldn’t have believed an imperial clan could be like that, but recently, she had been finding her conceptions on what authority was challenged more than she liked.

  “It’s not all bad, right?” Sixiang mused. “If one person is messing up but it takes three to make a decision, it can reign in the one bad guy.”


  That wasn’t wrong, but the way people worked, she was pretty sure that just meant a bunch of arguing and nothing getting done as everyone selfishly pursued their own gain. Then again, clearly such things existed and at least sort of worked. Perhaps she simply didn’t have enough experience.

  “One day, I’ll chip a little more of that cynicism off of you,” Sixiang grumbled

  The mountain might be worn down by the river, but it would take ten thousand years, Ling Qi thought, smiling self-deprecatingly.

  She looked up from where she stood by the refreshments table in a wide airy pavilion. It belonged to a southwestern viscount, and she had drifted in here to mingle and make nice for a while. They certainly had a good array of ciders and juices at least. If she recalled correctly, the family's main income came from their orchards.

  Her thoughts were interrupted as her gaze panned across the gathered nobles and servants, and she found her gaze falling on a familiar figure. Meng Diu stood talking with the elderly host of this little gathering. Her heavy makeup was done up differently than the last time Ling Qi had seen her. She spoke softly with the viscount, and naturally, Ling Qi could not make out what they were saying.

  That woman was surprisingly good at moving unnoticed. As she watched, the viscount bowed and she inclined her head before the two split apart. Meng Diu caught her eye.

  “What did you say about opportunities?” Sixiang asked smugly.

  It doesn’t count if a person is arranging them, Ling Qi complained in her head.

  Ling Qi lowered her eyes and then inclined her head, beginning to stroll toward the arrangement of flowers in the center of the pavilion.

  Soon, Meng Diu stood beside her. Though the older woman's artfully arranged hair barely came up to her shoulder, Meng Diu’s presence made her seem rather larger. The open paper fan in her hand shaded the older woman's mouth and nose.

  “My grandson’s services proved useful, did they not?” Meng Diu opened without preamble. She appeared to be examining the large flower arrangement before them.

  “Meng Dan proved a noble young man and an incomparable scholar,” Ling Qi agreed. “His talents were very useful for gathering information.”


  “This pleases me. That child often becomes too wrapped up in his texts. It is good to see that he may apply his talents elsewhere.”


  “In fairness, much of his work did end up taking place in a library of some sort.”


  “Yes, that creature's ring,” Meng Diu said frostily, her fan’s lazy waving picking up for a moment. “Truly, the gods love their games.”


  Ling Qi glanced her way. It wasn’t in fashion to refer to the great spirits that way. “So I have learned. Still, in this case, the outcome was good.”


  “Yes. That tapestry… You are wise to sell it, Baroness. It would only bring you trouble. I hope that my clan's price will prove acceptable.”


  “So do I,” Ling Qi said after a moment's thought. “It would hurt me to disappoint you when you have been so kind.”


  That finally drew a thin smile from the older woman. “Baroness Ling is developing well.”


  “Lady Meng is generous. But if I may, there is a question I would like to ask you.”


  “Ask it.” Meng Diu’s fan snapped shut and disappeared into her voluminous sleeve. She turned to fully face Ling Qi.

  “If I am to consider my options properly, I must know the dispositions of my allies,” Ling Qi said carefully. “How much strength does the interest in my projects hold in the councils of the Meng?”


  Meng Diu met her eyes, and Ling Qi held her steely gaze, straightening her shoulders as she faced the pressure from the higher cultivator. She loosened her grip on her own nascent domain, allowing her song to compete with the slow steady melody of Meng Diu.

  “More than we have had in centuries,” Meng Diu said plainly, the pressure of her presence receding. “Your Duchess’ rise broke many things. It broke many people. This included my father, who came to her call under the Divine Tree. My brother resents this; I do not. My father was right to come and right to die to burn the webs which choked this province.”


  “I see,” Ling Qi said, reassessing things. She knew Meng Diu was sister to the current Meng clan head even without Hou Zhuang’s information.

  “It is not enough to simply live by the old ways. They must be developed on our terms, not that of outsiders,” Meng Diu continued. “Our land is not the artificial cradle of the Peaks. Our ways are superior for this land. It is not enough to sit behind our mists and sing while the world passes us by.”


  “I do not disagree. Isolation serves no one.”


  Those words rang with something deeper than words, a chord of her spirit.

  Meng Diu nodded slightly, turning back toward the flower arrangement. “One in four of those whose voices matter, but success in our ventures grants legitimacy. Most can be convinced. We are not exempt from the charge that is in the air nor the knowledge that the world is turning. Some oppose us, turning even further inward, but this path is not yet set in stone.”


  “I understand,” Ling Qi said slowly. In reaching out, those who wished to keep up with the world on their own terms hoped to gain further legitimacy for their movement. In this, she, or rather, Cai Renxiang, could be a rallying point. Look at us, their actions could say. The ways of our ancestors may still change the path of the province. “I will keep that in mind.”


  Another slight nod. “Good. On to happier things.”


  “Happier things?” Ling Qi asked, tilting her head.

  “I have decided that I quite enjoy winter music. A passing whim, I am sure. I would like to offer patronage for your junior sister.”


  Ling Qi’s eyes widened. “You honor me, Lady Meng. What did you have in mind?”


  “Two possibilities. I may see the southwest opened to you, or I may promote you in the capital.”


  Ling Qi contemplated her words. She could tell by tone and emphasis on words that Meng Diu would prefer the former. Ling Qi could see why. She had just learned that the Meng clan’s traditions were spotty in the south, and her “brand” would be helpful in promoting the type that Meng Diu supported. On the other hand, promotion in the capital could do a great deal for her.

  She understood what Meng Diu was doing. This offer made it clear that the woman was willing to help her and be done with it, but she was also open to further cooperation.

  “I think I would like to work the southwest into our plans,” Ling Qi said, inclining her head. “It will be some time before we can afford regular trips to the capital.”


  “The road to Xiangmen is long,” Meng Diu agreed, sounding pleased. “I will speak to those who make such decisions and put them in contact.”


  “Thank you, Lady Meng,” Ling Qi said. “Might I have another question?”


  Meng Diu silently gave a small nod.

  Ling Qi was silent for a beat as well, working out in her head with Sixiang precisely how she wished to phrase her question. “What vision do those who seek reform have for the future? What makes them differ from what people call moderates of the Weilu tradition?”


  “A fair query, one which I could answer for the remainder of the day. The ones you speak of are best represented by the Luo clan. They have their pride, and they maintain their traditions. But they are content with that. They lack conviction. And so, they are worn away year by year as a mountain in the face of the wind.”


  Ling Qi listened carefully as the older woman spoke.

  “So, too, those you would call conservatives. They are more fierce in the defense of our way, but they have long ceased to seek to turn the minds of others. They stand in a dying garden and declare ‘no more,’ but they have not sown a seed in a thousand years.” Meng Diu’s lips curled in contempt. “As for the others, time’s hand cannot be turned back. A burned grove is gone. It can never be restored, only replaced. What we wish for is simple, young lady. We wish to restore the vigor of our people to remind them of why our traditions were once followed and why they are still worth following.”


  She smiled humorlessly. “But I speak in sweeping words. In the immediate term, Baroness, our goal is to restore the honor of our faith, the Pure Way, to acceptability after the debasement of the Hui and to drum up support for repair and investment in our southwestern territories. The south of the province is still in flux all these centuries later. It is there where we might reverse our decline.”


  “I admit, I am a little uneducated on these matters. You do not see yourself in opposition to the Duchess in any of that.”


  “I am in opposition to her pet killer certainly,” Meng Diu corrected. “But in my century serving at the court, I have found that this is not the same. The stars of her great followers rise and fall in the Duchess’ consideration.”


  Ling Qi’s mind flashed to the cold expression of Heron General Xia Ren. She did not think she would ever like that woman. She reminded Ling Qi of burning forests and the taste of blood on her tongue.

  “I see. I will need to speak to my liege, but I would like it if we could correspond in the future. I would like to know more of the ways in which I have apparently stumbled.”


  The older woman nodded. “Of course. It is important to cultivate the youth after all. Perhaps we will have time when you come north for your auction. Until then, allow me to introduce you to Viscount Rui.”


  Ling Qi gave a short bow of gratitude and folded her arms behind her back, following after Meng Diu as the older woman began to introduce her to the various worthies at the little gathering.

  Threads 219-Second Day 3

  Ling Qi stretched her arms over her head and let out a sigh of satisfaction.

  “Look at you being all uncouth.” Sixiang laughed, the ghostly image of their face appearing over her shoulder. “Tut, tut, what would everyone think?”


  “There’s no one around to complain,” Ling Qi said dryly, shaking out her sleeves to make them hang properly again as she lowered her arms. She paused for a moment, considering. “No one who could politely admit it anyway.”


  There were probably a lot of perception-focused cultivators around after all. She began to walk again, leaving the pavilions further behind as she headed toward the hills. She had flown this far, but she had felt like strolling the last bit.

  “Seriously though, you’ve gotten better,” Sixiang said idly, their phantom weight resting on her shoulder.

  Ling Qi let her gaze wander up to the afternoon sky. “So have you. Do you remember that first party?”


  Sixiang cringed theatrically. “Ugh, we were both a couple of bumpkins, huh?”


  “A bit. It was disrespect on my part though.”


  “Yeah,” Sixiang agreed.

  There had been a certain contempt, Ling Qi thought, for the idea of nobles. It was still there in the corner of her heart every time she saw a display that could have fed a city if it was sold, if she were honest. But it was just the way things were. The strong do as they will; the weak do as they must. That was life.

  “It doesn’t always have to be like that,” Sixiang contended.

  “Sure,” Ling Qi said easily. “I believe in Renxiang after all. But it’s always going to be a struggle not to revert to the resting state, even if we succeed at everything. My original point was, all these displays and rituals… They’re not so different from what the priests do with spirits. This stuff is all carefully constructed to discourage us from staving each other’s heads in with rocks.”


  “You’d all probably be more flashy about it,” Sixiang accused.

  “A fancy rock is still a rock.” And that was what she was doing now in trying to extend those rituals, that acknowledgement, to a whole other people. that they might all avoid painting the mountains crimson.

  When in the world had she begun to think that she had any business taking on such a problem?

  “When you decided you were gonna reach the peak of cultivation,” Sixiang answered.

  Ling Qi didn’t reply. They had arrived.

  She saw Xuan Shi and Wang Chao up on the hill, but Luo Zhong stood at the top of the hill with them, smiling easily as he chatted with the animated Wang Chao. Zhengui watched them all with what she recognized as polite befuddlement, which probably meant they were talking politics.

  “Hello, honored guests,” Ling Qi greeted politely as Sixiang’s image blew away on the wind. “It looks like we have picked up one more.”


  “Sect Brother Luo met us on the way, and I didn’t see the harm in bringing him along,” Wang Chao declared cheerfully. “We already intended to invite him to our gathering after, no?”


  “I am sorry for the intrusion, but this sounded quite interesting,” Luo Zhong said in a conciliatory tone. “I will leave if our host wishes.”


  It would be rude. Not unacceptably so, but just enough. It reminded her of why Luo Zhong irritated her just a little. “I don’t mind your presence. Sect Brother Xuan?”


  “This one has no objections,” Xuan Shi said placidly. “If Sir Wang and Lady Ling believe Brother Luo’s integrity.”


  Of course not.

  “Do you know what we were intending, Luo Zhong?” Ling Qi asked politely.

  “Some casual technique and formation demonstrations,” Luo Zhong said, straightening up from his bow. “Sect Brother Xuan’s innovations are impressive, or so I hear.”


  “Sect Brother Luo is too generous,” Xuan Shi said, shrugging his broad shoulders. “And this is merely a

  meeting.”


  Ling Qi blinked at the emphasis Xuan Shi put on that word, and she knew Luo Zhong caught it too from the way he straightened up marginally.

  Sixiang thought.

  “Yeah, Big Sis said this was just for fun,” Gui intruded haughtily. The tone really didn’t suit him.

  “Haha, of course it’s just for fun, Sir Ling,” Wang Chao chuffed. “I think we’ve all had enough of serious concerns for the day. You would not believe how my sister grilled me over my performance in these last months.”


  Ling Qi smiled. “I am sure your elder sister is merely showing affection in her own way. She only wishes for you to excel.”


  “Bah, she’s gotten to you already!” Wang Chao threw up his hands.

  Luo Zhong watched them pensively. Xuan Shi did so with an unreadable air.

  Ling Qi watched Luo Zhong out of the corner of her eye, considering. How did she want to handle his presence?

  Well, the best thing was just to treat him like any other plus one Wang Chao would have brought along. Maybe she could get him to cough up what he wanted without dragging it out.

  Ling Qi thought.

  She didn’t forget Xuan Shi’s words that she didn’t respect him. She saw no reason to feed Kongyou’s plots on that account.

  “So, how did you hear about this meeting, Sect Brother?” Ling Qi asked.

  “Ah, Sect Brother Wang was discussing his meeting with some of our peers,” Luo Zhong replied pleasantly. “The chance to see the craft of the venerable Xuan in action was too good to pass up.”


  Of course he had, Ling Qi thought. Wang Chao liked attention. If she were being unkind, she would say he liked to brag. It wasn’t the worst flaw to have, but it did have its downsides.

  Wang Chao grinned. “Of course I did! I’m proud of my companions! Ah, Lady Ling, you may end up fielding some questions regarding your gardening.”


  “It’s not something worthy of attention yet,” Ling Qi demurred. She was certain Wang Chao was overestimating things. Her hobbies weren’t important. At most, a few might be interested in Zhengui.

  “Yeah! This one’s just practice, even if it turned out pretty good,” Gui chirped.

  “Hmph. Elder Sister and Gui should have more pride,” Zhen hissed.

  “Weigh this one’s opinion how you will, but thy design principles are sound, however they came about,” Xuan Shi said thoughtfully, glancing her way.

  Sixiang whispered.

  “I hadn’t heard you were expanding your hobbies, Sister Ling,” Luo Zhong commented.

  “I’m simply exploring my little brother's nature more thoroughly. But please, this meeting is not about me. Brother Xuan, I’m interested in seeing what you’ve done with your armors since I last saw them deployed.”


  “Yes! I am looking forward to testing my might against your shell!” Wang Chao agreed excitedly.

  Xuan Shi looked at her for a moment and nodded once. “As Sister Ling wishes. Let us find a clear space then.”


  He turned, and they followed. Zhengui's trundling footsteps drowned out the natural ambience as they climbed the rest of the way to the top of the hill to a wide patch clear of any scrub, brush, or grass.

  “Well cleared,” Xuan Shi mused.

  “Big Sis said it was okay to eat everything since we would grow it back later,” Gui explained.

  “This one is thankful for the consideration,” Xuan Shi said politely. She had spoken to her little brother at length about trying to be polite, and it seemed to be working. “Most key in recent efforts has been the development of these gauntlets. More than armor, they are mobile forges and carvers.”


  Xuan Shi extended his arms, shaking out his sleeves to better show off the blocky gauntlets she had seen him wearing for some time now. They were made of some kind of ceramic, glazed in dark brown and green colors that matched his robes, and were meticulously articulated to allow for near full range of motion.

  As she watched, they whirred and clicked, and panels on the back of his wrists opened, spitting hexagonal ceramic plates into the air. She felt the qi in his arms pulse, and complex formations flashed across their surface with a sizzling hiss, and the plates began to whirl lazily around him.

  “A combination of an art with a talisman?” Ling Qi guessed.

  “Ah, I have heard of this! I did not know that you could perform such crafts without the backing of shen,” Wang Chao said, watching the panels fly. “How do you perform the replication?”


  Luo Zhong watched silently, but Ling Qi could feel he was paying attention.

  “The plates are stored uncarved. The purpose of the gauntlets is to store and impress the formation patterns,” Xuan Shi explained graciously, allowing more and more of the whirling panels to emerge. “This one merely developed upon the work of his ancestors in the art. An old construction art was made useful for this purpose.”


  Ling Qi watched the steady pulse of Xuan Shi’s dantian as it sent flows of qi moving through the gauntlets and the panels.

  Luo Zhong spoke up. “The panels themselves only have the simplest of receiving, functioning, and energy storage on them. The gauntlets do not merely create and store the physical shells for imprinting, but… Ah, no, you’ve hidden the controlling arrays, haven’t you?”


  Xuan Shi blinked and gave a slow nod. “Yes, this one chose a comprehensive approach. The Cai school of thought with its interlocking talismans is most intriguing.”


  “Here, here, no one better to take inspiration from than our Duchess,” Wang Chao said, only to blink. “Er, that is, except your own Duke of course, my friend!”


  “The Duke Xuan’s eyes are cast upon other seas. There is no offense.” Xuan Shi chuckled. “All wise in talisman craft look hungrily upon the developments of the Emerald Seas.”


  “Brother Xuan is generous to us.” Luo Zhong smiled thinly.

  “Not without cause,” Ling Qi said lightly. “So, Wang Chao and I planned some games with Sir Xuan to test his work. Do you plan on participating, Brother Luo?”


  “I am not much of a warrior, but if you will have me, I might have a few tricks to test the device’s capabilities with. Assuming Sir Xuan approves.”


  “Comprehensive testing may only help improve these simple projects,” Xuan Shi said humbly.

  “Ah, give me the first go, will you?” Wang Chaorolled his shoulders as he stepped forward.

  “I have no objections,” Ling Qi said, dipping her head.

  “Nor I,” said Luo Zhong.

  “Go get him, Mr. Avalanche!” Gui declared cheerfully from the sidelines. “I’ll make sure you don’t break the hill!”


  Her little brother was a good boy really, Ling Qi thought. She felt his roots growing throughout the hill, binding dirt and stone together in a web of living wood.

  “Haha, Sir Ling overestimates me!” Wang Chao stepped away from them to follow Xuan Shi further out into the cleared dirt.

  Ling Qi glanced toward her unexpected guest, crossing her arms loosely as the other two boys took up places across from each other. Wang Chao crouched, taking a runner's starting stance while Xuan Shi stood with a wide stance, his tiles whirling around him by the dozens.

  “Brother Luo certainly involves himself in many projects,” Ling Qi noted.

  “It is wise to have a diverse array of investments,” Luo Zhong riposted.

  There was a tremendous bang, and the hill shook violently under their feet. The shockwave of impact as Wang Chao’s charging shoulder struck the gathered barrier of hexagonal plates sent her hair fluttering, and Wang Chao became visible again, his feet having dug furrows in the dirt where he had landed after bouncing off.

  “It seems that lack of focus could be detrimental though,” Ling Qi said.

  “A possibility,” Luo Zhong admitted. “But we cannot all be blessed by fortune. Some endeavors fail, and thus, it is important to have other plans.”


  Ling Qi shot him a look out of the corner of her eye as the hill began to quake in rapid succession, light flashing and air rumbling as Wang Chao began to attempt to batter through in earnest.

  “And you see opportunity here?” Ling Qi asked.

  “The Xuan will be a greater presence going forward. It would be good if I could make connections. The same goes for your matter. It seems I might have made an error though,” Luo Zhong said.

  “This is, after all, an informal gathering. I am sure you will have opportunities, if your impression is good,” Ling Qi said.

  “This reversal does not escape me. But look, Sect Brother Wang is about to make a breakthrough.”


  Ling Qi looked back in time to see the fragments of a broken tile fall to the ground and hear the faint crack of shattering ceramic.

  Wang Chao stood, breathing heavily on the cratered hilltop, but a moment later, he grinned. “So there is a limit to how much energy you can redirect!”


  “Brother Wang is vigilant,” Xuan Shi said, a touch of pride in his voice. “But can he keep up such speed for long enough?”


  “Nay, not like this. But it’s interesting! You aren’t stopping me; that would be much harder! You are stealing my momentum!”


  She thought she saw Xuan Shi smiling behind his collar. “Repurposing the enemy's qi allows the technique to maintain itself for longer action. But Brother Wang has seen that the storage may be overwhelmed.”


  “Hmph, perhaps with my beast and my spear, I might break through for a few blows,” Wang Chao said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. ”But truly, I am not certain I could defeat you unaided, Sect Brother.”


  He did sound a little disgruntled but not much. Xuan Shi’s status as a ducal scion must have salved any wounded ego.

  “Unbreakable defense is where the sons of the Savage Seas excel, even one such as me,” Xuan Shi said.

  “Does it work as well with spiritual attacks?” Wang Chao asked.

  “Perhaps Sister Ling would care to try?” Xuan Shi redirected.

  “Of course,” Ling Qi said with a nod. She stepped forward, passing Wang Chao, who was already loudly blustering about his performance and Xuan Shi’s talismans to Luo Zhong.

  She came to stop a few meters from Xuan Shi only to pause as a voice spoke in her mind.

  “
” Kongyou’s tone was gratingly cheerful.

  “
” Ling Qi thought back, keeping her expression even.

  “I hope my performance isn’t too disappointing. I haven’t been cultivating my direct attacks much recently,” Ling Qi said aloud.

  “The type of assault offers more than its potency.” Xuan Shi spread his arms wide. “Please, test me, Sect Sister.”


  Threads 220-Second Day 4

  Ling Qi sang a high clear bar. The wind howled, the ground frosted, and the whirling panels immediately snapped together into a solid dome that flashed a deep blue as it met the force of her Hoarfrost Refrain.

  Ling Qi allowed silver to bleed into her eyes as she studied the way her offensive qi scattered. It struck like a blizzard wind but had shattered on contact with the tiles. Strands of qi had been unwound and separated, a fractal breaking that shredded the qi of her attack into smaller and smaller parts absorbed by the tiles.

  The wind whipped up, her gown and cloak fluttered, and the ice of winter howled again to the same effect. Three times more, a quick and strident melody, and Ling Qi’s eyes narrowed. The feeling of his defense was all too familiar.

  Isolation.

  Weaponized, or perhaps, armorized? That was what his defenses did. They broke things down again and again until each strand of qi and each mote of power was alone and weak, then absorbed them. The adaptive component… Each time a similar construct was used against him, his art and the arrays of the talismans were able to break the offending technique down faster and more efficiently, taking less damage.

  Her voice rose, and an eagle screamed. The tremendous phantom swooped down and dashed itself upon the intractable barrier that met it. Twice more, the eagle, and then again, the ice. The Hoarfrost scattered slower this time, not quite as slow as the first time she had used it,but slower all the same.

  “Sister Ling has had a revelation,” Xuan Shi said mildly as the barrier around him broke apart, leaving them face-to-face on the now well ruined hilltop.

  “It is a powerful effect, but as with anything, there are limits. It is still very impressive.”


  “Not so much,” he deflected.

  Ling Qi nodded, but her thoughts were distant. It felt strange to encounter a concept so familiar in another's art.

  The texture of the concept expressed through these talismans felt different compared to her own understanding, embedded now forever in the blade that was a part of herself. It was privation of a sort, but the closest she could come to articulating the difference was that she cultivated loneliness in scarcity, the deprived wasteland of deepest winter. Xuan Shi’s isolation seemed more like that of a starving man surrounded by a feast he couldn’t touch, the feeling of being alone even in the densest crowd.

  It was familiar, but not quite intersecting with her understanding.

  “Sister Ling?” Xuan Shi’s voice broke her from her thoughts.

  She raised her head and put on a smile. “Apologies. I lost myself in thought for a moment. I think that’s enough of an initial test for me.”


  “As Sister Ling wishes,” Xuan Shi said, bowing his head.

  Ling Qi returned the gesture and turned away. “Shall you give it a try, Sir Luo?”


  “My host is gracious. I may have a technique or two to try.”


  “Feel free, son of Luo,” Xuan Shi invited.

  Ling Qi moved back from the cleared area to stand beside Zhengui, resting a hand on his head as Luo Zhong took up the field. “Thank you for preparing the ground, Zhengui,” she said, brushing her fingers over smooth scales.

  “Zhen was pleased to help,” his other half said snootily, bumping his broad head against her shoulder. Ling Qi chuckled and reached up to rub the serpent’s brow ridges.

  “It’s kinda boring with everyone busy,” Gui said quietly. “But that is good ‘cause it gives Zhen and Gui time to think.”


  “It gives I, Zhen, time to argue with thickheaded Gui perhaps,” the serpent corrected.

  Ling Qi gave a small hum of acknowledgement. She knew Zhengui needed time to contemplate and work through things too. Beast cultivation was narrower, but not so different from her own cultivation.

  As she watched, Luo Zhong politely bowed to Xuan Shi before a flick of his wrist brought a paper talisman into his hands.

  “I’ll find time to talk to you if you need it,” she offered. She wasn’t going to be overbearing, but she would be available.

  Zhen gave a happy hiss as she gave his head one last pat and returned her hand to the top of Gui’s head.

  Qi burned across the characters inked on the talisman in Luo Zhong’s hand, and Ling Qi cocked her head as she felt threads of qi extending into the spiritual realm, calling, or rather, pulling on something like a leash or a tether. Crimson fire bloomed within the circling tiles, right between Xuan Shi’s feet.

  The whirling tiles slammed down in a solid dome, cutting Xuan Shi off from the outside entirely. A breath passed, and then, they came apart. The fire was gone.

  “Well, it would have been disappointing if it was really so easy,” Luo Zhong said, unperturbed.The same fire burned on one character of the paper talismans, fitful and sparking.

  “To create a construct within the defenses was an obvious solution. But one would be more foolish not to try, if the option is there.”


  Ling Qi watched Luo Zhong nod and sweep the talisman held between his fingers through a few rapid, sharp movements. The light burning in the characters changed, red bleeding to silver, lighting up new characters. Again, she felt a pull on threads extending out of the material.

  “What fun,” Wang Chao said loudly as he reached her side. He watched with interest as a horse-sized hound of silver fire erupted from the earth under Xuan Shi’s feet, carrying him skyward on the platform formed of the barrier panels that had snapped into place under his feet. The talisman in Luo Zhong’s hand swept through the air vertically, trailing glittering blue light, and a second hound wrought of clouds and lightning coalesced from the mist left behind by her own arts, diving down to strike like lightning against the dome forming over Xuan Shi’s head. “It seems like Brother Luo is taking this seriously!”


  Ling Qi glanced his way. “It does seem so. What is the art he is using? Those aren’t bound spirits. I can tell that much.”


  “Luo contract techniques,” Wang Chao said. “He used them in our tournament too.”


  That jogged Ling Qi’s memory. In studying the clans of Emerald Seas, she had seen mentions that the Luo had retained a somewhat unorthodox spirit binding and relations tradition from their branch of the Weilu. She’d not put much thought into it before.

  Green light burned on a talisman. The silver wolf dissolved, and the wind picked up with an animal howl, a nigh invisible green flash the only sign of the third “spirit” summoned. It felt like sharp edges and spring wind, and she saw chips of ceramic go flying as it struck innumerable times in quick succession at the whirling panels.

  “So that’s why I can feel his qi pulling at something out of sight,” Ling Qi mused.

  Sixiang whispered.

  “Right. Contract arts don’t allow the full spirit to be drawn on, only a certain fraction determined by negotiations,” Wang Chao explained, putting on his knowledgeable voice. “And only to do certain specific things.”


  Push and pull, give and take. That explained what she was feeling from those weird liminal connections. It was not too unlike what she’d done with the river spirit, offering power for a service or boon.

  Transaction was not completely alien to her own thoughts of community and communication, but the way Luo Zhong employed it felt coarse to her. Impersonal was perhaps a better descriptor.

  The lightshow on the hill ended as Xuan Shi crashed back to earth. There was a single tiny chip in the brim of his hat. “An Impressive trick. Such a small thing, slipping in amidst the bright and flashing threats. This one will have to adjust the formation’s threat detection.”


  Luo Zhong smiled faintly, raising his hand to allow a glittering dragonfly seemingly made from glass to alight on his fingers. “Against powerful techniques, your work is truly superlative, Brother Xuan. This little trick could hardly change the course of a battle.”


  “Perhaps not alone,” Xuan Shi said, inclining his head. “Nonetheless, this one humbly thanks Brother Luo for providing this consideration.”


  “That was a fine demonstration!” Wang Chao interjected, walking off toward the two of them. Ling Qi sighed, and giving Zhengui one last pat on the head, followed after.

  “A good opening,” Xuan Shi agreed. “Thou must all be considering paths toward circumventing mine technique by now.”


  He sounded pleased by that. It seemed that Xuan Shi did have something of a competitive streak, if pushed.

  “Maybe, maybe,” Wang Chao said with a grin. “What sort of form do you think the game should take going forward?”


  “Perhaps paired contests?” Luo Zhong suggested. “My own cultivation advantage does weight things, but Brother Xuan’s mastery is great.”


  “I believe we were thinking of something similar. A few scenarios with more complex objectives might be enjoyable,” Ling Qi agreed.

  “True. The wide world is no dueling arena,” Xuan Shi said.

  “Ah, game objectives. How fun!” Wang Chao boomed. “I’d object to Ling Qi and Sir Xuan teaming up. I can’t imagine dealing with that to be less than obnoxious.”


  Ling Qi cocked an eyebrow. “Am I to be insulted, Sir Chao?”


  “Hah, as if! I know you feel complimented by that sort of thing.” Wang Chao grinned at her.

  Xuan Shi chuckled. “I and Sir Wang then?”


  Ling Qi looked over at Luo Zhong. He still wore an expression of pleasant interest. She thought she might have a better grip on the older boy now. She doubted they would ever be friends, but it was unrealistic to imagine that she could be friends with everyone.

  “That seems fair. One senior and one junior disciple for each side. I’m afraid I don’t stack up to a scion of the great Xuan clan though.”


  “Sister Ling should be less humble,” Xuan Shi said, surprising her. It had been a rote bit of etiquette, not the sort of statement that would earn a response.

  “Brother Xuan is too kind,” she said reflexively. “Anyway, I doubt we want something as simple as a head-to-head duel…”


  “Oh! Zhen and Gui can make a thing for capturing! Those games are fun!” her little brother announced.

  “A flag capture game,” Wang Chao said thoughtfully. “I have no objections.”


  “Nor I,” Luo Zhong agreed pleasantly.

  They spoke a little longer, deciding the rules. The victory objective would be of middling size and movable, and the defenders would have five minutes to prepare. The offensive team would win if they could take and hold the objective for two minutes while the defensive team would win if they held for the time limit of ten minutes or took the objective back after losing it and then held it for two minutes themselves. Sixiang and Kongyou would be valid participants, but there would be no other bound beasts involved.

  Luo Zhong and she descended the hill to give the others time to prepare.

  “You see the benefit the rules give us?” Luo Zhong ventured.

  “Yes. It doesn’t require Brother Xuan’s defenses to be broken, merely bypassed. Quite gracious.” It made things more fun after all. Ling Qi appreciated the consideration.

  “Gracious, yes,” Luo Zhong said thoughtfully. “You have been quite gracious yourself.”


  She gave him a sidelong look as they reached the bottom of the hill. “It is uncomfortable for a guest to be left on their own to grasp a group's dynamics.”


  “True,” Luo Zhong agreed, looking up at the stars. “One who does manage earns more respect, I think. But it is a shame if they never return.”


  Sixiang scoffed.

  Personally, Ling Qi wasn’t certain she bought his words, but she acknowledged that they approached social situations differently.

  “Time is a cruel master. One never has enough of it,” Ling Qi countered. “When weighing which engagements to attend, is it wrong to place weight on those which are enjoyable as well as profitable?”


  Luo Zhong smiled thinly. “We all weigh our priorities differently. Such is life. But, all the same, a wider network has better utility than a smaller one.”


  “On that, we must disagree. I find that a smaller, more trusted circle is superior. But I can at least understand your contention. The thought is much the same as what goes into those contracts of yours, isn’t it?”


  “The Luo lands are wide, and we have ever been more mobile than our erstwhile peers. New resources and agreements must be pursued aggressively,” Luo Zhong said, giving a slight dip of his head. “Our familial arts are a reflection of our lives. One must be both persistent on the hunt and flexible in action.”


  “Aggressiveness can be a negative trait too,” Ling Qi said blandly.

  He frowned. “I admit, I am at a loss for when aggressiveness has been my sin against you, Lady Ling.”


  Ling Qi dropped the point. In the end, his dispute with Bao Qingling wasn’t her business.

  “Ah, you do have a connection through that Li Suyin, who leaped over us all,” Luo Zhong realized. “And I suppose you would have seen that embarrassing incident. I apologize if it made you think poorly of me. I allowed frustration to make me hasty and unwise. That pursuit should have been left in private.”


  “Why continue pursuing a deal that is clearly unwanted?”


  “Because I believe it really is the best arrangement possible for both of us, and she will not even list what objections she has that I might address them,” Luo Zhong said, a touch of frustration and dissatisfaction in his voice. “But we are veering into personal matters.”


  “You don’t see it as… unworthy for a man to pursue a woman that way?” Ling Qi asked warily.

  He blinked, and for just a moment, she saw genuine confusion on his face before comprehension dawned. “I see. From your point of view, it must seem much more predatory. I assure you, I have no capability to do a single thing to that woman she does not allow, nor would I if I could. It is merely a contract dispute which has grown heated… and realistically, one likely to be abandoned. That I gave you such an ugly impression is something I sincerely apologize for.”


  Ling Qi took in a deep breath of the cool afternoon air. So much like Renxiang in a way. Luo Zhong seemed wholly sincere, as if those implications had never even occurred to him. Indeed, she felt that he was quite sincere in apologizing, but she simply couldn’t accept them.

  Sixiang murmured.

  “I accept your apology,” Ling Qi said politely. “So, what are your thoughts on our strategy?”


  Threads 221-Family 1

  Ling Qi danced through the newly grown woods atop the hill, a wraith of dream and wind and mist flickering in the shadow of blossoming green and verdant qi. She ran, leaped, and played along the web of qi that ran through the local dream, following them to their anchors.

  Luo Zhong’s arts felt disconcerting. There was a resemblance to the wild qi that coursed through Alingge’s meridians, but she could see the places where they diverged. She could see where the ancient, nameless people became hill and forest and mountain and then Weilu and hill tribe. His qi was paper and ink, leather and metal, bindings and tethers and words.

  Her foot fell upon a narrow branch, barely bending the pale green wood. Sound erupted around her, the noise of a dozen snarling and howling hounds returning in force, as Ling Qi dipped back into the physical world. She felt the wind shift before she saw the man-sized bullet shoot toward her, Wang Chao catapulting himself at such speed that she could not even perceive him as more than a blur.

  She dispersed, no more than a cold winter breeze, a shower of snowflakes and chilled air, and in spirit, she grasped a tether of fire and metal, letting it pull her along to her destination.

  Yet for all that his aura was a net of bindings, it still resonated with her own qi. Connection. Community. Luo Zhong was not, Ling Qi thought, as wise and savvy as he liked to portray, but he was only one knot in a wider net. His contracted spirits were manifestations of the spirit of his family's city. She felt that strength touching on him, mother and father and siblings and relatives all bound to a great spirit that had seen them all grow from diapers. It was an immense support. It was an immense pressure. Luo Zhong was just one dog in the pack, full of pride and desire to give back what he had given, his drive overriding all concerns for those outside the pack.

  Spirit contracts aside, this was family as most in the Empire saw it. Binding and obligation. Duty and responsibility. Blood, above all other concerns. It bothered her like a fly buzzing in her ear. Family was an obligation, but that understanding was incomplete.

  She doubted Luo Zhong would have been pleased to know just how much she could read him through the rivers of qi flowing into the liminal, which he had left for her navigation. Even now, he underestimated her. Then again, perhaps that was unfair; so few knew of her growing study of dreams yet.

  Sixiang reminded.

  Of course, it was Sixiang’s new talent for possessing qi constructs which allowed this to work at all. Sixiang possessed a summon, and then Luo Zhong’s contract and her bond allowed her to swiftly pull herself to Sixiang’s location.

  Ling Qi reemerged back into the material to hear a tremendous bang that shook the hill. A slender hound made of crimson fire stood upon a crackling plane of joined ceramic panels, shrouded in glittering mist. Its canine face gave the impression of grinning, and its eyes sparkled black like Sixiang’s.

  Behind the panels, Xuan Shi stood with his hands raised, feet set wide. On his back was strapped a long stick of green wood with a single bright orange leaf sprouting from its top. Zhengui’s flag. Ling Qi grinned. The silly thing really took the seriousness out of the air.

  She met Xuan Shi’s eyes through the gaps in the panels and saw them widen as her gaze flicked over his shoulder to where a tiny gossamer winged butterfly rested on the flag, shrouded in glittering rainbow mist.

  The panels moved quickly like the door of a vault, snapping shut to isolate forever the priceless treasure within. But she was the wind, and no vault could keep her out.

  An instant later, the flag was in her hands.

  Then, the panels snapped shut around her, a featureless prison without hinges, doors, or cracks, split only by the wide grin of nightmare. Ling Qi laughed.

  Of course it wouldn’t be so easy.

  It took the full twenty minutes before the game finally ended. The flag had ultimately ended up in her hands, but she didn’t think either she or Xuan Shi cared that much. It had been fun, and that was enough.

  But all diversions had their end, and soon, Ling Qi was on her way back to meet with Cai Renxiang.

  ***

  “I hope your meeting went well,” Cai Renxiang greeted. Her voice was clipped, and Ling Qi could see some of the subtle signs of stress that only someone close to the heiress would notice in her posture and expression.

  “It went—” Ling Qi paused, considering her words. They walked through the loose crowds moving between the noble pavilions. The great cathedral-like cloth structure of the Cai tent loomed large ahead. “—acceptably. Xuan Shi and Wang Chao are both doing well.”


  Whatever her thoughts on the extra person there, her main goal had been a success. Wang Chao was too bullish to let someone he perceived as a friend isolate themselves too much. Of course, that personality could backfire too, but for now, she’d call it a win.

  “How did Her Grace take your message?” Ling Qi asked.

  “My mother will begin a correspondence negotiating a state meeting,” Cai Renxiang reported tersely. “It will be delayed. It would be inappropriate for a commander to leave the field at a campaign’s denouement, and it would be further inappropriate to receive one of King Shao’s status in a military camp.”


  Ling Qi digested that. It seemed a very lukewarm, but indisputably polite, response on the Duchess’ part to her. That, she supposed, was to be expected.

  “It is likely that this is only an opening exchange,” Cai Renxiang said. “These kinds of negotiations are never simple.”


  Ling Qi gave a shallow nod. Sun Shao’s sudden interest in a meeting and a military campaign were almost certainly meant to disrupt the Duchess’ plans and strain her relations with the Bai. Yet, because of who he was, she could not simply ignore or trample over him as the Duchess might a lesser obstacle.

  Ling Qi felt a twinge of discomfort at that. Even the peak of cultivation was not immune to the winds of the world. She should have known that. Had Sun Shao not been humiliated last year? The victory she had cheered for in the finals had meant the eighth realm King of the West had watched his great-granddaughter be beaten and humiliated with no recourse.

  “What troubles you?” Cai Renxiang asked, glancing over her shoulder as they reached the open square before the Cai pavilion.

  Ling Qi realized that she had stopped, her expression scrunching up into a scowl. She smoothed her features and offered her liege a smile. “I’m just considering some of the strategic troubles we might face.”


  Renxiang didn’t seem to entirely believe her, but she didn’t press, resuming their walk.

  Was being safe really so impossible?

  Ling Qi dismissed the troubling thought from her mind. She expected a comment from Sixiang, but the muse was silent. They were stepping into the realm of the Cai after all. Yes, that was certainly the reason.

  They approached the pavilion, but then, they turned aside at the entrance, following a path which led around the left side.

  “I am glad you did not forget your appointment given all the excitement.”


  “Don’t be absurd. I do not forget appointments,” Renxiang said stiffly.

  They rounded the corner of the pavilion, coming into sight of the carriage yard. The Duchess’ carriage was just as resplendent as it had been last year, though lacking its beasts. There was also a second, more humble carriage painted in pale green, but it, too, was thrumming with qi enhancement. Presumably, that was the carriage of Diao Luwen, Cai Renxiang’s father. Beside the two carriages was a third. Larger and bulkier, it was painted a light rose pink.

  Ling Qi had felt the security formations of Elder Sima Jiao when she had entered the command tent of the Sect’s forward base under the earth. She had felt the open threat of the security formations wrought upon the Bai ambassador’s chambers. She had felt the overwhelming presence of the court at Xiangmen and the ancient pillars of beast bone there.

  None of them made the hairs on the back of her neck rise like this simple unobtrusive pink carriage. It felt wholly mundane; she couldn’t even feel the flow of basic arrays meant to strengthen the wood and stave off the need for maintenance. Somehow, that made the carriage feel even more ominous.

  Two White Plume soldiers stood near it, but they felt almost like accessories.

  “Lady Cai.” One of the soldiers stepped forward, clapping his fists together and bowing his head. “Her Grace has informed us that you and your retainer are to be allowed access to the young miss.”


  “Thank you, Captain Wei,” Renxiang said evenly.

  “Please be aware that the interior of the carriage is under the effect of qi suppression and prepare yourself accordingly,” the soldier replied, stepping aside to open the way.

  Ling Qi had heard of the effect. It was mostly used for imprisoning very politically sensitive criminals. Renxiang had used something similar for their opponents in the first year, but their version was only rated for lower ranking cultivators. Anything for stronger opponents was hellishly expensive to maintain.

  She followed Renxiang up the steps of the carriage and through the door. She winced as she crossed the threshold, almost missing a step as the door closed behind it. It felt like being punched in the gut to suddenly have all of her meridians shut down at once like that day in the blizzard with Zeqing so long ago. She could barely even feel the energy in her dantian.

  She was still far from mortal. No formation could take away the qi she had molded into flesh and bone over the last two years or the changes she had made directly to her spirit. Her mist still slept under her skin. Still, she felt… less.

  The interior of the carriage was filled with a soft light and softer furnishings. Small tapestries covered the walls, and her feet sank into the thick and fuzzy carpet. It was naturally larger on the inside than out.

  At the far end of the cozy chamber, there was a large crib carved of immaculately shaped and polished white wood and filled with a luxurious mattress and silken blankets. Over it hung an arrangement of crystal and jade chimes, turning slowly. The chimes were the only source of qi in the room, just a simple little formation that sent out timed puffs of wind to make the chimes play a soothing tune.

  They shouldn’t have worked under the suppression, but that was the work of an eighth realm.

  Beside the crib was an older woman, just barely third realm, who was already bowing deeply to her liege.

  “The young miss has just been fed and cleaned, Lady Cai,” the nursemaid said. “She is a calm child so all should be well. Would Lady Cai like me to stay and attend?”


  “No,” Renxiang said, looking at the crib rather than the woman. “Although it may be for the best.”


  That sort of uncertainty from Renxiang felt truly unnatural to Ling Qi.

  The nursemaid nodded once, businesslike. “I had thought so. Privacy with family is important.” Ling Qi felt the woman's eyes flick her way. “I will leave, but if the young miss needs anything, please ring the bell on that table. It will signal me.”


  Ling Qi felt like this woman must be very familiar with higher ranking cultivators. Would her own servants gain this unflappable air in time?

  Renxiang murmured an agreement, and the nursemaid bustled on out, not giving them another look. Renxiang took a few steps closer and she followed.

  Cai Tienli lay in the crib, one chubby fist stuffed firmly in her mouth. She was a baby like any other Ling Qi had seen save for the richness of her swaddling. Perhaps her hair was growing in a little quickly given her age, a light honey brown fuzz on her scalp. Her skin was a shade duskier than her sister’s, more resembling their father or the Prime Minister. Her eyes were bright green, and they followed the slow movement of the glittering chimes above as she chewed on her fist.

  Somehow, Ling Qi had expected the baby to be stranger. Maybe, she should have an inkling of glitter around her, a precursor to the halos of light that surrounded her mother and sister. Then again, Ling Qi thought, eyeing Renxiang’s back, even her sister’s halo had grown less pronounced, hadn’t it? She didn’t quite remember when that had changed and Renxiang’s aura had begun to dim and fade away in calm times.

  But no, Cai Tienli was just a baby, if one that seemed to have an unusually steady gaze.

  Renxiang laid on her hands on the side of the crib and looked down, expression unreadable. The baby's eyes flicked toward her, the object obstructing the view of the chimes, and made a wet sound, reaching up her spit-covered hand.

  Cute.

  “What am I meant to feel right now?” Cai Renxiang asked.

  “I’m not sure I understand, Lady Renxiang.”


  “I do not understand why I was allowed here. What does Mother want from this?” Renxiang looked down at her sister, who let out another wet gurgle in response.

  Ling Qi had not really considered it from that point of view. She had not thought of what Shenhua intended to result from this meeting. “I wonder if that is a helpful way to think of things.”


  “Am I meant to discover affection, thus binding the Cai clan more closely to avoid future strife? Am I meant to see a rival, a show of how easily I may be replaced if my performance wavers? Am I meant to…”


  Ling Qi laid a hand on Renxiang’s shoulder as the wood creaked under the heiress’ grasp. Below, Cai Tienli’s face scrunched up as if she might cry.

  “Isn’t it better to think ‘what do I want from this’? Lady Renxiang, you’ve already made choices that surprised your mother, haven’t you?”


  She didn’t believe the Duchess really thought they would choose the project they had.

  “Even if she intends my latitude, I still do not know what to feel. This child is my sister. What does this mean? In many clans, we would be rivals. In the classic conception of clan duty, we are meant to support and work in harmony.”


  “I think you are supposed to love your siblings.”


  “I do not know what that means,” Renxiang said with a sharp frustration. “No one ever defines love. Instinctive understanding is always expected. It is unlikely that we will see one another on more than the passing occasion and at formal events. What does that statement mean in this context?”


  Ling Qi pursed her lips. “I don’t know if I have a good answer. There's a difference between clan and family. You are born into a clan. You are obligated to support and aid your clan. Family, I think, is something else.”


  It was a distinction she had been pondering for a while now, here and there.

  “What, then, is family?”


  “Family are those who you keep by you, not out of obligation, but because they make you happy enough to take up that obligation willingly.”


  Renxiang didn’t answer at first, and in the crib, Cai Tienli started to cry.

  Threads 222-Family 2

  Renxiang’s hand moved toward the bell as Cai Tienli cried.

  “Cai Renxiang, do you want a sister?”


  Her liege didn’t answer, but she also didn’t touch the bell. In the absence of heated voices, the baby’s cries began to die down as well.

  “Do you know what the root of corruption is, Ling Qi?”


  “Greed, I suppose.” Ling Qi crossed her arms. She had an inkling of what was going to be said.

  “Avarice plays its part.” Cai Renxiang lowered her hand into the crib, and the baby grasped at her fingers, the last of her cries trailing off into gurgling curiosity. “But no, family is the root of corruption. A man pays an examiner to grade his son kindly. A woman speaks to her sister in the Ministry of Law and has a child’s indiscretion swept under the rug. A man and his brother look out for one another and quash all competition for their positions. For some, it is pure greed. But for most, it is the desire to put their family ahead.”


  Ling Qi frowned, stepping up beside her liege. “Is that truly corruption though? That’s just people working as they do. Of course you want to help people you care about.”


  Her breath caught in her throat as she caught a flash of light out of the corner of her eye like a knife blade ghosting against her throat. The ringing chimes turned, innocently glittering in the dim light.

  “It is, and that is the reason why corruption can never be truly stamped out. You may cut the branches, fell the trunk, and burn the leaves, but the root remains. It begins with little things, but it grows and grows. This is, I think you are right to say, being human. One who aspires to rule cannot have this. To rule with such personal biases is an abrogation of the responsibilities of my position.”


  Ling Qi changed tacks. “The Scholar Kong often compares the ruler to the head of household; their responsibilities and duties are much the same. Reciprocal obligation is the root of good rulership, as much as personal virtue.”


  For a moment, her liege actually smiled. It was a thin, brief thing. “Your memorization has improved, Ling Qi. But I do not think the scholar’s words make your point. In your conception, his wisdom is most certainly designed around what you call clan.”


  “You can find wisdom in a work even if you don’t agree with the author.” Ling Qi huffed.

  “What is the obligation of a sibling, Ling Qi, in your own words?” Cai Renxiang asked.

  “You offer them affection, tutelage, and protection,” Ling Qi said, thinking of Biyu. “You help them avoid your own troubles.”


  Cai Renxiang watched the baby in the crib. “I am known as cold and impersonal, and my duties will demand distance and travel. What affection can I offer? I am a mere young mistress, whatever my title. What tutelage can I, who can not even fully comprehend Mother’s arts, give which would exceed what my mother will arrange?” She paused, and then continued before Ling Qi could respond. “And of the things which could threaten a daughter of the Cai, what protection can I offer?”


  Ling Qi swallowed. Whatever she was going to say was silenced by those whisper quiet words. Her mind filled with a child screaming and eyes of glass in an artificial face, so unsettling like her liege’s. She had no retort. None that would not stick in her own throat as a lie.

  “You are not cold. And I do not think distance is truly so great an obstacle.”


  Cai Renxiang didn’t answer.

  “Renxiang,” Ling Qi continued insistently, “you haven’t answered my question.”


  “I do not know, Ling Qi. I do not even know how to evaluate that question. It is irrelevant. What I want cannot be what I do. The Emerald Seas is more important than Cai Renxiang. That is what it means to rule well. I cannot act against that.”


  Ling Qi felt a twinge of sadness. “I advised you once before that you do no one any good if you break yourself.”


  “And I have heard you, my advisor,” Cai Renxiang said, straightening up. Her fingers escaped the baby's grasp. “But I will not stumble over the line from maintenance into indulgence. I understand and accept your point of view, but the responsibility I have been born to and that Tienli has been born to is heavier than what you bear, even now.”


  Renxiang spoke with poise and conviction, but Ling Qi was not fooled. She was hurting herself, even if she was wholly sincere.

  Cai Renxiang backed up a step from the crib and formally bowed her head. “Your elder sister greets you, Cai Tienli. May you bring much pride to the Cai clan in the future.”


  Cai Tienli let out a wet hiccup, her head turning to follow Cai Renxiang with an infant's incomprehension.

  “Come, Ling Qi. I have done my duty.” Cai Renxiang swept past her toward the door.

  “Yes, Lady Cai.”


  ***

  The rail under her forearms was warm, heated by the formations. The noise of the tournament grounds was a buffer against her thoughts.

  The rest of the previous evening had been spent in a whirlwind of minor meetings and politicking, supporting her liege as they worked to drum up more than lukewarm acceptance of their task. It had felt more tiring than usual, mostly because of the question in the back of her thoughts.

  Where did one stand when they knew they couldn’t fulfill their duty to their family?

  She winced as a body went sprawling in the tournament grounds below. Gun Jun had been knocked from his feet for the eighth time. Lu Feng tossed him about like a child, and there was little he could do. Even Ling Qi felt some sympathy as the young man rose shakily to his feet despite the obvious tremors. She suspected he had fractured something on that last throw.

  “He should yield,” Lao Keung said from beside her. “There is no honor in hurling yourself face first into a wall.”


  “I do not know about that. In battle, certainly, but this is a tournament. Showing persistence has its virtues.”


  “Showing pride.” The young man beside her snorted.

  “Pride is the luxury of the strong. But who is it who wishes to admit being weak?”


  “A living man,” Lao Keung retorted.

  “I admit some sympathy to both points,” Bai Meizhen interjected from the seating behind them. “It is somewhat distasteful to give the Sun so much opportunity to gloat, but to admit loss is difficult.”


  “But unavoidable in the end,” Cai Renxiang concluded.

  There was a thunderous crash from the arena. Lu Feng had grown bored and finished the match with a single strike, sending Gan Guangli’s friend crashing through the trunks of the trees they had been battling amidst with a contemptuous flick of his wrist. It made the whole battle more sour that he likely could have done so at any time instead of toying with the younger disciple.

  “I, for one, admire his resilience,” Xia Anxi said, casting a careful look at Meizhen. “As the lady says, pride is not something to be so easily cast aside.”


  Lao Keung grunted.

  Below, the false environment dissolved, and Lu Feng bowed toward the crowds, or rather, the box where Sun Liling and the other visitors from the Western Territories were seated. Leaving the arena, he passed Gan Guangli. There was an exchange, but Ling Qi couldn’t hear it.

  “The next match is your peer against the girl from the ruined clan, isn’t it?” Lao Keung asked.

  “Yes. Chu Song. I faced her myself last year.”


  “If our hosts will forgive the question, what crime did the Chu clan commit?”


  “Refusal of a full county census and accounting of military assets,” Cai Renxiang answered. “And assault on a provincial official. The inspector sent to perform the census returned without his tongue or eyes. Later, treason when they refused the second order.”


  “Such bold defiance. I cannot imagine how they thought such a thing would end for them.” A subtle sneer curled Meizhen’s lips.

  In the arena below, Gan Guangli and Chu Song squared up.

  “The consensus is that they believed that Her Grace’s hold on the province was weak despite all her personal might and that the other counts were merely waiting to be rallied against her reforms,” Cai Renxiang said.

  “After all, if one duke had been cast down, what protected this one?” Lao Keung asked rhetorically. He earned a sharp look from Xia Anxi.

  Meizhen smiled thinly. “It is natural that new strength will be tested. And it is just as natural that those who overestimate themselves will be crushed.”


  “That is the way of the world,” Lao Keung agreed. “Still, a shameful waste. The elders of Chu were truly blind fools.”


  “Is it a waste? Such weasels would have always been poised to bite the neck of the province if left unmolested,” Xia Anxi said haughtily. “Better that they be fools than wise.”


  “True. What of this one then?” Lao Keung asked Ling Qi. “You punished her for defiance the year before, and your fellow retainer is poised to do so now. When do you believe it will be enough?”


  “Even now, for all her pain, she lives above all but a few in the province. She has been allowed into the Inner Sect on the back of her talent. I do not think it is fair to say that she is still being punished by anyone but herself.”


  “An interesting perspective. Yes, I suppose from the dust, even a hut must seem like a manor.”


  Ling Qi glanced his way. He looked pensive.

  Below, the match was beginning.

  “You seem like you have thought a great deal on this subject,” Ling Qi said.

  In the arena, the illusory environment began to take shape. A great rushing river hundreds of meters across flowed through a sharp canyon cleft between two mountains. Islands of stone dotted the rushing waters, and it was there on the slick stone that the combatants appeared.

  “When does retribution become enough?”


  Lao Keung didn’t answer at first, watching the opening moves below. Chu Song was speaking, her frame tense and angry. Gan Guangli stood in a defensive stance, his expression solemn, listening. It was annoying to not know what they were saying. With a thought, she prodded Sixiang for help. She wouldn’t catch everything this way, but such were the limitations of the third realm.

  “Nothing to say, big man? Not gonna proclaim that you’ll crush the villain?” Chu Song scoffed.

  “I do not see a villain before me,” Gan Guangli returned calmly.

  “I view it as a matter of cost,” Lao Keung said. “All things have a value. So, too, with grudges and crimes, as well as punishment and retribution. Once a cost is paid, it should be paid and done. You call one who keeps demanding payment again and again forever a swindler, do you not?”


  Ling Qi thought of Tonghou and the people who had dogged her mother when she started receiving funds from Ling Qi. “Not a bad thought. The trouble comes in determining value.”


  “That it does,” he said agreeably.

  In the arena, Chu Song’s expression twisted. “I don’t want your damn pity!”


  “You have it nonetheless.”


  Chu Song’s footsteps kicked up spray as she dashed across the surface of the river, a cyclone of wind screaming around her blade. Gan Guangli shifted his stance, sliding a foot back as he thrust an open palm forward. Water and shattered stone erupted where they met, hiding the combatants from view, if only for a moment.

  “I’m surprised to hear so mercantile a thought from a Bai,” Ling Qi commented.

  “Mercantile? Perhaps it sounds that way. I think of it as a soldier's outlook,” Lao Keung replied.

  “How so?”


  “Have you ever heard the saying ‘a wise general spends his soldiers’ lives like precious jade’?” he asked, continuing at her nod. “It is true. We are, all of us, the resources of our superiors. We will be spent as they deem necessary. A good superior is one who spends well.”


  “You will destroy yourself trying to bring back a past no one but you longs for!” Gan Guangli’s voice boomed from the debris cloud. “This is the exact mistake that the old Chu made!”


  Light flashed, and the cloud of mist and dust blew apart. A greatsword flashed a dozen times, meeting open palms that swelled larger with each passing moment until at last the oar-sized blade met the palm with a ring and Gan Guangli’s gauntleted hand closed around it.

  “Not one who spends not at all?” Ling Qi cocked her head to the side. They spoke quietly, and their respective lieges spoke with each other, granting the appearance of privacy with simple screening.

  “You can’t live life without advancing and expending effort. This has costs,” Lao Keung said. “I do not wish for a superior who dithers and refuses to progress out of misguided sentiment any more than one who throws away their jade because they do not care for its value.”


  “Stagnation is death.”


  “Yes, although it is important to remember your own upkeep.”


  Chu Song was not swift enough to let go of her sword. Gan Guangli’s immense strength yanked her closer, and an open palm as wide as a wagon's wheel battered her once, twice, and then thrice, sending her crashing into the cliff. Stones rumbled and slid downward, rock and dirt crashing into the river.

  “And how does that relate to your thoughts on retribution?” Ling Qi asked, leaning further over the rail.

  “I suppose that I have ambitions to be spent on something that matters, rather than vanity. And I cannot call punishment that continues beyond the perpetrators’ generation anything but.”


  She saw him casting a glance back, but Meizhen did no more than give him a brief look before continuing her conversation with Cai Renxiang. Xia Anxi looked distinctly nervous at the way her conversation with Lao Keung was going.

  Stones shattered, flying up and away as Chu Song stood, armor battered and dented. A long, thin blade of green jade shot out and met a golden palm in a shower of rainbow sparks.

  “Who are you to say that? No one! You’re just another dog sniffing around for scraps!” Chu Song howled at Gan Guangli.

  “Perhaps I am no one,” Gan Guangli thundered. “But I once lived in the former Chu lands. There is no one who mourns that old clan! There are no grandfathers who tell wistful tales of better days. The Jia are not perfect, but we are better and improving with the passing years. No one wishes to go back!”


  Fists and blades of wind broke the air with ringing thunder. A tremendous fist crushed the girl back against the cliff side, and the giant standing knee-deep in the river kneeled. The fist wavered, and Ling Qi glimpsed Chu Song, buried in stone and gravel, weakly holding it back with her hands.

  “Look to the dawning sun and future days, Chu Song, and think of building anew, not of criminals dead before you had ever drawn breath. You are not a villain yet.”


  The fist crashed down again.

  Threads 223-Family 3

  Ling Qi let out a sigh.

  “Your peer retainer is dramatic,” Lao Keung said dryly.

  “He is,” Ling Qi said with a small smile. “But people remember dramatic declarations, don’t they? Certainly, the history books do.”


  It was funny. So much of her recent efforts were propelled by knowledge of the past, but internally, Ling Qi did not feel like she had ever stopped facing forward. Perhaps that is why she felt some of the appeal in Meng Diu’s ideas. Trying to stay still was futile and deadly, but that did not mean she had to ignore the path behind her.

  “I suppose they do.”


  “What is a White Serpent, towering and imperious in the center of the battle line, but dramatic?” Meizhen interjected. “A leader must be seen to lead, else they will soon have no one to rule.”


  “Yes, Gan Guangli’s rhetoric has improved. My inspection of his followers was more than satisfactory,” Cai Renxiang praised. “He will be an able officer and greatly inspiring to our soldiers.”


  “Lady Cai should not be so humble,” Ling Qi said. “You can be very inspiring as well when the mood takes you.”


  She had convinced Ling Qi after all, despite everything. She wouldn’t let the girl who she had spoken to with the first real blood on her hands disappear.

  There was a beat of silence in the box as Gan Guangli’s victory and the next match between Ma Jun and Han Jian was announced.

  “It is unseemly to talk of one's own virtues too much,” Cai Renxiang finally said.

  “But it is not wrong to accept compliments,” Bai Meizhen said airily. “I think that the future of the Cai is growing more secure.”


  The two young Bai men looked confused at the interplay.

  In the arena, Han Jian faced her old bodyguard on a field of dunes. Han Jian looked a little taller and a little more serious.

  “Hey, miss, I’m sorry about this,” Han Jian apologized.

  The starting gong sounded.

  The air cracked, and a wave of sand kicked up around the glowing scar that formed in the ground between where Han Jian had stood and Ma Jun. He stood behind her, sword held out to one side.

  The girl stood bewildered, her hair askew in the whirling wind and sand. She slowly reached up to touch the faint line of red across her throat.

  “I yield,” she said in a wavering voice.

  Ling Qi blew out a breath. If Gan Guangli reached the finals, he would have his work cut out for him.

  “The Han are in good form this year, it seems,” Cai Renxiang commented. “It is good to see a strong showing from the east.”


  “Yes, it shows their resilience,” Bai Meizhen agreed.

  “The next Han is rather less fortunate in his pairing though,” Xia Anxi said with a grin. “Alas for him, he must face our Xiao Fen.”


  “Han Fang is strong and canny,” Ling Qi said. “But the match is certainly much less in his favor.”


  She had never really seen Xiao Fen fight outside their mock spars. It would be interesting to see her face a peer.

  Mist curled among the reeds in the muddy waters. The sound of chirping crickets and buzzing insects filled the fen, and two cultivators faced off across the sluggishly flowing waters. The simulated environment of the match seemed to be pulled from the northwest of the province. A slight advantage for Xiao Fen.

  Truly, the Sect was still forced to play a careful balancing game this year with so many interests in the tournament.

  Xiao Fen proffered a polite and formal bow to her opponents, the loose black silk of her gown rustling in the wind. Between the quiet viper and the mute tiger, no words needed to be traded.

  Sixiang chuckled.

  Han Fang returned the bow and shrugged off the sand colored tunic he wore, baring a muscular chest. The air shimmered, and the jade head of a warhammer slapped into his palm. Han Fang grinned fiercely, a challenge clear in his stance.

  Xiao Fen was not so obvious, but Ling Qi caught a small smile playing about her lips as she took a combat stance, hands held as stiff and straight as blades.

  “Xiao Fen is very expressive,” Lao Keung commented.

  “Something I have encouraged in her,” Bai Meizhen replied, offering no explanation.

  Han Fang’s chest swelled with a deep breath, and a roar shattered the stillness of the fen. Wood shattered, mud flew, and water was blown away in an expanding circle some ten meters wide, and Xiao Fen leapt back, allowing the wind to carry her away from the blast wave. She landed atop the roots of a young banyan tree, crouched and ready.

  Han Fang was gone.

  In the audience, Ling Qi caught a flash of his movement among the treetops. He was using the branches to avoid the muck and water below, and he had twisted the wind like a cloak around himself, deflecting light to become nigh invisible. She saw, too, the shadow slipping away from him, stepping into shadow and vanishing. How familiar.

  Xiao Fen paused only a moment on the roots of the tree before leaping gracefully back down to a sandbar which emerged from the churning waters. Her hands wove through a brief kata as black flames bloomed on her gown, burning upward into an eight-pointed crown. Eight golden lights bloomed in the darkness.

  “The Vermin Extermination Stance?” Xia Anxi asked.

  “She asked which branch of family arts she should pursue. I intend for her to remain at my side,” Bai Meizhen explained. “Appropriate that she took a bodyguard's art.”


  “A blunt name for an art. Aren’t they usually more poetic?” Ling Qi wondered.

  The Bai men shared an unsure look.

  Meizhen answered, smiling. “The great Yao was a straightforward man. It is said he invented this art during Grandmother Serpent’s trials when she set him the duty of preventing her sleep from being disturbed by parasites.”


  “Ah,” Ling Qi said, having nothing further to say.

  Trails of dark fire followed Xiao Fen’s hands as she slowly turned. Ling Qi could feel pulses of qi rippling out from each of the “eyes.” The pulses brushed over the environment, likely forming a detailed map in the girl's mind’s eye. Ling Qi could feel the ember that clung on to every living thing it touched from the smallest fly to the largest tree.

  The air broke with thunder as a jade blur whipped through the air. Xiao Fen’s hand snapped out, shattering the hammer mid-spin into motes of green qi. The blast of impact ruffled her hair and tore at her gown. A second hammer flew, and a third, and a fourth. Xiao Fen’s arms blurred.

  The fen shook, and the light and sound was such that Ling Qi almost missed the zigzagging shadow slipping among the reeds.

  There was a tremendous crack and a roar.

  Xiao Fen spun around. The black tiger had been caught mid-pounce with Xiao Fen’s slim hands grasping the beast's front legs. An ugly scorch march burned away part of her dress, exposing a shoulder badly bruised by the impact of a hammer. The tiger’s fangs hovered just millimeters from Xiao Fen’s blank face.

  There were three ugly cracks in the space of a moment as Xiao Fen immediately dove forward and slammed her forehead into the bewildered tiger’s snout before a narrow knee rammed into the beast’s open belly and triggered a yowl of pain as black fire lanced out of the beast’s back.

  “Pragmatic, yes. Mighty Yao was most pragmatic,” Xia Anxi muttered.

  The banyan trees shook, branches whipping and leaves tearing off as a rain of spinning green lights crashed down where they stood. The crown of jewel-like eyes on Xiao Fen’s head flashed brightly.

  When the visual clutter cleared, the tiger was gone, having slipped away back into the grass, and the sandbar Xiao Fen had stood on was also gone, leaving her standing atop the choppy waters. The sleeves of her gown were shredded, and her hands lightly scorched, her fingers bruised. She was otherwise unharmed.

  Xiao Fen began to walk toward the copse of trees, her steps slow and deliberate.

  Ling Qi’s eyes found Han Fang in the trees, a grimace on his face. She could tell that whatever art allowed him to produce those explosive copies of his talisman did not come cheap on qi. He was spending more than Xiao Fen was, and the damage she had taken wasn’t slowing her down.

  His tiger, she found hidden among a root system, guts churning with toxic fire qi, looking much worse for the wear.

  The two of them were on a timer now.

  “Han Fang is superior in power, but the efficiency of his techniques still lacks somewhat,” Cai Renxiang analyzed thoughtfully. “And his reserves are below average. It seems something had to give in his cultivation.”


  “Time is the greatest enemy, as well as the last one,” Lao Keung noted.

  “Whatever else might be said, our Black Vipers are efficient souls,” Bai Meizhen said without inflection.

  Ling Qi saw the moment Han Fang made his decision after silent communication with his beast. She felt his grip on the wind loosen then tighten all at once, whirling, cutting wind garbing his body and limbs like a fine robe. His skin reddened, droplets of moisture and embers of fire forming hissing steam around his hands and hammer.

  He had taken the argent arts quite far.

  The tree he stood on shattered as did the three others that lay between him and Xiao Fen. At the last moment, the girl stabbed forward with both hands to meet the trailing edge of the blast wave and split it apart.

  They met there amidst the shattered trees, dozens of blows traded in a moment. They danced around one another with intricate footwork that tore the ground and spit up dust with every step. Twirling hammer met flame-shrouded hands countless times.

  Ling Qi saw moments of impact. Xiao Fen’s arm bent unnaturally before snapping back into place with a flex of muscle, and blood bloomed on her gown as ribs broke under the impact of a hammer blow. But the girl never cried out, and her expression never even changed.

  Every blow Han Fang struck left him out of position. A hand struck out, fingers stabbing into flesh. An elbow smashed his nose. A hard kick twisted his knee and broke his stance. Every strike also left a burning cyst of toxic fire qi under his skin.

  From the scrub around them, there was a roar, and the black tiger joined the dance, visibly slowed by poison. With two against one, it seemed for a moment as if Xiao Fen would be overwhelmed.

  Ling Qi saw Bai Meizhen wince out of the corner of her eye as Xiao Fen’s whole body tensed and her eyes went black.

  “Vermin Annihilating Breath. Honestly. It is just a tournament.” Meizhen sighed.

  “Even a Xiao has their pride,” Lao Keung said.

  Ling Qi squinted and felt the change in the younger girl’s qi. Every one of Xiao Fen’s meridians flooded with toxic black qi, and even the breath in her lungs turned to something sickly and poisonous. Xiao Fen exhaled, and the world around her withered.

  The tiger yowled in rage and pain, pulling back as the fur on its outstretched paws crisped and burned off and razor sharp claws crumbled like chalk. Han Fang leapt back as well when black flames began to lick his skin.

  Xiao Fen blurred.

  Ling Qi counted thirty-two strikes before the match-ending gong sounded.

  She leaned back in her seat as the arena deactivated and Xiao Fen fell to one knee, blood trickling from her nose. She’d have to tease the girl for straining herself like that. She knew the girl appreciated her jests, even if she pretended not to.

  Sixiang snorted.

  It was a senior’s sacred duty, Ling Qi thought serenely.

  The quarter finals had ended.

  Threads 224-Family 4

  They parted ways with the Bai delegation as usual following the closing of the day’s matches.

  This evening, she and Cai Renxiang were going to attend another gathering of the Duchess. This time, Gan Guangli would be allowed to attend. She thought that boded well for him.

  For now, she was free, and she found her way back to the crafting competition where she had promised to meet Li Suyin.

  She found the girl sitting in the back rows with Su Ling and surprisingly, Bao Qingling. More surprisingly, it was Su Ling and Bao Qingling who were in conversation.

  “So you’re saying this is something that’s actually been studied? Like I can have a place to start?” Su Ling asked as she approached.

  “I said it is a subject which has been proposed. Even with the current climate, any public studies have been stamped out,” Bao Qingling replied. The usually tense girl seemed relaxed, at least for her, which was roughly normal behavior for anyone else. “I would suggest you keep any such project to yourself.”


  “Ugh, fine,” Su Ling grumbled. Her ears twitched, and she noticed Ling Qi. “Done schmoozing already?”


  “You’re never done schmoozing,” Ling Qi said primly. “You’ll learn that soon enough.”


  Su Ling huffed irritably, Bao Qingling snorted, and Li Suyin covered her mouth with her hand. Ling Qi took up a seat on the other side of Su Ling.

  “Oh, Suyin, your eye!” Ling Qi exclaimed before swiftly lowering her voice. “When…?”


  Her friend turned to face her, smiling. For the first time in over a year, she met Ling Qi’s gaze with both of her eyes. There was still some faint scarring around the one which had been ruined, but save for a slight metallic gleam in the iris, it looked wholly natural.

  “Just before the tournament,” Li Suyin said happily.

  “You were ready a month ago. You were just dithering,” Bao Qingling said bluntly, crossing her arms.

  Li Suyin looked sheepish. “Maybe.”


  “I’m just happy you were able to do it,” Ling Qi said. It felt good to see one of her friends overcome an obstacle that had hurt them for so long. “So, what were we talking about?”


  “Was looking into some self-surgery methods,” Su Ling said. “Been feeling an itch lately.” She glanced down at the twin brown tails wrapped awkwardly around her waist.

  Ling Qi took a moment to realize what she was talking about. Su Ling must have felt she was going to grow another tail soon.

  “Removing spirit blood is a controversial subject, which I was advising this junior sister of,” Bao Qingling drawled.

  Li Suyin looked troubled. “I don’t think it's necessary, Su Ling. You’ve carved out your own path already, haven’t you?”


  “Letting the accidents of birth hold you back is wrong. We are cultivators. Cut away what you do not want or need,” Bao Qingling said with a shrug.

  “You’ve already made it your own, haven’t you?” Ling Qi looked over at Su Ling. “We couldn’t have gotten where we needed to go without your divination.”


  Su Ling grimaced, baring sharp teeth. “I can relearn that the proper way. Got the tools, just need the arts, and the Sect has some pyromancy arts in the archives.”


  Ling Qi nodded. It didn’t quite sit right with her. She knew Su Ling was never really happy with herself, but she thought the other girl had found some equilibrium. It bothered her that she’d been inattentive.

  “Well, I think that stealing your enemies' tools is a better form of spite,” Ling Qi said after a moment. “They’re yours now, no one else's.”


  “Not a terrible sentiment,” Bao Qingling said. Her eyes were fixed on the testing chamber being set up ahead.

  Today would begin the presentation of the examinees’ final projects with the second half finishing tomorrow. It was a change from last year. Apparently, more disciples had made it through the preliminary exams this year.

  Or maybe more disciples were avoiding the combat tourney.

  “I don’t know your situation, junior sister,” Bao Qingling continued. Her oddly relaxed demeanor continued to perturb Ling Qi. “Do whatever you do for yourself first. Anyone else should come second or third. That is what cultivation is.”


  Ling Qi chuckled. “Not quite how I’d put it.”


  Li Suyin smiled, reaching over to pat Su Ling on the hand. “You know my sentiments, but you have my support. And my scalpels.”


  Su Ling snorted, and Li Suyin’s smile turned impish. Ling Qi covered her mouth to muffle a laugh.

  “Right. Thanks for the image, Suyin,” Su Ling drawled.

  “You’re welcome,” Li Suyin said primly.

  Some of the tension that had formed in the air dissolved away.

  Ling Qi blew out a breath of air, watching a disciple present a talisman shield inlaid with an intricate mosaic of jade. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are your plans for the coming year? Mine are pretty well set at this point.”


  Li Suyin considered the question.”I think I will be pursuing an apprenticeship under Elder Su. She has indicated that I might have the potential. So I will be working hard in the Sect’s medicine department.”


  “Proud of you.” Su Ling nudged the shorter girl’s shoulder with her own.

  Li Suyin gave a small smile. “I’d still like to work on that project we spoke of though, Ling Qi. Making something so complex would be a great show of my abilities.”


  Ling Qi nodded. The recipe for a fourth realm breakthrough elixir was one of the treasures she’d acquired on her trip. She’d already spoken of it with Suyin before.

  Bao Qingling glanced at them in mild interest.

  “I’ll look forward to our cooperation then, Grandmistress Suyin,” Ling Qi teased.

  “Oh, stop.” Li Suyin laughed quietly.

  They quieted down for a time, watching the presentations go by.

  “Just gonna keep studying. Learning. That asshole teaching me calligraphy… He’s kinda rubbed my nose in how much I don’t know,” Su Ling said. “I dunno where I’m gonna go with that. I still gotta do what I gotta do, but maybe I’ve started thinking of after.”


  Ling Qi nodded. “After. Yeah, that’s the scary part.”


  Being able to—having to—look beyond the next moment, the next meal, the next night could be paralyzing. She wished she could know she wasn’t charging off into her own ruin. Surety, that, too, was a fruit of cultivation.

  “Small problems,” Bao Qingling said shortly, her fingers laced together in her lap. She didn’t look over at them.

  “What do you mean, Senior Sister?” Li Suyin asked.

  “Solve small problems. Break things down. One ingredient. One step. You can have a plan, but finish your current step before you start agonizing over the next one.”


  “And what’s your next step, Senior Sister?” Ling Qi followed up.

  Bao Qingling didn’t look at her, but Ling Qi felt a crawling sensation on her skin that she knew was the older girl’s attention.

  “I’ve gotten a contract with your friend. I will be the go-between for the Bao and the Bai on your little trip. It’ll be for medicines and cultivation supplies.” The corner of the girl’s thin lips curled up in a smirk. “My brother’s face when I gave him that contract.”


  “Congratulations, Senior Sister!” Li Suyin exclaimed. “Such a prestigious role.”


  Su Ling hmphed. “Good for you.”


  Ling Qi nodded in acknowledgment. She was glad that Bai Meizhen and Bao Qingling had worked something out.

  Her gaze strayed back to the contests where she saw again Jin Tae, the young man from last time she had been here, presenting his project. It was a small automata about the size of a cat made of brass and steel. It was shaped like a tiny man with wings and an exaggerated birdlike face. Actually, it looked somewhat like the great thunder spirit she had encountered with Yu Nuan. She watched as it performed various tasks, including carving new formations on tablets of clay, needing only a final infusion of qi from its maker to activate its work.

  It was among the last of the day's presentations.

  Soon, presentations were over, and she stood up with her friends as the audience began to move forward to speak with the disciples or move towards the exits. She walked beside Su Ling and Li Suyin with Bao Qingling trailing behind as they left the testing hall and the building.

  It was as they were leaving, making small chat that Ling Qi caught the feeling of having another's attention. She glanced to the side, noticing the faint twitch in Bao Qingling’s shoulders that told her that the other girl had noticed too.

  What she saw approaching them was a young woman seemingly in her early twenties. The woman wore a many layered gown in various shades of red and pink, and her aristocratic features bore subtle signs of cosmetics. Her honey brown hair was pulled up and arranged within a glittering net of fine silver chains hung with many little gemstone ornaments, carved flowers no larger than a fingernail. Her skin was a shade darker than Suyin or Bao Qingling’s but lighter than Ling Qi’s.

  A subtle nudge brought Suyin’s attention as they stepped out of the crowd and stopped politely.

  “Baroness Ling, Baroness Li, Baroness Su,” the woman greeted politely, inclining her head only slightly. Her gaze lingered a moment on Su Ling before moving to their companion. “Bao Qingling.”


  “Diao Hualing,” Bao Qingling said shortly, sounding intensely disinterested.

  It was slightly rude to give someone’s name before they could give it themselves. Diao Hualing’s stare bored into Bao Qingling's impassive face for a long few seconds.

  “It has been some time,” she finally said, turning her eyes from the taciturn crafter.

  “What might we be able to help Lady Diao with?” Ling Qi asked……

  “I had hoped to meet a few young talents this day,” Diao Hualing said formally. “The heiress’ retainer, the Argent Peak Sect’s rising expert on the impure things under the earth… and the one who has shown such talents with the art of pyromancy. A lucky convergence.”


  Su Ling shifted uncomfortably while Li Suyin smiled guilelessly. “It’s an honor to be noticed so, but my humble studies can hardly be called expertise.”


  “I disagree. But it seems I may have caught you in another engagement,” Diao Hualing said. “If—”


  “I’m going,” Bao Qingling interrupted. “Li Suyin, be at my workshop tomorrow evening for the project we discussed.”


  “Yes, Senior Sister,” Li Suyin acknowledged, glancing between the two comital scions nervously. Even she had caught the tension there.

  Bao Qingling left, and Diao Hualing watched her go for a moment before speaking. “In any case, do the three of you have plans at the moment?”


  “I was going to escort Li Suyin around and introduce her to a few people,” Ling Qi said. “Nothing more.”


  “That is convenient. Will you allow me to walk with you, Baronesses? I will not take up much of your afternoon.” The words had the air of a request, but Ling Qi glanced at her friends and saw that they understood just as well how rude it would be to deny a comital scion such a small thing, particularly when she was giving them some face by simply walking with them publicly while Ling Qi introduced Li Suyin to people.

  She saw Su Ling’s ears flatten against the side of her head in irritation though. She’d have to help that girl out with how expressive she could be.

  “It would be our honor, Lady Diao,” Ling Qi said.

  “Grand.” Diao Hualing’s eyes crinkled into thin slits as she smiled. “Let us descend then. I am afraid this high mountain air is not for me.”


  "Yes, thank you very much, Lady Diao," Li Suyin said.

  "Yeah, you're welcome to walk with us." Su Ling sounded wary, and once again, the older woman's eyes fell on her, making her squirm.

  "Such polite young ladies," Diao Hualing said blithely as they began to descend the stairs from the Sect's main plaza. "I believe I have some proposals which may interest all of you."

  Threads 225-Family 5

  “I get your interest with these two, but I’m not sure what I have to do with this,” Su Ling said warily.

  Ling Qi held in a sigh. Even if her friend had gotten better at socializing, Su Ling was still very blunt.

  Diao Hualing showed no sign of offense as they descended the steps. “It is true. Your small talents are not my primary purpose here. Nonetheless, it has some value. The Diao, like most clans in the Emerald Seas, have some traditions of divination. Pyromancy, to be exact. It interests us that these old and defunct arts have value in the modern day.”


  Su Ling mulled that over. “Alright.”


  Ling Qi was surprised at Diao Hualing’s own bluntness, but she supposed the older woman must simply have been able to read Su Ling well. She examined Diao Hualing out of the corner of her eye, wondering what she was after. Ling Qi had intended to try and speak with some of the Diao tonight at the Duchess’ gathering. Had someone gotten wind of that and decided to pre-empt her?

  “It is important for us to be able to show the proper support for the war effort. As one of the premier clans of the Emerald Seas, it is unacceptable for others to contribute more than we.”


  “No one doubts the integrity and dedication of the Diao clan,” Ling Qi said.

  The plaza disappeared into the mist above them, more of the stairs to the base of the mountain revealing themselves as the four of them descended.

  “Certainly,” Diao Hualing agreed.

  “If you do not mind my question, what is it about my humble crafts which draw such illustrious eyes?” Li Suyin asked nervously. Ling Qi could tell her friend was trying not to wring her hands.

  “You are pioneering a new field,” Diao Hualing pointed out. The faint ring of her hair ornaments echoed as they walked. “We may have an interest in some commissions. As of yet, no one else can quite provide the products you do.”


  For the rest of the descent, they kept up the careful dance of small talk and pleasantries. Diao Hualing was unfailingly polite, and the discussion mostly centered around Li Suyin’s work. Neither Ling Qi nor Su Ling were much inclined to steer the conversation their way.

  When they reached the gathering grounds and the main body of the guests, Ling Qi continued to observe their guest while taking Li Suyin around like she’d intended. Diao Hualing fulfilled her tacit promise without complaint, offering a few small words in Li Suyin’s favor and pointedly deflecting attention from herself toward the one meant to be the focus.

  She did notice, however, that in the midst of discussing a commission for Suyin with a middle-aged baron of the central valley, Diao Hualing fell back beside Su Ling and spoke words cloaked by faint birdsong and blowing wind. Their expressions and body language seemed neutral until Su Ling stepped away, looking a little discomfited.

  This happened again when Ling Qi and Su Ling were speaking with an officer of a viscount’s household guard on their experiences with the inhabitants of the underground. Birdsong, wind, and concealing qi ended with a thoughtful Li Suyin rejoining them when the conversation was over.

  It didn’t seem untoward. Even a closer check by Sixiang revealed only a very potent screening technique. Still, it put Ling Qi on edge.

  Eventually, there came a moment when Li Suyin and Su Ling both stopped to observe a performance being put on in a noble’s pavilion. Li Suyin was rather more enthusiastic about it, something about it being a rendition of a classic play, but Su Ling, as was her way, seemed happy enough to humor her.

  Ling Qi didn’t turn her head, instead peering out of the corner of her eye as Diao Hualing came to stand beside her.

  “My turn then?” Ling Qi asked politely.

  “As you like,” Diao Hualing replied with a faint incline of her head. “However good friends you might be, it is more polite for some discussions to be private.”


  “And if we choose to discuss things among ourselves anyway?” Ling Qi asked with a hint of challenge.

  “Then that is your private choice.”


  Ling Qi silently requested Sixiang put their full effort into deciphering the other woman’s intentions. “As you say. I am aware that I have not made the best impression upon the Diao clan.”


  Diao Hualing acknowledged this with a nod. “It is not so terrible. Your actions in court mean we must oppose your rhetoric, but we understand the need for Her Grace to demand near impossible tasks of the heiress. That is the nature of the throne.”


  “If that is how it must be. I do mean it sincerely when I say that I mean no offense to the Diao clan.”


  “Perhaps, but your words and actions, so easily extending kinship to barbarians, cannot be accepted by us. The path to being a son or daughter of the Empire cannot be so easy. It is more than some tenuous tie of blood ten thousand years gone.”


  “I understand your position, but that path needs to begin somewhere,” Ling Qi replied evenly. She watched her friends, Suyin enjoying the show on the stage and Su Ling warily eyeing everyone who got too close. “I hope this does not lead to serious conflict.”


  “We will see. For now, no one sensible wishes to directly oppose your project. It is my hope that these differences between the heiress and the Diao can be smoothed over. To this end, I have an offer.”


  “I am always willing to listen to reasonable words.”


  Diao Hualing smiled faintly, taking her words with good humor. Sixiang thought her reaction was genuine. “I am an investigator for the Ministry of Law in the Central Valley. Your case has come to my attention.”


  “Has it?” Ling Qi asked warily. ”I am surprised that such a minor issue would reach you.”


  “Baroness Ling is inexperienced in some ways. Tampering with the Ministry of Communications is actually a serious matter. To do so for something so petty indicates a culprit who is, let us say, arrogant or inexperienced themselves.”


  “I will trust your experience,” Ling Qi said slowly. “What is your proposal?”


  “Work with me on this case. I am aware that you have some interest in delving into the matter specifically. I can provide you with my experience in navigating the Ministry of Law and a small introduction to my elders tonight at the Duchess’ gathering.”


  Ling Qi eyed the other woman, considering her words. Sixiang didn’t detect any direct deception, but there was certainly more to the offer.

  “Your earlier words implied a reciprocal arrangement, but so far it seems as if you are offering a gift,” Ling Qi said, choosing her words carefully to remain polite.

  Diao Hualing’s expression did not change, but she did fold her arms behind her back. “You are in a somewhat unique position. It would please me if we were able to become regular correspondents, even after this matter is dealt with. I would not expect you to hide this from your liege, but otherwise, discretion would be appreciated. It would be some comfort to the Diao, or at least, my family, if we are allowed a small window into your lady’s thoughts.”


  Ah, Ling Qi thought. So this was how one acquired people like those in Hou Zhuang’s meticulous lists. “I see. That does seem reciprocal. I hope you do not need an answer immediately.”


  “No. An answer by tonight, when you have had a chance to review the offer, would be sufficient.” Diao Hualing turned her attention back to Su Ling and Li Suyin. “The show is ending.”


  “So it is.”


  Ling Qi thought over the conversation as they rejoined Li Suyin and Su Ling.

  “It has been an enjoyable time, Baronesses,” Diao Hualing said as they left the noble’s pavilion. “I hope that you will excuse me now.”


  They all shared their pleasantries, and Diao Hualing made her exit, leaving them standing off to the side of the main path between pavilions and manses to avoid disrupting the traffic.

  Su Ling was the one who spoke up first. “So… That’s the kinda thing you gotta deal with every day, Ling Qi?”


  “Some more polite. Some less.”


  “I think Lady Diao is well intentioned,” Li Suyin said. “I believe I will take her up on the offered commission.”


  “She knew where I was from,” Su Ling revealed.

  Ling Qi’s eyebrows rose. “Why did that come up?”


  “She offered to introduce me to some people who might know some information I’d be interested in,” Su Ling bit out grudgingly.

  Ling QI nodded slowly, not expecting Su Ling to say anything more in this semi-public space. “And what did she want from you?”


  “Would you believe she wanted me to meet her younger brother?” Su Ling asked with a barked laugh. “Fuck, I don’t even know what I don’t know. Something is up here.”


  Ling Qi grimaced. That was weird. No offense to Su Ling, but she wasn’t that tier of talent. “I don’t know if I could get more information. She seems like the sort to compartmentalize her dealings.”


  “No,” Su Ling waved her off. “You’ve got enough on your plate, but—”


  “But?” Li Suyin asked worriedly.

  “But I’d appreciate it if I could tag along to your next music group meetup. Wanna talk to that Bian girl and her buddy again,” Su Ling said. “I wasn’t listening much last time we talked.”


  “Sure,” Ling Qi said reassuringly, giving the other girl a pat on the shoulder.

  Sixiang offered tentatively.

  Ling Qidoubted Su Ling would accept a “Ling Qi adventure” under normal circumstances, but these weren’t normal circumstances.

  “Su Ling, I might be able to help more if you’re willing.”


  Su Ling gave her a wary look. “What are you talking about, Ling Qi?”


  “I’m a bit better at it than I was underground,” Ling Qi said casually. Her dream walking ability wasn’t a secret, but she also wasn’t widely advertising it yet.

  Su Ling furrowed her brow, trying to discern what she was talking about, and Ling Qi saw the moment when understanding dawned. Li Suyin just looked at them with polite confusion.

  “Not sure how that’s gonna help.”


  “You can find information there that you can’t find anywhere else. Just think about it, okay? I’ll introduce you to Bian Ya regardless.”


  “Um, I’m not completely sure what you’re talking about.” Li Suyin curled a strand of her hair around the pointed claw on her fingertip. “But even if things get a little chaotic around Ling Qi, it always turns out well, doesn’t it?”


  Ling Qi felt her cheeks heat. Li Suyin really was way too confident in her.

  Su Ling merely pursed her lips, one of her furred ears flicking in agitation. “Thanks. For the offer. I’ll think about it. Guess it might let me test some of my new kit, if nothing else.”


  Ling Qi smiled. “No pressure. So we’ve got a couple hours left before I need to go. Want to go see a full show? There’s a small concert being put on in the Wang clan’s pavilion this afternoon.”


  “Oh, that sounds lovely!” Li Suyin said brightly.

  Su Ling groaned, but there was no real exasperation in it. “Yeah, sure. Guess I could go for some music.”


  Ling Qi blew out a breath. This might be good for her as well. A more personal site would probably be less fraught to navigate in the realm of dream. If she could help a neglected friend too, so much the better.

  Threads 226: Family 6

  The light was dim in the preparation room, and Ling Qi let the echoes of her words fall silent as Cai Renxiang gazed into the mirror set on the dresser table.

  Renxiang was already immaculate, not a strand of hair or a fold of her gown out of place. Neither of them had really needed to touch up their appearances, but it was convenient to have somewhere private to speak before they entered the pavilion proper.

  They had gone over their plans for the gathering, and Ling Qi had just wrapped up her report on Diao Hualing.

  “So, some part of the Diao wish to speak with me at least,” Cai Renxiang said finally. “This is good. Not optimal, but better than I feared. I will counsel you to take the offer. We will review the correspondence together before it is sent.”


  “I look forward to it, Lady Cai,” Ling Qi said, dipping her head in acknowledgement. “I am aware that this is not the way you prefer to handle business.”


  Cai Renxiang’s shoulders tensed. “Despite my earlier outburst, I am not naive, Ling Qi. I would like most parts of government to be open and transparent. But what I would like is immaterial to the current reality.”


  “I did not mean that,” Ling Qi said with a touch of reproach.

  Cai Renxiang squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. ”I know. That was uncalled for. My apologies.”


  A moment of tense silence passed between them.

  “Cai Renxiang, what you said earlier about family—”


  “I spoke without nuance. Nonetheless, I do not think my conclusion is wrong for me. Know that I meant no attack on yourself.”


  Cai Renxiang was familiar enough with her to know at least the outlines of her forming way, and it seemed in the intervening hours, she had seen the clash there.

  “I do not think you did,” Ling Qi said consideringly. “Lady Cai, I may not have been educated in philosophy, but I think I can hold my own in debate, if you would care for it.”


  Not so different from a spar really.

  “Perhaps,” her liege said. “The journey to Xiangmen for the auction will be long even with the arranged shortcuts.”


  Ling Qi nodded, accepting that. There would be a number of shorter transport jumps but it would still be several days' travel.

  “Renxiang, I—”


  “Mother has stated that I am to attend to her in her private quarters tonight,” Cai Renxiang interrupted again. Dread cracked through her usually stoic voice.

  “Oh.” Ling Qi remembered the haggard look Renxiang had worn after spending an evening with her mother last year. She searched for words, but found few of any use. “I’m sorry, Renxiang. You are strong though.”


  Just a little, she understood Renxiang’s reticence toward her sister beneath the words about family and duty and everything else. Ling Qi supposed that even Cai Renxiang had a limit to the number of impossible responsibilities she could shoulder without buckling.

  “Am I?” Cai Renxiang asked, glancing once more to the mirror before continuing without waiting for an answer. “Come. We have a number of individuals to meet tonight.”


  “Yes, Lady Cai.” Ling Qi folded her arms in front of her as she followed her liege out, a precise number of steps behind and to the side.

  In her mind, she felt a twinge of sadness from Sixiang. She agreed, but there was nothing they could do. For now.

  The light from the pavilion proper was dazzling from the faint rainbows cast by the mist of the fountains to the light gleaming from the many reflective surfaces and polished tiles under their feet. The pavillion was filled with the high society of the Emerald Seas, talking, dancing, drinking, and laughing. It was hardly the bacchanal revels of the Dreaming Moon, but neither was it the staid lifeless gatherings that Ling Qi had cut her social teeth on.

  Sixiang chuckled quietly.

  True enough. Today was revelry, and tomorrow, the tournament, but after that, many of these people would be going home to muster their soldiers against the cloud tribes and what she now knew to call the Seven Cities.

  Still the mood was good, high with confidence and braggadocio. Those they stopped to speak with treated her with grace and good humor for the most part, and she did her part by simply supporting Cai Renxiang, coming in to explain some detail of direct experience when asked. There was much less needling about her marital intentions this year. She had proven herself enough to scare off the small fry and opportunists.

  Soon, they met with their first major contact for the night. She had learned of this meeting earlier via Cai Renxiang, and she was quite wary of it.

  Standing near the misting fountain in the center of the pavilion in a small bubble of serene quiet was an older gentleman watching the play of the spray. He wore a finely pressed robe of dark blues and purples embroidered with curling flames at the hems and a black minister’s cap on his head. His features were stern and lined, and his well groomed beard and mustache was speckled with silver. She could only see one his hands, gloved, where it curled around the jade head of the dark cane he subtly leaned on.

  He was a fifth realm cultivator. This was Cao Chun, the Imperial Inspector who would be assigned to their expedition. Word had come only shortly before the tournament. The throne had indicated that they would require an observer in this matter.

  “Ladies,” Cao Chun said as they approached, accompanied by the faint click of his cane as he turned on his heel to face them. Ling Qi could not read anything but stern examination from his face.

  “Senior Secretary Cao,” Cai Renxiang greeted, performing the proper bow. Ling Qi followed her lead, bowing more deeply. Ling Qi had already been informed of his rank and titles.

  In full, he was Senior Secretary of the South in the Ministry of Integrity. No longer an active agent, he was now a manager and administrator of them.

  “It is good to see that you are prompt,” he said crisply. “Your mother, Her Grace, is skilled in raising the spirits of her subordinates.”


  “My honored mother understands well the importance of morale to war efforts,” Cai Renxiang said.

  “She is,” Cao Chun agreed. “This is why your situation puzzles me. Such an unorthodox choice must bring some confusion to the spirit of the people.”


  Ling Qi squared her shoulders, meeting the assessing gaze of the older man’s gray eyes. The wrinkles around the corners of his mouth deepened. It didn’t seem like dissatisfaction, merely deep thought.

  Well over four hundred years old, Cao Chun was a veteran of the final bandit wars of the Celestial Peaks. The conflicts kicked off by the previous emperor’s reforms and drive to clear the Celestial Peaks of malcontents had been the fire in which the Ministry of Integrity was christened. Bandit kingdoms, heretical cults, and other such things had long been able to take root in the many ruins and fortified nooks, but Emperor An’s efforts had finally removed this stain from the Peaks. Empress Xiang’s delving, refurbishment, and settlement programs were the continuation of this.

  Cao Chun’s reputation was as a hero who had struck down many villains and saved many people. He was said to be a man of unimpeachable virtue and great devotion toward the great spirits. However, his reputation was also as a merciless foe of those who would cross imperial law.

  She felt Sixiang shying back in her mind, and she was struck by an acute certainty that the interests this man represented were probably not on her side.

  “Our parlay was unorthodox,” Cai Renxiang agreed. “However, it is also foolish to ignore opportunities that present themselves.”


  Cao Chun rested his other hand atop his cane as well. “Perhaps. Regardless, it is my duty to see that imperial values and interests remain observed during these negotiations. I have heard many reports on this matter, but I would now hear from you, the minds driving it. Lay out to me your plans, your reasons, and your observations of the targets that I may judge this course properly.”


  Ling Qi and Cai Renxiang shared a look.

  "The first step, which is being undertaken now under the auspices of the Argent Peak Sect and my mother's White Plumes, is the construction of a neutral fortification and meeting point," Cai Renxiang began, clasping her hands behind her back. "This will serve as a show of imperial strength and engineering, as well as preventing undue interference from third parties. One of the first items on the agenda will be the establishment of diplomatic credentials with the foreign White Sky and methods of quickly and accurately identifying their agents."

  "Historically, one of the many difficulties in dealing with the cloud tribes has been identification," Ling Qi added. "Even where deals have been struck, their nomadic nature means that the more agreeable of them might disappear without a moment's notice."

  "It is good to hedge against their inevitable unreliability," Cao Chun conceded.

  Cai Renxiang tipped her head, acknowledging the words but not replying. "Most importantly, I and my retainers will be establishing our tentative fiefs nearby to both show our confidence and share the risk this project represents."

  "This is important. The people of the Southern Emerald Seas are battered and rightfully wary. I want them to know that we are not merely playing with their livelihoods," Ling Qi said.

  "It is vital that we not lose sight of our primary duty, which is toward our people. The folk of the foothills and southern woods deserve a true chance for peace and the time to grow in prosperity and enjoy good health and comfort under the aegis of the Empire, as all of its people deserve," Cai Renxiang finished.

  Cao Chun studied them both, but his focus was mostly on Cai Renxiang. Twice, his finger tapped on the jade head of his cane. "It is good that you keep in mind what is important as you move forward with this project. Too often, I find those with grand visions forget what those visions cost."

  "To that end, one of the most important parts of early negotiations will be the establishment of clear borders and if possible, checkpoints," Ling Qi said. "If travel between our peoples only occurs at controlled points, then it becomes much easier to ensure that bad actors cannot cause us conflict."

  This would, of course, grant advantages to the ones who controlled these checkpoints on both sides. Ling Qi was fine with that.

  "Current mobilization will already do much to clear a buffer zone in the normal mountains," Cao Chun allowed. He had not relaxed, but he was at least listening to them with something more like condescension than outright hostility. "If I may, perhaps you should think about expanding this concept. The Xuan, with their special dispensation, have their foreign quarters. If these barbarians could be contained to a limited number of controlled regions, I believe that would assuage many concerns of contamination."

  "I thank you for your advice, Secretary Cao," Cai Renxiang said. "I had considered such a concept, but I did not want to presume."

  "That is a good trait to have. Cultivate it, young heiress. Now, continue."

  They spent the next quarter hour or so detailing the plans for early negotiations. These included seeing the current tentative ceasefire solidified into a mutual agreement of nonaggression and the steps being taken to secure the neutral site. At Cao Chun’s prodding, they made some observations about the White Sky's military readiness and likely tactics, but eventually, they came to the end of their presentation.

  Cao Chun was silent for a time as they finished, idly tapping his cane on the marble tiles. His face remained stern as they looked again toward the misty spray of the fountains. Finally, after an interminable pause, he spoke.

  "I am convinced that you are approaching this matter thoroughly and thoughtfully at the least. Your intentions are good."

  Neither of the two of them replied, sensing that the secretary was not done speaking.

  "However, this is still a most unusual action. I will have advice as we proceed. If things go well, the people of the south will have their time to recover. If not, this will still buy some time while other matters are cleaned up. I will observe these barbarians and ensure that none of their savagery takes root."

  "Thank you, Secretary Cao," Cai Renxiang said formally. "As an observer, do you have any requirements which need be met?"

  "Lodging for my retinue at the site," Cao Chun said crisply, turning back to them. "Two junior agents have been assigned to my command for on site operations. In addition, I am picking up an apprentice following this event. He will require lodging as well."

  "Might I ask who?" Cai Renxiang asked.

  "Jin Tae. You may know of him," the secretary said. "He will also serve as the eyes of the north in this, seeing that other provinces have begun to show their interest."

  "Of course," her liege said with a slight furrow of her borrow. "Anything else?"

  "Nothing which I will place upon your shoulders. We will speak about my participation in negotiations later when I have made my inspections of the site. Do not let this old gentleman keep you further."

  They said their pleasantries, bowed, and took their leave.

  "I think that went as well as could be expected," Ling Qi said cautiously as they rejoined the main body of the night's guests.

  "I suppose it did. We may have earned enough leeway to begin before active interference starts. Still, we must be prepared to incorporate any demands the throne may make into our negotiating positions."

  Undoubtedly, this would make the negotiations more complex and difficult, Ling Qi thought with a sigh.

  Sixiang volunteered.

  Ling Qi nodded, quietly relaying that to her liege.

  "It is good to know that my own sources are not wholly without merit," said the heiress. "It is… something, yes. Your plans for the rest of the evening, Ling Qi?"

  "I have a meeting with a few members of the Diao clan," Ling Qi repeated. It was worrying that Renxiang needed to ask again.

  "Good. Attend to that," Cai Renxiang said. "I must go to my mother."

  "Yes. I'll see you in the morning, Lady Cai," Ling Qi said, inclining her head. Anything else she could have said would be rude or a lie.

  She turned toward the western part of the pavilion, having spied several people in Diao colors off in that direction. She felt Sixiang shift in her mind, giving her a feeling like an arm wrapped around her shoulder.

  the muse murmured.

  She was feeling more than that, Ling Qi thought. The tournament was nearly over, and the task they had taken up loomed ahead. Negotiations with the Bai, meeting with Cao Chun, everything about Cai Renxiang all combined into a tremendous weight on her shoulders.

  What in the world did she think she was doing?

  Sixiang murmured.

  "I don't even know what that is," Ling Qi said under her breath, weaving through the crowd.

  Ling Qi considered the pinnacle of power, the powers she had witnessed, and the cultivators she had spoken to. She thought back to that horribly embarrassing evening with Bao Qian when he had asked her what she wanted to do with her power. She hadn't been able to answer him then. She probably still couldn't now. But she did think that she might be ready to seek out an answer.

  She just hoped Cai Renxiang could hold out until she had someone who knew what they were doing to support her.

  ***

  *****

  *******

  *********

  You are Cai Renxiang, and Truth scourges your mind.

  Threads 227-Pronouncement 1

  Ling Qi peered at Cai Renxiang out of the corner of her eye, remaining silent as they ascended the long stairs that led to the box at the top of the stadium. She was haggard. Cai Renxiang hid it well, but Ling Qi recognized the small differences in her posture and the touch of cosmetics around her eyes. The meeting with her mother had definitely been harsh.

  “Is there anything I can assist you with today, Lady Cai?” Ling Qi followed precisely two steps behind Cai Renxiang as they ascended.

  “Not today, I think.” Cai Renxiang sounded tired, but the steel determination of someone who knew what they had to do which had been missing was back.

  Something had changed.

  “I will call on you when I need you, Ling Qi,” Cai Renxiang said, her voice quiet in the privacy of the stairwell. “I think we will have much to talk about on our journey north.”


  Ling Qi gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Words that they shouldn’t speak, even here at the Sect? That was… worrying. “I am with you,” Ling Qi said. “And soon, Gan Guangli will be too.”


  “Yes,” Cai Renxiang agreed. “Understand, Ling Qi, that I require some time in cultivation before I may speak clearly.”


  “Of course, Lady Cai.”


  Not entirely a matter of danger then, but also one of processing. Well, she could wait. There was certainly enough on her plate for the moment.

  She would just be glad that Cai Renxiang had found that part of herself again because today, they were sharing a box with the Duchess, not the Bai.

  She could already feel the pressure growing on her shoulders.

  All too soon, they emerged into the brilliantly lit interior of the spectators’ balcony that sat above all the rest. The presence of the Duchess nearly overwhelmed all others. She was seated with one leg crossed over the other, as languid in the stadium seat as she had ever been on her throne. She wore an ornate and formal gown of white and gold worked through with imagery of blooming flowers. Only the near hip-length slit in all three layers of the gown showed the Duchess’ unusual fashion sense.

  Seated beside her was Diao Linqin, who was arms crossed and expressionless. Her gown was pale rose pink with deeper reds in the underlayer and hems, and her honey brown hair was drawn up and woven between ornate jade ornaments. Her eyes flicked to the two of them, and Ling Qi felt the older woman’s dislike wash over them. It was not powerful, merely a frisson in the air like bramble thorns scraping against one's skin.

  The last one, sitting two rows in front of these women, was Diao Luwen. Eyes blank and staring ahead with numbers and characters dancing in them like motes of starlight, the man looked intensely disinterested. He wore a plain green robe.

  It struck Ling Qi then, looking upon these people, how truly empty the word “family” must be in Cai Renxiang’s eyes.

  “Renxiang, my daughter, it is unlike you to press the edge of lateness.” An indulgent smile played about Cai Shenhua’s lips.

  “I must apologize, Honored Mother. I spent much time contemplating the insights you deigned to share with this unworthy daughter.” Cai Renxiang offered a stiff but precise bow.

  The Duchess seemed terribly amused. Diao Linqin’s expression was studiously blank.

  “So diligent.” Cai Shenhua chuckled. “Take your seat, dear. Your soldier’s match is about to begin.”


  Cai Renxiang straightened up and nodded, taking a seat beside her father. He didn’t even glance at her.

  Ling Qi sat beside her, trying not to sweat under the terrible radiance that burned on the back of her neck like a high summer sun. She caught Cai Renxiang drumming her fingers on the armrest of her seat, a sure sign of agitation in the stoic girl.

  Ling Qi sank into her seat. This was awful. Doing her best to take her mind from the discomfort, she instead focused down on the arena where Gan Guangli and Lu Feng were now facing off.

  The arena shimmered with familiar light, and the two combatants disappeared, consumed by an expanding cloud of dark green. In moments, it resolved itself into a deep and dense woodland scene. Old growth trees towered some thirty or forty meters overhead with trunks as wide as small houses. Between them were smaller trees, also towering high. Weeds, brambles, and brush choked the leaf strewn ground, and a thick canopy of leaves overhead allowed only tiny shafts of sunlight through to dapple the browns, greens, and pale yellows of the undergrowth. Between a native of the Emerald Seas and one of the jungles of the West, Ling Qi supposed that this was the closest to neutral ground the Sect could offer.

  She spied Lu Feng for but a moment, a flash of silky black hair and red silk vanishing into the shadowed canopy. Meanwhile, Gan Guangli had appeared in a small clearing atop a wide flat stone that blocked the growth of the trees. He stood briefly in the sun, his expression grim as he clapped his hands once in a gesture like a prayer and began to walk into the darkening wood.

  With each footfall, Ling Qi felt an echo of qi resonating out through stone, earth, and root, and slowly, a faint golden glow began to crawl along the joints of his armor, casting the dark forest floor in vibrant light.

  “How much has this one changed, I wonder? “ The Duchess’ voice cut through Ling Qi’s attention, pressing down on her skull despite the fact that the words were not directed at her.

  She pulled her attention back, just a little, to listen to her liege’s reply.

  “Gan Guangli did not require much change. He only needed to step from my shadow. That is not his role.”


  “Hoh! You say that like it is a small thing, daughter.”


  Below, a tree twisted, bark warping into a screaming demonic maw. Root and branch lashed out. Gan Guangli let out a bellow and his metal clad palm shattered a trunk to sawdust. Ling Qi saw a creeper vine curl around his ankle. He twisted his leg and ripped it free. A falling trunk writhed with renewed life, toxic qi coursing through a hundred rings as it detonated into a vile purple cloud. Just barely, Ling Qi could see where threads, uncountable in number, gleamed among the wood.

  Gan Guangli’s chest inflated in the moment before the toxin was upon him and his hands came together in time with a great shout. A shockwave erupted, blowing away poison, vines, and trees alike. Ling Qi heard the faint snapping of threads.

  “Lu Feng!” Gan Guangli demanded, his voice made metallic by the golden faceplate of the helm he now wore. “Know that I cannot be worn down by such petty tricks!”


  Ling Qi smiled faintly at the theatrical shout, sensing the tingling qi in the air that bounced from trunk to trunk, just the same as the vibrations of his massive footfalls. It looked like Gan Guangli had found a way to weaponize his own loud nature. She was glad for him.

  There was a faint whine in the air, and Gan Guangli spun round, raising his palm to catch a blur in the palm of his hand. Then another came, and another and another. Thunder cracked in each projectile’s wake, a fusillade of hundreds of what she saw to be pale green thorns. Their direction forced Gan Guangli to shift and turn as he took a close stance, his hands lashing out in metallic blurs as he bashed them all aside.

  Gan Guangli’s head brushed the lowest branches, and then pushed through. His light grew with him as he came to tower higher and higher. Three meters, then four, then five, until the thorns bounced from his armor like falling leaves, and he slammed his palms downward, joined by two additional golden hands that shattered smaller trees like matchsticks and send out a rumbling shockwave that ripped up the earth for over a hundred meters in the direction of the thorns.

  No more flew, but as Gan Guangli shook his head like an oxen bothered by flies, Ling Qi could still feel countless threads stretched taut in the dark.

  This was not going to be a short fight.

  Another thunderous crash filled the arena as Gan Guangli’s palm strike demolished a small copse of trees in a rapidly expanding cloud of splintered wood and flying leaves. He pulled his hand back, and it emerged from the cloud wrapped in clinging vines and creeping moss that wriggled between the joints of his armor.

  He took a step forward, and there was a wet sucking sound as the ground under his huge boot became a sucking sinkhole filled with crawling roots. Gan Guangli let out a bellow as he tore his now mud-encrusted boot free.

  “You never do tire of looking like a clumsy fool, do you?” Lu Feng’s voice whispered through the wood, generated from the rustling of leaves and the creak of branches.

  “You never do tire of looking like an underhanded coward, do you?” Gan Guangli retorted, still in good cheer as he straightened. He was head and shoulders above the normal-sized trees now.

  They were both playing a different game, so far as Ling Qi could tell. Lu Feng seemed content to let Gan Guangli barge through innumerable traps and altered terrain. Gan Guangli. however, was subtly searching as he strode along, narrowing the search area by devastating the terrain Lu Feng could use to hide in.

  This had been going on for several minutes now, and only recently had Lu Feng begun to respond to Gan Guangli’s calls and taunts. She wanted to think that Gan Guangli had the advantage here since he seemed to be using less qi than Lu Feng, but a suspicion niggled at her, and beside her, Cai Renxiang’s brow was faintly creased with concern.

  “Tomb-masking vines.” Ling Qi blinked as the sound of a gruff voice drew her back to the box. Diao Luwen’s eyes had cleared, and he was peering down below at the duel.

  “What do you refer to, Father?” Cai Renxiang asked.

  “What that boy’s cultivation is based on.” Diao Luwen spoke in a swift and clipped tone. “Nasty pests you need to account for in building in the west. They grow up around trees and structures. People, too, if allowed. They kill and devour them, leaving a hollow shell that looks like the victim behind. Damned mimics. What an irritating child. I had hoped this business would be short.”


  “I see,” Cai Renxiang said.

  “Your man is being infected further by each trap he springs. His plan is not bad, but he seems oblivious.” The older man grunted. “Hmph. Attrition fighters.”


  She saw the moment when Diao Luwen’s attention drifted again. Neither the Duchess nor the Prime Minister spoke. Ling Qi refocused her attention on the battle below with renewed concern.

  Gan Guangli stood, hand outstretched, having just tossed a boulder ahead. The earth split where it had landed, revealing a meters-deep trench full of toxic sludge. He stepped over it and had to windmill his arms for a moment as his ankle was caught on an invisible thread that Ling Qi had trouble spotting even as it curled around his ankle and yanked.

  “You spend so much time playacting a valiant hero, but it just makes you oblivious and clownish, you great fool,” Lu Feng taunted. Ling Qi felt a ripple of qi, and the sludge in the bottom of the ravine bubbled and swelled, exploding into a massive cloud of pinkish red mist that stung her eyes to even look at. “Underhanded, cowardly… That you think these are insults at all only shows how ignorant you are.”


  There was a mighty boom, and the toxic mist scattered, multiple golden hands tearing up forest and trees in a chain of booms and snapping threads. Ling Qi glimpsed red silk and long black hair for just a moment, darting from the wake of the devastation.

  “You are confident, Lu Feng! I wonder, do you even believe your own words? I feel no shame for any of my choices this past year. Not for braving the great storm to aid new disciples. Not for going out to fight for my people while you plundered storehouses like a bandit.” Gan Guangli rose from the cloud, towering some seven meters in the air. His armor gleamed still, despite swatches of toxin dripping from it. “Let all the villains in the world dog my heels and sharpen their knives for my back. This Gan Guangli will endure them all! And my people will know they are protected.”


  The forest erupted. Entire trees writhed and twisted, disintegrating into grasping vines, and flying thorns erupted in their thousands, plumes of toxin blooming around Gan Guangli’s feet. His hands blurred, new ones appearing behind his back to blow them all away.

  “I am a winner! And that is the only thing that matters for a leader,” Lu Feng replied flippantly. “Victory quells all complaints and needs no explanation.”


  Something black and twisted throbbed within Gan Guangli’s meridians, and Ling Qi watched as gray and black vines erupted from inside his armor. She felt his qi flooding out, being drained to fuel the growth of these parasites. They coiled around him, his legs slammed together, his arms snapped to his side, and he fell to his knees with a shout. Even the golden glow beneath his cape and the ornamental blade that hung there projecting phantom limbs disappeared in a cluster of vines.

  Gan Guangli struggled mightily as he glared into the ruined forest, even as vines crawled across his face, puncturing and wriggling under his skin. “I have always despised words such as those. Cowardly and childish things that they are.”


  The growth across his body, fueled by his own qi, tightened, stilling his movements and burying his face in the dirt.

  Ling Qi glimpsed Lu Feng, standing on the bough of one of the tallest trees, one hand on the trunk. “For you to call anyone else childish is truly absurd.”


  “That. Is. What. Villains. Always. Say!” Gan Guangli’s strained voice rang out from within the cocoon of vines. Blooms of golden light appeared beneath them, hands trying to escape and failing. His qi was dimming to her senses, and she saw Renxiang’s grip on the armrests tightening, straining the wood.

  Behind them, the Duchess let out a throaty chuckle.

  Slowly, the tremendous cocoon began to still and shrink. The flashes of gold came less frequently, and Lu Feng leapt down from his perch, looking very pleased with himself. “Ridiculous right to the end, Guangli. I suppose you have my respect for that. Imagine how strong you could have been if you had not wasted such time with your weaklings.”


  “Ridiculous,” Gan repeated weakly. “Charity, compassion, virtue, these things are ridiculous indeed.”


  There was a pulse of energy. Lu Feng stopped in his tracks, his smirk freezing on his face. A tongue of golden fire licked out between the vines. Lu Feng’s legs tensed, and he made to dart back, but he went nowhere as two golden arms locked around his shoulders.

  There was a a huge and muscular man there behind him, partially phantasmal, body dissolving into tongues of flame and light below the chest. Wearing only a vest of pale blue fire, the figure’s chiseled features displayed a pleased smile as he rose from the ground with Lu Feng in tow, long golden hair billowing in the wind.

  The cocoon bent. Gan Guangli forced himself onto his knees, snapping vines like thin twine as more and more tongues of flame began to burn, golden light shining through the tangle. His qi flared, and vines writhed and charred.

  Lu Feng thrashed in the grip of the shining giant that held him in a lock. His skin sizzled with flesh-eating acid, and his flicking fingers guided threads that wrapped around half-physical limbs to cut and poison and puncture. The spirit, grim and inviolate, merely titled his head back and then snapped it forward with such force that the shockwave blew the leaves and branches from every standing tree in a hundred meters. The crack of the spirit’s forehead meeting the back of Lu Feng’s skull was sickening even up in the stands.

  As Lu Feng hung, stunned for a moment, Gan Guangli, still wrapped from head to toe in parasitic vines, rose to his feet, and with a roar, took a step forward, snapping the bindings around his legs. “Let me be a fool then, Lu Feng! I am a shield, not for my lady, who needs no such thing, but for all below. A leader must be an example and inspiration who shows that virtue… is… its… own… REWARD!”


  Bright sunfire blazed from between every joint and gap in Gan Guanli’s gleaming white armor, and the rest of the vines tore apart. A dozen fists and palms of tremendous size, blazing with sunlight, snapped out to shatter the air and strike the dazed Lu Feng.

  The arena went white with the light.

  Again, the Duchess laughed. “Fine! You may keep that one, Renxiang.”


  Threads 228-Pronouncement 2

  “I am surprised that you would make such allowances before the tournament’s end,” Cai Renxiang said calmly, despite the wary relief Ling Qi could see beginning to set in.

  The Duchess offered a languid shrug, leaning back in her seat, sending the shadows dancing throughout the box. “I am satisfied with his resolve, and a place in the finals will grant him the correct rank. It may, in fact, be better that the Han boy wins that battle. They did suffer some loss of face in the previous year.” She sounded like a woman musing on the next day’s weather. “But, Renxiang, recall always that soldiers are dangerous creatures. Do keep him in hand, yes?”


  “Of course, Mother.”


  Below, the field was cleared, and Gan Guangli stepped down, at last allowing his shoulders to sag a little with fatigue. That had been a risky maneuver he had played there. Ling Qi wasn’t quite sure how the boisterous young man had hidden such a reserve of qi while playing at fatigue. He hardly studied stealth arts.

  Sixiang analyzed.

  They could always ask later. She decided not to call Sixiang on the mild hypocrisy of calling anyone else flashy. In the arena below, the Sect was announcing the next two combatants.

  As Han Jian and Xiao Fen stepped into the ring, Ling Qi felt a twinge of discomfort. It made the hairs on the back of her neck rise, a creeping anxiety that almost had her shifting physically in her seat. It took several long moments before Ling Qi realized what it was. She kept her eyes facing forward on the arena below. She had no desire to turn her head. Diao Linqin’s attention was on her back.

  As the battlefield took shape below, rolling hills and scrub-filled fields, Ling Qi felt the whisper of a flower petal blowing across her cheek. The world felt dull and washed out. Even Sixiang’s voice was a muffled whisper. Only the terrible light of the Duchess shone through, and that, too, seemed muted, but it was a faintly indulgent thing like a person turning their head aside so as not to listen in.

  Ling Qi took a very deep breath, looking down at her own lap. Vibrant flower petals blew and curled around her. “What have I done to earn the honor of such attention, Prime Minister?”


  “Aided in holding together a broken doll until it could begin to become a woman again, it seems.” Diao Linqin’s aristocratic voice was measured and neutral. “Has she spoken to you about last evening yet?”


  “Lady Cai Renxiang has not yet had the opportunity.” Despite herself, some irritation at her friend being spoken of in that way bled through. She really wasn’t good enough at this yet.

  Slowly, she turned her head to look over her shoulder to see Diao Linqin looking down at her with pursed lips and an expression of vexation. “It is truly irritating when you see some truth in a jest.”


  Ling Qi remained silent, recalling last year, when the Duchess had compared her to the Prime Minister and joked of her daughter's taste matching hers.

  “Only a shred of it,” Diao Linqin said imperiously. “That girl does not love in that way, and you, though you can, are broken by fear.”


  “I do not understand, Prime Minister. This seems inappropriate.”


  “Just a musing,” the older woman dismissed. “And recognition of what is forming in the chaos you call cultivation. You have been poking about the edges of the Diao clan. Why?”


  Ling Qi’s thoughts rushed by as she assembled an answer in her head, trying to keep calm in this surreal scenario. “I seem to have brought some offense to you and your family, although it was never my intent. I only want to ensure that it does not become true ire and learn more of the Diao, so that I can avoid missteps in the future.”


  “You will not abandon that girl, and I know well enough these ideas are yours, as much as hers.” In this strange illusion, Diao Linqin seemed to loom much higher, a queen in waiting herself, on a throne of flowers and thorns. “Your offense was very much intentional.”


  Ling Qi corrected herself. “To avoid more offenses beyond the points I will not move from then.”


  “Better.” Diao Linqin rested her chin on her hand. “You are not the first to try the game of twisting truth. Learn when it is better to make a straight thrust of the blade rather than aiming for a fanciful feint.”


  Ling Qi narrowed her eyes despite the sharp-edged petals in the air and the pressure of the light and wind. “I will take your advice to heart, Elder. If I may, why does our project give you such offense?”


  “I am the Matriarch of the Diao. What offends them must offend me in court, at least in these matters. Have you studied our history?”


  “The Diao rose as a viscount in the south central valley and were raised to counts under the Hui,” Ling Qi rattled off. “Though your star has only risen in their absence.”


  “To hear it so dryly… Such is history,” Diao Linqin said with a strange, half-irritated and half-resigned expression. “But you, child who has never known the old order, do not really understand those words.”


  Ling Qi bowed her head, recognizing that no response was expected.

  “We were raised, it was true, but the Hui had no friends. They had no love beyond themselves. They wielded apathy, affection, and cruelty alike the way you do your instruments. All who served them were made less than they were in that service. The Diao were at once pampered pets and beaten dogs, ever hungry for the master’s affirmation. The response of most to such abuse is to wrap themselves in the pride of what they are allowed.”


  Ling Qi was surprised to hear so much from the woman. She still felt no doubt in Diao Linqin’s dislike for her. “What was allowed was to feel wholly imperial?”


  “Good. I dislike students who need things spelled out for them. You understand then, why so many feel disdain for the ‘projects’ such as the Wang’s assimilation and your diplomacy. Even if less remember why with every passing year, elders pass their grudges and hate to their juniors through every lesson.”


  “You sound very detached from this.”


  “That is an observation you could make.”


  Ling Qi mulled that over in silence for a moment before finally coming to her reply. “Why are you telling me these things?”


  Diao Linqin looked down at her, flower petals blowing in an unfelt wind. “What do you imagine will happen if Her Grace’s daughters fail to live up to her expectations?”


  Ling Qi swallowed. “There will probably be some conflict over the throne.”


  “Understatement. An amusing and occasionally useful device. Know that the Diao clan is split. Some see themselves as the natural heirs of Cai. Others look upon our influence and our wealth and our positions in many ministries and wonder what precisely the benefit of losing our shielding light is and why we should fight another war. Diao Hualing is an opportunist. But opportunists have their place.”


  “That didn’t answer my question,” Ling Qi said warily.

  “Your lady will explain.” Diao Linqin peered down, her lips curled with disdain, but it did not seem wholly directed at Ling Qi. “Tell me, child, when you look upon me, what do you see? Do not bother to lie or speak in circles.”


  Ling Qi looked hard at the older woman, or rather, the face she presented. She saw the shifting thorns and flowers that spread around and saw the way they curled toward the radiant light cast toward them from above in longing adulation. She saw the skulls great and small in the dirt below, split and grown over by roots wound in thorny vines and crushed in numbers greater than she could count. She saw shading boughs cast upon tightly grown flowers and shoots, apathetic of their existence but casting life-giving shade from the searing light all the same.

  It was a strange realization that came to her, looking at the shifting, overlapping imagery of a seventh realm cultivator's presence. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the possibility. Meizhen had shown her that. Sixiang had shown her that the definitions of man and woman could blur. Lin Hai had shown her they could be changed outright.

  “You’re her wife,” Ling Qi said blankly, staring up into the colorless sun, caged by the embracing weave of vine and leaf and flowers rooted to the earth. If she were honest, she could never have imagined someone so powerful defining themselves that way. To Ling Qi, marriage was… It was a frightening thing. A loss. To be a wife was to be at another’s mercy for the rest of her life, or, she supposed, to dominate someone else in the same way. Someone had to be the one in control, didn’t they?

  And the Duchess was greater of the two, but it didn’t feel that way in that instant. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

  “That is your view? Unexpected.” Diao Linqin’s voice was the reverberation of the wind through the flowers now. “I see you are no less grasping for another year's cultivation.”


  Ling Qi almost ducked her head, a denial on her lips, but… The Prime Minister was right. She wasn’t any less greedy. The lesson she had taken from Zeqing was that she had to take into account more than her own desires. People weren’t dolls to be collected.

  “I will not be alone again.”


  Ling Qi’s shadow clung to her in the light, tight and guarded. Her own wind, so much smaller, kicked up, carrying the glittering strands of her hair. She looked up, not unafraid, but unflinching.

  “Different,” said the Prime Minister. “The poison you drank deep from was isolation. You cannot give yourself to another, and so, they cannot give themselves to you. Instead, ‘Sister.’ Can you even imagine something closer, I wonder? Even now, you hold tightly but always at a distance, a support given unasked. A painful sight. Think more of yourself. Empathy without limits is a terrible burden.”


  “I do not see how that can be a burden. I want to be better. I understand that people are connected. Even if I can care for only a few, those few connections branch out in turn. Empathy is how I can understand this, isn’t it?”


  “That conclusion is not wrong.” Roses swarmed close, curling around her, examining. “But it is incomplete. You risk giving too much of yourself as you are. Let me show you why you should control your empathy.”


  Ling Qi felt a prickling in her mind, then a rush of worry and calculation. Renxiang was beside her, thoughts racing, an aching pain in her thoughts warring with relief and trepidation. For all her poise, Ling Qi’s friend was a mess behind her mask of stoicism, and Ling Qi almost reflexively reached for her.

  She felt her other friends: Meizhen’s calculation, her concern, her pride; Li Suyin’s never ending anxiety, the feeling that she was an imposter, undeserving of everything, no matter her accomplishments; Su Ling’s dull anger at the world and far hotter loathing of her own self; Xuan Shi, surrounded by kin but no less lonely for it; And Gan Guangli’s exhaustion and exultation, his iron confidence and belief in Cai Renxiang. More and more, she felt. Flashes of bitter resolve in Han Jian. Desperate pride and yearning to impress in Xiao Fen. The sorrow of the Sect Head, the empty hollow of an old man who had lost everything close to him, living only in their memory. Sect elders defined forever by loss and vengeance.

  More, more, more. It jumbled together, individuals blurring into a maddening cacophony of feeling. It bore down on her, a suffocating weight and pressure even greater than the gaze of the Duchess. Anxiety filled Ling Qi, the helpless knowledge that nothing she could do would ever reduce this weight. Even if she ascended in this very instant, nothing could change this awful, dragging weight. It was made even worse, knowing that even this was only the people present at the Argent Peak Sect.

  The feelings disappeared. Ling Qi heard her own ragged breathing and felt the prickling of tears in the corners of her eyes.

  “That is the conclusion of the insight you have without temperance,” Diao Linqin said, her voice even. Despite that, Ling Qi felt she saw the briefest glimpse of a single tear rolling down a dark cheek. “Be more selfish, child. Take as much as you give. Choose what lines of connection you trace, or be crushed by the weight of the world.”


  Ling Qi got her breathing under control, and as she did, she had a flash of thought. Was this why the Prime Minister had never stepped into the eighth realm? What would an existence which could never be separated from that feeling be like?

  A second thought, as she wiped her eyes, looking up at the radiance burning above, grasped so tightly. “What will happen when you are gone?”


  The Prime Minister, she knew, was much older than the Duchess, by some two centuries if she recalled correctly. Somehow, the idea of that terrible colorless sun, unmoored from anything which grew from the earth, sent a chill down her spine.

  The Prime Minister didn’t answer her. “This conversation has been sufficient for my judgment.”


  “I still don’t understand why,” Ling Qi said through gritted teeth. Instinctively, she knew she didn’t need to specify. In front of this woman, even speaking was a formality.

  “You have made yourself important. This is the result,” Diao Linqin replied, disinterested. “Be honest in your dealings with the Diao.”


  And like that, the conversation was over. She was back in her seat, her eyes were dry, and not a single hair was out of place.Her shoulders sagged for a moment before she got a hold of herself.

  Sixiang murmured in her head.

  It looked like Sixiang was already catching up. Cai Renxiang glanced in her direction, and Ling Qi gave her a reassuring smile. As Renxiang had said earlier, now was not the time. Her liege looked at her for a long moment before giving a faint nod and turning back to the match below. Ling Qi stared at her own hands, wondering at how small and unready they seemed, then did the same.

  It was a whirlwind. Literally. The dunes had been stirred by lashing winds, and wailing walls of grinding sand slashed across the battlefield. Han Jian was a darting blur, and the winds and the flaying sandstorms followed in the wake of his steps and his blade. In a few places, hungry black fires burned on his robe, and his right arm was marked by a single splotch of frozen blood.

  But Xiao Fen was by far the worst of the two. The sleeves of her gown were completely gone, her pale skin was abraded by sand, and her veins pulsed black from overuse of her arts. Crimson flowed, soaking her black dress from several precise wounds on her stomach and back. A slash marked her right thigh, making her steps unsteady.

  Her usually blank face was locked into a fierce expression as she blasted through the most recently raised sandstorm, hands wreathed in black fire striking with blinding speed. Han Jian leaned back, tilting his shoulders and twisting his body to avoid each strike by the slimmest of margins.

  Then, he vanished in a puff of wind and sand, and in his place was a huge golden tiger. The little cub had grown, standing some two and a half meters at the shoulder. Heijin’s roar shattered the air, a shockwave that tore apart the dunes and sandstorms alike. It sent Xiao Fen tumbling through the air, bleeding from her ears and nose. She landed hard despite her best efforts, tumbling and skidding through the sand before she struggled back to her feet.

  “Please yield.” Han Jian stepped like a ghost from the whirling winds. Around him unfolded a phalanx of silken soldiers, spinning themselves into existence from the threads of his sleeves and sash.

  Xiao Fen let out a low angry hiss, resetting her stance. Her eyes darted about, taking in her position. Han Jian stood ahead, sword down at his side, while Heijin stalked the dunes, his silhouette melting away into a shadow among the yellow sands.

  They clashed again, and again, it was Xiao Fen who was left with a new wound, a precise thrust into her upper arm that left the girl's right arm dangling uselessly.

  “Do you think your master is happy, watching you break yourself over this?” Han Jian asked lowly. “I did not think Bai Meizhen was that kind of person.”


  Xiao Fen’s face twisted, her eyes flicking up into the sky where the stands were behind the false world they fought in. Han Jian took no advantage, just flicking the blood from the end of his blade.

  “I represent my mistress’ pride,” she hissed.

  “And she’d beat me like a kettle drum.” Han Jian raised an eyebrow. “Is it really

  pride we’re talking about here?”


  Xiao Fen looked like she had bitten into a lemon, and for a moment, Ling Qi thought she was going to lunge again into combat. Then, her shoulders slumped. “I yield.”


  The dunes vanished in a flash, leaving them standing once more in the arena beneath the roar of the crowd. Xiao Fen vanished in a flash of light, taken to the medical ward. Han Jian raised his sword in a salute, smiling wryly as he was announced the winner.

  “It was a good match,” said the Duchess, her warm voice reverberating in Ling Qi’s ears. “But now, to business."

  Threads 229-Pronouncement 3

  Standing in the sky above the four arenas, Sect Head Yuan He finished praising the virtues of the day’s combatants and of the potential that was to be shown in the finals the next day. He stood as tall as he had the previous year, just as unbowed by age, but the flash of oneness of supreme empathy Diao Linqin had shown her made Ling Qi see the whitening of his hair, the deepening of his wrinkles, and the harder grip on his cane.

  Sect Head Yuan He was ancient by any measure. At well over eight hundred years old, he was near the limit of even the lifespan of a seventh realm cultivator. How much longer would he last? And what would it mean when he was gone? She had not chosen the path of the Sect, but the thought still troubled her.

  “But before we finish this day’s observance, Her Grace, Duchess Cai Shenhua, has some words for us, both the people of the Emerald Seas and honored guests alike!” The old man’s voice was still a thunderclap, audible everywhere in the great colosseum.

  The radiance left their box, leaving only spotty colors in the corners of Linq Qi’s vision, and the Duchess appeared in midair beside the Sect Head. There was just the click of heels upon an invisible surface and the bloom of radiance, washing across the stands in every direction. When Cai Shenhua spoke, her face was invisible past the blinding light cast by her eyes, and her shadow was the silhouette of a rose, traced in immutable black under her feet.

  “I must congratulate the Argent Peak Sect once again. Their methods and teaching have produced still more talented cultivators for the realm, exemplars of what the youth should be! I feel more confident than ever in the future prosperity of the Emerald Seas, regardless of the foes who rise against us.”


  They were simple words, but the approval that followed them was like the swelling rumble of the sea.

  “Yuan He, Sect Head of the Argent Peak, you have my praise and admiration.” The glorious light dimmed as its human shell tipped her head, and Ling Qi could feel the absolute truth and sincerity of those words in her bones. The Sect Head bowed much more deeply in response. “So, I will not steal the thunder of announcing your own plans. Instead, my people, my guests, I have other news.”


  The rumble of communal sound subsided into silence, awaiting what she had to say. Beside her, Cai Renxiang stared down at her mother with extreme intensity. Ling Qi felt herself growing nervous in sympathy.

  “First, it is my honor as her steward in this province to announce the ascension of her Divine Majesty, the Empress Xiang, into the eighth realm. Welcome news for us all! Some of you may have heard this already through your own means, I am sure, but for the rest, let us all celebrate this happy occasion now!” The Duchess’ voice was jovial, despite still thrumming with power. The roar of approval from the coliseum was tremendous, and the Duchess did not speak for a time, allowing it to pass.

  “Less joyously, I must turn my words to the war which assails us from the cloud barbarians and those dark folk beneath our feet, allied against us.” Cai Shenhua’s voice turned more serious. “It is most vexing that the peace won by the bravery of Yuan He and the other heroes of the incursions be brought so short. So little time we have had to rebuild from the ruin wrought by the negligence of the Hui!”


  No approval now, just grave and ready silence.

  “But our foes are disunited. This Galidan is no Ogodei, despite the spirits he allies. The cloud tribes are not united at his back. Many, knowing the futility of igniting our wrath, have gone far away into the lands of ice. These dark people, these Ith’ia, have no leader, merely squabbling cities. Those who dare to strike us may be extinguished or subjugated at our will.”


  Truth, if framed more favorably, Ling Qi thought. No lies, no deception, just facts wrapped in words that people would accept.

  “But it has revealed some problems which remain, legacy of the chaos and mistrust wrought by those we rose against,” Cai Shenhua continued without pause, her voice rising. “My White Plumes, for two centuries now, have proven the effectiveness of central training and soldiers who need not go back to other labors when off campaign. It is thus that I announce the creation of another formation. My loyal counts will provide one-eighth of the soldiers and supplies which they have claimed, tithed from their own vassals at their discretion, and these will be trained by my White Plumes. This army, this Horned Legion, will serve all the Emerald Seas, and never again will we suffer a sluggish response to a foe. They will be housed at Xiangmen at the throne's expense. My own presence here upon the front shall offset any troubles from the movement and training of soldiers.”


  Ling Qi blinked, raising her eyebrows. The sound from the other stands mirrored her surprise. It was approving, but there was a certain note of uncertainty to it. Ling Qi was certain there would be quite a bit of grumbling back in the pavilions. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that people with power were loath to give up a single scrap of it.

  “Lastly,” said the smiling Duchess, paying no mind to the more muted response, “is more personal news. I plan to set aside my lord consort, Diao Luwen.”


  Beside them, the bored looking older man grunted, straightening up in his seat. He stood, not giving them a glance, and appeared below in Cai Shenhua’s shadow. He was not a short man, but beside her, he seemed positively shrunken.

  “It has been my honor to serve in this role for so long.” Diao Luwen managed to raise his tone from active disinterest to bland formality. “And neither I nor the Diao clan bear a grudge for this change.”


  “You have been most cooperative, and in this action, I mean no insult. It is thus that I request that you remain as my Minister of Works.”


  “Nothing would please this humble man more.” Diao Luwen bowed deeply.

  “I can see the confusion that is upon you all,” Cai Shenhua said, her voice returning to its more usual languid amusement. “If there is no disagreement or grievance, why? Let me ask a question instead. Many of you have now seen my youngest daughter, complimented her health, and heaped praise upon future talent. Truly, Cai Tienli is a normal, healthy child without blemish as attested by the Medicine Saint and by your own eyes. And so, I must take responsibility and wed her other parent, Prime Minister Diao Linqin.”


  Complete silence. She and Cai Renxiang were alone in the box now. Diao Linqin stood beside the Duchess, and where their arms linked, the colorless radiance bled into a pale rose pink.

  “It is still a complex procedure,” Cai Shenhua said breezily. “But I have severed one of the last shackles of mortality for those who have reached the fourth realm. I have shown the Medicine Saint and my own highest physician the methods and instructed them to share it freely. I will not bore with technical details. The wedding shall take place on the tenth day of the next year.”


  Ling Qi leaned back in her seat under the rising sea of noise as the Duchess’ speech began to go into pleasantries and talking up of war efforts as if she had not just said something absurd. Artificial conception of human life was supposed to be impossible. Ling Qi had learned that in doing research on the nobility. It was why marriage contracts were so important and why relationships like Meizhen’s were frowned upon and pushed to the side.

  Cai Renxiang beside her was frowning deeply, so much so that her eyes were nearly squeezed shut. She didn’t speak up.

  Ling Qi thought,

  Sixiang wondered.

  Ling Qi nodded faintly. To her, it felt weird and strange to think about. To a lot of other people, it was going to be outright outrageous. Maybe even more infuriating than the tithe of soldiers, especially for those outside the Emerald Seas. How would the Bai, who strained so hard against any change, react?

  Diao Luwen returned first, appearing at the back of the box and descending without a word. The Duchess and the Prime Minister came next, Diao Linqin smiling for the first time Ling Qi could recall, while the Duchess wore a certain aura of utter satisfaction that Ling Qi found just as alien and uncomfortable as her attention.

  “Why, Mother?” Cai Renxiang spoke to Ling Qi’s surprise. “Why spend so much goodwill for this?”


  “It is important to remember where you began, my daughter, even if it costs you.” Casting a single blinding glance at them, Cai Shenahua swept away down the stairs. “Do try to remember that as you rise.”


  ***

  “It’s over,” Ling Qi murmured. The wind tugged at her hair and gown, sending them rustling atop the high grassy hill. In the landscape stretching below, Ling Qi could see the increasingly empty fairgrounds, filled with temporary mansions and pavilions in various states of deconstruction. Only the billowing pavilion of the Cai remained untouched. The Duchess would remain, as would her newest daughter. The Prime Minister would be returning to make the arrangements for the state visit of Sun Shao.

  “We end in triumph.” Gan Guangli said. His thick arms were crossed over his chest, and he held his head high. His final bout against Han Jian had been explosive, providing a worthy show for the final day of the tournament. Both of the boys had been closely matched, but in the end, it was Han Jian’s blistering speed and piercing sword that had carried the day.

  “We have only reached the starting line,” said Cai Renxiang, standing between them. She would have been in their shadow, were it not for the radiance that gleamed between the strands of her dark hair, its light banishing all such things. She stood as she once did long ago the first time they had met, square shouldered, her sword planted tip down in the earth, her hands clasped atop the hilt.

  “It is not pride to acknowledge victories.” Gan Guangli did not look away from the departing nobles. “If this is the starting line, then it is for a contest we have fought hard to be included in.”


  “As long as you know where we’re going, it’s a contest I’m sure we’ll do well in,” Ling Qi said more lightly. “Lady Cai, about what the Prime Minister said to me…”


  “Thank you for informing me of that woman’s interjection. I promise you that we will discuss it all once I have had some time to process my mother’s instruction. I do not believe myself capable of conveying her intent accurately in my current state.”


  Ling Qi gave the other girl a worried look out of the corner of her eye. She had shed most of the outward signs of her mental exhaustion, but Ling Qi did not doubt that her liege was still feeling haggard. “Cultivate well, Lady Cai. Just remember my advice.”


  “I still recall the girl whose words and conviction tore apart the rationalizations of men a century and more her senior in a decrepit village of the hills. You are strong, Lady Cai, in the ways which truly matter. Though you might doubt yourself, know that this Gan Guangli does not.”


  “I thank you both. I cannot promise to rest, Ling Qi. It is not in my nature. Gan Guangli… I cannot promise perfection, not as I once did.”


  Gan Guangli’s wide shoulders rolled in a shrug. “You know my belief, Lady Cai. Perfection is something to be reached for, never achieved. The struggle to be better is what matters.”


  “I know you well enough, Lady Cai,” Ling Qi said. “But let's have a spar again sometime, or do some light work over tea. I know you have that much in you.”


  Cai Renxiang let out a small huff, halfway between amusement and exasperation. “Promise me that the both of you will continue gainsaying me when you believe I am wrong.”


  “Always,” Ling Qi said, smiling breezily.

  “Of course,” Gan Guangli said gravely.

  They stood in silence for a long moment, watching more lanterns flicker out.

  “If I may, Lady Cai, do you have any insight into your mother’s intentions with Cai Tienli?” Gan Guangli asked.

  “On her unorthodox birth? Little. Her domain has always been the creation of artificial spirits. This seems merely an extension… or perhaps a culmination. Of her continued presence? I suspect she will attract much negative attention. However… I worry.”


  “The Sun,” Ling Qi said. “There is something wrong with Sun Liling.”


  “There is something wrong with the whole scenario,” Gan Guangli rumbled. “That they have the troops free to go south and that King Sun is intending to visit Xiangmen in person.”


  It had always been that Sun Shao did not leave the Western Territories. Ever. That he did so now was unsettling.

  Sixiang’s whisper entered her head, Ling Qi glanced to the side, troubled.

  “You have a thought, Ling Qi?” Cai Renxiang asked.

  “Just… You remember the story of the Sage Emperor? The Priestess of the Red Garden used the life conceived between the two of them to slay him. Lady Bai Suzhen doesn’t have any children, but…”


  “Surely the Sun would not consider outright treason?” Gan Guangli frowned. “Although… They are somewhat cornered given the Bai’s resurgence.”


  “A thought, indeed,” Cai Renxiang said quietly. “Let us focus on the tasks at hand. For now, the two of you collect yourselves. I require cultivation, and the month ahead shall be very busy.”


  Ling Qi gave a small nod, and the three of them split up. Her feet lifted from the grass, and Ling Qi soared away toward the far dimmer, twinkling lights of the town at the base of the Outer Sect mountain.

  There, she landed outside the gates of her mother’s house and passed within, walking at a mortal’s pace. Here, there was no indication of the events that had transpired, the connections and wheeling and manipulations. There was just a home and a small garden where she was greeted by her mother and sister. She always found herself itching for their company after encountering the Duchess.

  … Perhaps it might not be a bad thing to invite Renxiang over, at least once.

  A thought for later. Duty would beckon soon.

  Threads 230- Thunder 1

  “You’re surprisingly pushy about this.” Yu Nuan hunched her shoulders under the fur-collared mantle she was wearing.

  “You’re surprisingly shy about this,” Ling Qi retorted. They passed through the gates of the sect town without pause, staying off to one side of the street so as to not disrupt traffic too much as mortals moved to give them a respectful berth.

  “I’m not shy,” Yu Nuan argued, sparks jumping between the row of metal studs that pierced her ears. “A little more warning would have been nice is all.”


  “I think it’s more genuine if you don’t have a lot of prep time. Besides, I didn’t see you at the tournament at all. What were you up to?”


  “Training and working on a new piece for the storm lord,” Yu Nuan replied. Their footsteps carried them swiftly through the outer part of the town and into the inner. “Not like I had anything to do there.”


  “It doesn’t hurt to mingle a bit.” Ling Qi ignored Sixiang’s incredulous snort.

  “Whole reason I’m doing this, isn’t it? I’m not cut out for that.”


  “I’m not going to let you become a hermit.”


  Yu Nuan grunted in reply as they passed down the cobbled streets just dusted with the winter’s first snows.

  “Being serious, I did talk to a couple folks. I’m not hopeless,” Yu Nuan said, keeping her eyes ahead. “Got a few auditions in little courts. Nothing like what you deal in. It’s rough though since I’m up for deployment.”


  Ling Qi hummed in reply as familiar gates came into view. “But you’re not looking to get out of that?”


  “I’m not.” Yu Nuan grimaced. “I’m not some charity case. If you let me in, I’ll pull my weight.”


  “There’s nothing wrong with charity,” Ling Qi said, but she didn’t press the issue. She understood pride and how important it was for a person to have theirs. The guards standing before the gates of her mother’s house saw her and bowed, turning to open the gates at a gesture from her.

  Yu Nuan watched. “You really are just full in on this stuff, aren’t you?”


  Ling Qi gave the guards a nod as they stepped through the gate onto the well kept path. “People like to see what they expect, but that doesn’t mean you can’t ease them into accepting a different arrangement.”


  She smiled at one of the girls sweeping the path as she stepped out of the way, and the young woman, something Min if she remembered, bowed low with a murmured “Lady Ling.”


  No quiet panic or fear, just low level anxiety in the mortal. Ling Qi was getting better at this!

  Sixiang drawled.

  Yu Nuan looked around with some curiosity, not lingering on the servant as they entered. “So, we’re just meeting your mother then? That’s it?”


  Ling Qi hummed, opening the front door with a tap. “I’m sure we’ll see my little sister too, but she’s four, so I don’t think she’ll contribute much. You have your dog with you?”


  “Course,” Yu Nuan replied, stepping hastily after her.

  “Then I think you’ll have her approval,” Ling Qi said dryly. Tangent aside, she did understand what Yu Nuan was asking. “So just my mother, yes.”


  “Sorry,” Yu Nuan ran a hand through her spiked hair anxiously. “Not good at this.”


  “You’ll fit right in then. Dining room is this way.”


  “I heard things got a bit crazy at the end of the tournament,” Yu Nuan commented.

  Ling Qi paused, one hand resting on the wall. “Yes. Do you want to change your mind?”


  She still didn’t know what to think of the revelations at the end of the tournament. That was one reason she was doing this now. She wanted to take her mind off of things until Renxiang was ready to talk.

  “Nah, I don’t think the blast zones have changed much,” Yu Nuan said with a weak chuckle.

  Sixiang snickered.

  “Then, let's have a chat with my mother. You can show me this revel of yours after.”


  “Got it, Matriarch,” the older girl drawled, following as they resumed walking.

  Ling Qi grimaced, shooting her a look. That was

  going to be a thing.

  Entering the dining room, she found that her mother had changed the layout. The previous table had been replaced with a more ornate one with more space for seating. Placed out on the table was a tea set, as well as plates and platters holding the sort of little snacks often served with it.

  Her mother had picked out a nice, understated gown in dark blue and black. Ling Qi had told her that she didn’t need to stick to Ling Qi’s color scheme, but she’d ignored that. It was important for a clan to keep a theme apparently. Her mother had also taken well to her cultivation. Some of the lines on her mother’s face had smoothed, and the signs of hard living had lessened, if only a little.

  Biyu sat in her lap, fiddling with one of the tight pigtails that her mother had wound her hair into. She brightened up when she saw Ling Qi and blinked curiously at Yu Nuan.

  “My daughter, welcome back to our home,” Ling Qingge said formally. “I see you have brought a guest.”


  “I have,” Ling Qi replied, stepping forward. They’d actually rehearsed this bit! “I bring Yu Nuan, who approaches as a supplicant to the Ling clan, requesting adoption.

  Yu Nuan nodded once, stepping forward beside her and bowing. “Yes, I am Yu Nuan, the only cultivator of the Yu family, and it is my wish to join my fortune to the Ling family.”


  “I understand,” Ling Qingge said. She was proud of her mother; she came much more naturally to this sort of formality than Ling Qi did. “And what is it which you believe you may bring to the Ling clan?”


  “I bring a strong and talented pair of hands and a talent which has reached the third realm. I bring skills in music and beast handling. I bring connection to the Argent Peak Sect,” Yu Nuan spoke with a practiced air, and that was fair. This was the formal bit. “And I bring a spirit beast of my own, the Storm Herding Hound Qiu, and the possibility of more of his like.”


  There was a faint crackling pop as the spirit beast appeared beside her. The dog was not shrunken fully into a little fluff ball, but instead rose just past her knee, his blue and white coat crackling with static. The hound held his head high.

  There was a sound, high-pitched and sudden.

  Ling Qi glanced at her little sister who was staring at the dog with wide, wide eyes.

  Ling Qingge sighed. “I am sorry.”


  Well, that was why they had done this little rehearsal with low stakes. Yu Nuan still looked bewildered as the formality dropped, even though Ling Qi had explained this to her. They sat down around the table as Biyu wriggled out of her mother’s lap and rushed over to fawn over Qiu.

  “He is safe around children, isn’t he?” Ling Qingge asked, ringing the little bell on the table and indicating for a servant to come in and start serving the tea.

  “Ah, yeah, gentle as can be. He was a herding dog even before I got him,” Yu Nuan said awkwardly. “I prepped him for this, too.”


  “If I didn’t trust you with that much, the offer wouldn’t be on the table,” Ling Qi said. It helped that in her presence, little threads of protective qi always wrapped invisibly around her mother and sister. Against a peer, it would be nothing, but against regular, every day harm and accidents, her family might as well have been wrapped in steel.

  Ling Qi gave the girl…


  Sixiang recalled.

  Ling Qi gave Du Ai a small nod as she poured everyone’s tea, confident Biyu would be fine.

  “Welcome to my home then, Miss Yu,” Ling Qingge said. “Rehearsal aside, I do have some important questions I must ask you.”


  “Yes, I expected that,” Yu Nuan said, still seeming to waver between formality and her normal tone. “I’ll answer whatever I can. I understand this isn’t a small matter.”


  “Of course,” Ling Qingge said. “The first must be, are you bringing others with you? Any mortal family?”


  “No,” Yu Nuan answered, her expression tightening. “Just me. You don’t have to take on anyone else.”


  “I am sorry,” Ling Qingge said, lowering her head.

  “It’s… not like that.” Yu Nuan grimaced. “Look, I have an aunt and uncle, some cousins. They took me in for a while, but you don’t gotta worry about them.”


  Ling Qingge frowned. “You would just leave your kin behind?”


  “I know it sounds bad.” Yu Nuan hesitated for a long moment before speaking further, pushing through the explanation at a hurried pace. ” But they were pretty clear throughout my life where we stood, even if they changed their tune after I got here. Heh, I mighta respected ‘em more if they didn’t. But the point is, I bought them a nice house in Leiyong, paid my oldest cousin’s apprenticeship off, and left them a pile of silver for the rest. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve done my duty.”


  “There are many who would see that as an abrogation of duty,” Ling Qingge said. “They would say that it makes you unlikely to stand by the family you have entered if a better offer comes.”


  Ling Qi thought that sounded unfair, but her mother probably couldn’t sense the knot of bitter resentment flaring like a burned-out coal in Yu Nuan’s chest as they spoke on this.

  “That’s fair. It’s definitely unfilial of me,” Yu Nuan agreed. “All the same, I don’t want them. I’m not gonna lie about that.”


  “While I don’t know the full details, Yu Nuan has never struck me as a mercenary person,” Ling Qi interjected. She considered the little bit she understood of her mother’s family and her 'father'. She could comprehend the idea of a family she did not want.

  ‘So this is part of your motivation?” Ling Qingge queried.

  “I’m not suitable to managing a clan,” Yu Nuan said with a helpless shrug. “I get that, and the only other way around it would be to marry in, and I’d not like to put myself in some guy’s power like that with no guarantees. And being a clan of one with no backers, that’d be how that would go. I just want to live, cultivate, and work on my art. I’ll make sure to profit you, but that’s the real root of it.”


  Her mother’s expression pinched in distaste, and Yu Nuan looked worried. Ling Qi patted her mother on the shoulder, understanding the source of that expression. The darker edge to the air shattered under the sound of a child’s laughter and cheerful barks.

  Biyu had managed to clamber onto Qiu’s back, who had begun to trot around the room, and her hair had frizzed up wildly from the static. Ling Qi could sense Sixiang playing with the wind, keeping Biyu from falling. She caught her mother’s eye and gave a small nod.

  “If my daughter trusts your integrity, I will accept that,” Ling Qingge said after draining her tea cup. “I hope that you will never have cause to find the Ling clan so odious.”


  Yu Nuan glanced toward Ling Qi. “I think as long as I do right by you, your daughter will do right by me. That’s good enough for me.”


  “I like to think we can manage better,” Ling Qi said. “I’ve said it before, but family should be more than that.”


  Her mother cast her eyes down. “It should.”


  But it wasn’t often enough, Ling Qi knew. She thought of the Cai, and the He and other snippets heard from friends and acquaintances. If anything, she was the one being naive and unreasonable. “Well, it’s something to work on.”


  “That’s one way to put it,” Yu Nuan said.

  “More personally…” Ling Qingge gestured uncomfortably toward Yu Nuan. “Those… metal things. Why… precisely?”


  Yu Nuan fingered the piercings through her lower lip. “It started as a cultivation aid. I found an art that used bits of metal piercing the body as qi foci. It got me into the Inner Sect. Now, I just like them.”


  “I see,” Ling Qingge said, though she obviously didn’t.

  “Sis!” Ling Qi glanced down at the exclamation, seeing Biyu and Qiu had made their way back around to them, and now, both girl and dog grinned up at her. Biyu raised her hands. “Up!”


  Ling Qi chuckled lifting her little sister into her lap as Mother and Yu Nuan talked. Qiu scooted under her chair, shrinking as he went to curl up atop Yu Nuan’s feet.

  This would probably work. But this conversation wasn’t done.

  They had quite a hike after this.

  Threads 231 Thunder 2

  As they left the town behind, Ling Qi smiled. “I think you did pretty well there.”


  “Are you sure about that? Pretty sure your mother doesn’t approve of me,” Yu Nuan said.

  “I think she’s not entirely sure what to make of this yet,” Ling Qi corrected. “I wouldn’t call it disapproval.”


  “She’s your mom.” Yu Nuan shrugged.

  Ling Qi hummed an agreement. She liked that Yu Nuan was already growing casual with her. Most of her friends still didn’t really do casual. There was really only Su Ling and to an extent, Li Suyin. “Why did you offer to take me on this trip anyway?”


  As they left the town behind, turning toward the western foothills and the dusty road that wound between the outlying farms, Yu Nuan said awkwardly, “It’s part of the deal, isn’t it? Access is one of the resources I bring.”


  “I’m looking forward to this trip. I haven't had a chance to explore any odd spirit locales without a lot of pressure on recently.”


  “Moons, do I not even rate an odd?” Sixiang complained aloud, voice carrying on the wind.

  “Dreamwalking is entirely different,” Ling Qi shot back.

  Yu Nuan watched her out of the corner of her eye. To a mortal, Ling Qi probably would have looked crazy, arguing with the thin air. “You really that carefree?”


  Ling Qi gave her a sidelong look. “Carefree isn’t how I’d put it. I’ve worked pretty hard to earn some confidence though.”


  Her companion let out a breath. “Yeah, that’s fair.”


  Ling Qi hummed the first notes of a half-formed melody as they walked on at a swift pace, the pastoral landscape soon vanishing in favor of scrub and thin trees. Her fingers idly twitched as she toyed with the wind blowing around her. “What are you working on in your cultivation right now?”


  Yu Nuan looked up from the trail they were on, and ahead, Qiu paused, raising his own head to look back at them. “Movement. I’ve been studying Qiu and looking up similar arts. When one of us summons a storm, I want to be able to move between lightning strikes.”


  That made sense. Yu Nuan was also serving a scouting role in the sect forces. To be able to move swiftly and avoid large numbers of enemies would help her in her duties.

  “How about you?”


  “A technique called the Opened Vault,” Ling Qi answered with a smile. “It allows me to sneak between the barriers of the world and access spaces I shouldn’t be able to. Don’t tell, obviously.”


  “I’m surprised. That seems like the kind of activity you’ve tried to leave behind.”


  “Do I come off that way?”


  “I assumed,” Yu Nuan admitted as they crossed under the shade of the thickening forest that lay between a pair of larger hills. Qiu let out a bark, trotting ahead on the trail.

  “I haven’t had much need for those skills lately. But Lady Cai and I, we’re stepping out of this little walled garden. I think you have an idea of what things are really like out there.”


  “I get it. I guess I was just distracted by how shiny you lot are.”


  “Lady Cai isn’t stupid. The real world… I don’t think it will ever be as clean as she wants it to be, but there’s value in trying.”


  “And how does stealing out of people’s purses fit into that?” Yu Nuan asked.

  “What I take out, I can put back,” Ling Qi replied. “You’d be amazed at the kind of documents and objects people will carry around. More than that though, I think it’s just a first step. Are you going to stop once you figure out how to jump with the lightning?”


  “No, that’s not enough. I gotta be able to move when I need to. It's scary how much difference getting a warning out can make.”


  “And I have a lot of barriers I have to learn to navigate,” Ling Qi said wryly. Between the squabbling clans of the province, the province and the capital, and both and the foreigners, it was a labyrinth she really dreaded taking a step into.

  She’d already chosen to do it though.

  ? Sixiang needled.

  “Of course,” Ling Qi said without missing a beat. “It’s always somewhat thrilling to be unnoticed.”


  “I don’t really get that part,” Yu Nuan drawled. “Being ignored has always pissed me off.”


  And wasn’t that as clear a description of their differences as there could be. Isolation approached from two different venues seen in two different ways.

  “What are you trying to do with all of this anyway?” Yu Nuan asked as they walked on.

  “Isn’t that a big question?” Sixiang drawled aloud. “Could you answer that one?”


  Yu Nuan glanced at the empty air as if looking for a face. “You know what I mean. This whole crazy project with the barbarians.”


  Ling Qi chuckled. “I did get it.”


  She didn’t answer right away. In the end, her reasons were a little unformed. Just following Cai Renxiang’s lead in reducing mortality in the south was enough reason, and that was important. It was better if less people died, and it would be more stable and safer for both her family and her if there was peace between the Emerald Seas and the Confederation of the White Sky. But there was something more to it. There was… an inkling of an idea, a frustration, an itch.

  She liked Jaromila, and to a lesser extent, she liked the others she had met down there. Why should they have to be in conflict over misunderstanding and ancient, fossilized grudges?

  “Because someone has to be willing to talk.” Her mind went to a bloody dream and a field of bones, violence unending. If she didn’t like what she saw, then do something about it, huh? “Because I don’t like the way I see things going otherwise.”


  Sixiang shifted uncomfortably in her mind, nestling closer in a mental embrace.

  “That simple, huh?”


  “What about you?” Ling Qi asked. “What do you want from all this?”


  “I want to keep developing my music. It’s… Before the fighting, it was immature. I thought I was following Grandmaster Jiang’s path, passion and anger, but now, I think his stuff is more than that.”


  Grandmaster Jiang was the most recent of the three great musicians acknowledged in the Emerald Seas, a low ranking member of the Hui clan. His raucous and discordant melodies had nonetheless grown immensely popular in a short time before he died and his music was outlawed, only returning under the current Duchess.

  “How so?” Ling Qi tilted her head.

  “Because being angry isn’t enough. Most people are totally self-absorbed. Nothing that doesn’t directly, obviously hurt them will make them raise their heads, even if it happens right in front of them. It pisses me off.”


  Ling Qi listened as they walked on.

  “So I think what the Grandmaster was actually going for was a music that could make people shake that apathy off, if only a little. I want to do that too.”


  “And here I thought you weren’t that ambitious, but you say you want to match up with a grandmaster!”


  Yu Nuan snorted. “It’s way less crazy than what you’re doing.”


  “Fair,” Ling Qi agreed. “How much further?”


  “Not much.”


  Conversation tapered off as they approached their destination. It was a high and sheer cliff face on the side of a stony mountain capped with snow. At the base where they were, the sheer rock face gave way to a grassy slope filled with scrub, its only remarkable feature a rounded stone boulder that protruded from the grass.

  Ling Qi shaded her eyes, looking up toward the peak, shrouded even now in dark clouds. In her senses, the air here hummed and sparked with raw, undirected energy. It made the hairs on the back of her neck rise and her teeth itch, as if the very air was vibrating here. The wind felt charged, pulling away from her grasp as she tried to continue the basic exercises of the art she was practicing.

  “So, how does this go? Do you need me to fly us to the peak?”


  “I’m not sure how that’d go.” Yu Nuan shrugged off the leather strap that held her lute on her back, swinging it around to cradle in her arms as she briefly tested and tuned the strings. “Got the greeting right here. Just stay close.”


  Ling Qi nodded in understanding, following the girl up the slope. Different spirits required different greetings, and Yu Nuan knew these ones. They stepped onto the flattened stone, Yu Nuan a step ahead. There was a moment of relative silence with only the sound of the wind blowing through the vale. Then Yu Nuan began to play.

  The first note was a low bass strum, a growing rumble like a storm on the horizon, steadily picking up speed and volume. Sparks jumped from the lute strings, and smoke wafted from the body of the instrument as the melody picked up. Hard, forceful, demanding, it was a song that roared for attention and focus on the player, a command and an announcement all at once.

  There was a thunderous crack, and a bright line split the mountain face, a spider-webbing fissure filled with sparking, snapping lightning. The sky darkened overhead, and Yu Nuan’s song picked up speed, flames and sparks danced across her blurring fingers as the instrument belted out notes that no mortal lute could have made.

  Thunder crashed, and lightning struck around them. A bolt struck stone bare inches to Ling Qi’s left, then another and another, kicking up soot from flash-burned grass around their feet. Stone groaned as it split further, the fissure of lightning growing deeper and wider, splitting apart to reveal a passage formed of rumbling storm clouds.

  The soot solidified under them as Yu Nuan played. They began to rise into the air on it, drifting toward the opened portal.

  Sixiang laughed in her head.

  Ling Qi allowed herself a small smile as the cloud of soot carried them into the storm clouds. If nothing else, this was going to be interesting.

  What awaited on the other side of the crackling passage was a wall of noise that struck with physical force. It was a heavy rhythmic pounding and the cry of strings, the stamping of feet, and the roar of voices. Ling Qi saw a grand cavern of stone and crystal with boiling clouds shrouding the ceiling. Below, there was no sign of the floor, only scores and scores of spirits in uncountable shapes, mountain ogres and winged humans with the heads of birds, living clouds of mist and leaves, bonfires that walked like men, and beasts and birds of every type.

  What they bore in common was an exultant energy. They roared, they fought, they drank, they danced, and more. Above, blue-skinned ogres lined the carven paths ringing the cloud ceiling, beating upon drums of beast hide with iron sticks, and tables and fixing floated about in midair on their own clouds of soot, heavy with food and drink. Even the revelry of the Dreaming Moon held an elegance to it in its raucous revelry, but there was none of that here. This felt more like a riot than a revel.

  “Welcome to the Thunder Palace,” Yu Nuan announced, and Ling Qi could barely hear her over the din.

  “Welcome indeed!” boomed a tremendous voice, louder than Gan Guangli at his best. Leigong the Storm Shepherd, three-meters-tall, blue of skin, and with the wings of a great bat and the beak, talons, and crimson eyes of a crow, descended from the churning clouds. “Come to perform for the court again, thundercaller?”


  “Yes, and I’ve brought a guest.” Yu Nuan bowed low before the lord of this palace. “This is Ling Qi, whose family I may be joining.”


  Leigong peered at her with a sharp eye. “Oho, the one who flew with this one when we first met! If you will be taking care of my favorite musician, then you are welcome indeed to our revels, disciple of the moon.”


  “It is a very impressive gathering,'' Ling Qi complimented. “I have been looking forward to seeing it.”


  Threads 232-Thunder 3

  “Haha, well it is good to know that we can impress a revelry of the dream,” Leigong said cheerfully, the clacking of his beak punctuating the words. “But! Your arrival is sudden. I will rouse these fellows to listen later, but you have arrived just as we were arranging some games. Perhaps you and your guest would care to join us?”


  Yu Nuan looked worried, but Ling Qi just tilted her head curiously.

  “What sort of games, honored lord?” Yu Nuan asked.

  “Well, I will be arranging a game of chase and capture with many of my sons and retainers. It will be a great bit of fun in flying through the halls, a test of speed, endurance, and wit,” the Leigong said, puffing out his chest. “The winner will be the one who gathers the most jade tokens that will be given to the participants!”


  The little god continued, “The other game will be overseen by my sharp-eyed wife. It will be a grand scavenger hunt for things hidden among the palace. It seems a little fiddly to me, but it is her game after all!”


  “Please give us a moment to decide.”


  “Of course! But don’t take too long, thundercaller.” Leigong laughed, and a beat of his wings carried him back to the crowds.

  Yu Nuan took a deep breath.

  Ling Qi grinned. “It sounds like fun, but I’m guessing there’s a catch.”


  “They’re still friendly games,. But what a spirit considers friendly…”


  “Yeah. We don’t really get how fragile you guys are most of the time. I’m guessing it’ll get pretty violent with all the lightning qi here,” Sixiang said.

  “The Leigong here isn’t totally wild. He’d not have invited us if any fourth realm spirits were participating, and I don’t think anyone would go for deliberate kills, but it’d also be rude to refuse.”


  “I don’t think I’d want to refuse anyway,” Ling Qi said. “Either option seems like a fun training exercise for what we’re working on.”


  Yu Nuan blew out a breath. ”Guess so. Got a preference?”


  “What is his wife like?” Ling Qi asked, considering.

  “The Dianmu? She’s…sharp, a lot more critical than the Leigong. She still likes me, I think,” Yu Nuan said, trailing off into mild uncertainty. “You thinking the scavenger hunt then?”


  “Maybe. The chase sounds fun, but I feel like it’ll probably devolve into a big, moving brawl. The hunt sounds more considered.”


  “There’s still gonna be some brawling,” Yu Nuan warned, glancing down to where numerous fights had broken out among the revelers to the laughter and cheers of the other spirits

  “Not afraid of that. Just thinking of which game would be better for cultivation,” Ling Qi said seriously. “These kinds of games are opportunities. Technique insights come a lot easier in a place like this.”


  “You’re not wrong,” Yu Nuan admitted.

  “Did you prefer the chase?” Ling Qi asked.

  “No, I just—” Yu Nuan shifted from foot to foot. “Ah, well, she intimidates me.”


  “All the more reason,” Ling Qi said piously. “Intimidating spirits have the best loot and arts.”


  Yu Nuan squinted at her. “You’re joking, right?”


  “Of course.” Mostly. “Can you still control this thing?” Ling Qi asked, not leaving herself open for interrogation. She gestured down to the cloud of soot under their feet.

  “Oh, yeah,” Yu Nuan replied, resuming her strumming. It was a calmer but still energetic meter. “The big banquet table is usually up in the storm clouds.”


  Ling Qi nodded, glancing out to the revel. ‘Any thoughts, Sixiang?’


  “Oh, I’m good either way. I think this is gonna be fun!” Sixiang’s tone reminded Ling Qi of the muse’s earlier days.

  They rose, carried upward toward the rumbling belly of the clouds. The air was warm and damp, charged with a buzzing static that made strands of her hair jump and the hems of her gown dance, and there, in the center, was a great banquet table. It was a slab of solid rock, roughly hewn flat, and all around it were more spirits, people with the features of birds and bats, bulls and horses, and not a one missing a pair of wings in some shape.

  At the center of the table was the Leigong, seated on a cloud, laughing uproariously at something that had just been said by one of the many lesser spirits that shared his features. At his side was a woman. Like Zeqing, she could have been mistaken for a human at a distance and at a glance. But she did not sit much lower than the Leigong on her cloud, towering some four meters high. Her hair snapped and frizzed and sparked, living lightning bound through a diadem of copper wire and sparkling jewels. Her face had an artificial feel like a theater mask placed over a bonfire, and when she turned to speak to the Leigong, heat and sparks washed out. In her hands, she cradled a wide mirror of polished silver with an ornate rim, and her gown was resplendent in white and blue.

  “Hoh, made your decision then?” the Leigong crowed as they came close.

  “We have,” Yu Nuan said. “And we thank you for your invitation.”


  Ling Qi quietly scanned the rest of the rowdy table. They’d quieted with the Leigong’s words, but there were still tussles and arguments and japes going on. These were their children most likely, Ling Qi thought, the little gods of clouds and rain.

  “Don’t keep us in suspense then!” the Leigong boomed cheerfully.

  “My companion and I would like to join the scavenger hunt,” Yu Nuan said. “If it wouldn’t bother the Lady Dianmu.”


  “Never. My games are ever the less popular,” spoke the Dianmu, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she laughed. The sound crackled with electricity. “Perhaps the pair of you might give my sons some actual challenge in this round.”


  Two of the nearest spirits puffed out their chests. One resembled a smaller, leaner variation of the Leigong, and the other took more after the mother with a hook-nosed human face but wings that were arcs of snapping lightning. His whole body seemed to be made of hollow glass filled with churning clouds.

  “This Yun Long welcomes the challenge,” said the lightning winged one, surveying them with crimson eyes.

  “Mmm. It gets dull, brother,” the birdlike one said with a nod, crossing his arms over his slim chest. “Yun Sho also welcomes you, if you can keep up.”


  “That won’t be a problem,” Ling Qi said confidently. Neither spirit seemed much above them in cultivation. Yun Sho matched her, and Yun Long matched Yu Nuan.

  “Ha, jolly competition, as is proper,” said the Leigong. “Well, why don’t you go along with my wife then? You were about to announce the list, weren’t you, dear?”


  “So I was,” said the Dianmu. ”Let all participants meet upon the floor of the great hall.”


  The mirror held in her hands flashed, and the greater spirit vanished in a bolt of lightning. The lesser spirits shot them a smirk before their wings began to beat, and they dove down through the belly of the cloud.

  Ling Qi allowed herself a small smile at her companion’s frown and bowed to the Leigong as the strumming picked up and their little soot cloud descended.

  What awaited below in the main hall was a riot on pause. The drum beating of the ogres had risen to a new crescendo, playing a pulsing, rhythmic beat, but the other sounds had died down. The winged spirits flocked in a great black ring above, and the ground-bound ones stood still, some in mid-dance step or thrown punch. In the center was the Dianmu standing at her full height, a crackling light that cast long shadows throughout the room

  “Friends and guests! The time for the day’s games has come. My husband will be down shortly for the merry chase, but for those who might like a different game, I offer a hunt!” the Dianmu announced to raucous approval. “The rules are simple. The game shall be played in pairs, and betrayal of your partner is verboten. I shall make a list of hints toward items to be found and collected. The pair which brings me the items that match most closely to what I had in mind in the greatest quantity shall earn of me one favor. The time limit shall be an hour!”


  Even as she spoke, her hand rose, and from it, sparks and lines of lightning rained, shaping themselves into characters and sentences.

  The breath of a dragon, fresh and encasedA flower born of mountain stone, sparkling and hotThe sharpest blade, wielded by no handThe light of the sun, captured and radiantA lady’s laughter, bright and pure

  “These shall be your targets, hunters. Stand now with your partner, if you wish to play, that my eyes may mark you,” the Dianmu continued as the list resolved in burning form, remaining unmoving in the air.

  Ling Qi scanned the list and thought on what they could mean. “Any immediate ideas?” she asked quietly.

  Yu Nuan sucked a breath through her teeth, brow furrowed. “I think I know what she means by the flower and the breath.”


  “That’s good,” Ling Qi said. “You know this cloud is too slow, right?”


  “What do you—” Yu Nuan began, turning her frown toward Ling Qi.

  “I have seen you, hunters. Begin!” the Dianmu called out brightly.

  And then, they were in the air as Ling Qi grasped Yu Nuan’s hand and flew. The girl let out a startled yelp as they left even a hint of the firmament behind and flew from the great hall.

  “What the hells!" Yu Nuan shouted, holding tight to the neck of her lute with her free hand. "Where are we going?!”


  “Don’t know yet!” Sixiang laughed. “But look, half a dozen teams zoomed right after, thinking we do. Give my girl some quick directions, and let those zoom off the wrong way.”


  Yu Nuan muttered a string of curses, glancing around wildly at the palatial hall Ling Qi had flown down.

  Sixiang whispered.

  Ling Qi immediately darted down the passage to the right, the air shimmering as the image of their party shot off down the left passage, an illusion made by Sixiang’s twisting of the air, imbued with a hint of reality by dream qi.

  It was enough to split their pursuers at the very least.

  “There’s gonna be a locked door at the second stair,” Yu Nuan shouted. “I don’t have an escort this time.”


  “Got it!” Ling Qi replied. “Can you picture it really clearly for a second?”


  “I…guess?” Yu Nuan shouted back uncertainly.

  Sixiang conveyed to her the image, a marble door inlaid with intricate scrollwork and carvings of the Leigong and other spirits in court.

  Another image of them shot off ahead, and they stepped ever so briefly into dream. It was a technicolor kaleidoscope of energy, blindingly bright and screaming with tearing wind. Then they emerged on the other side of the door.

  “Neat trick, eh?”


  “Something like that,” Yu Nuan grumbled.

  “So, what’s our target?” Ling Qi flew down the shadowed stairs as Yu Nuan collected herself. A bolt of lightning struck a stair ahead, and she reappeared there with a crack, soon following Ling Qi under her own power.

  “There’s a crystal farm below. Pretty sure that fits the flower hint,” Yu Nuan answered

  That would be one down, Ling Qi thought. This was going to be fun.

  Threads 233-Thunder 4

  These deep halls were quiet. Whether this was because of the party above or a regular occurrence, Ling Qi didn’t know. Worked stone and polished tiles gave way to more natural stone, organic formations of rock shaped by eons of dripping water taking over for the artificial decor from above. They descended a little slower now, the mad dash of the opening moments behind them. Yu Nuan now rode on the back of Qiu, grown to his full horse-like size.

  “How did you find out about this?” Ling Qi asked, skirting along beneath the damp “teeth” of rock that lined the roof of the passage.

  “The Leigong took me down here for a lesson. It was a reward for a song,” Yu Nuan whispered over the happy panting of the thunder hound she rode, voice carrying on Sixiang’s breeze.

  “Seems strange for a spirit of storm and thunder,” Ling Qi said dubiously.

  “He said it was about understanding the origin of the storm,” Yu Nuan explained. “And I kinda get it. It all comes back to water. Hey, don’t touch anything off the path!”


  Ling Qi blinked, immediately banking to the side to fully avoid a curtain of gleaming stone that seemed like a cascade of water frozen in time. She’d not have touched it physically, but a trail of her qi would have. “Alarms? Traps? I don’t sense anything.”


  “No. But if you get your qi into the stones here, it’ll piss off the gardener. We need him sweet to get what we need.”


  Ling Qi nodded absently, dropping a little lower and pulling in her aura further, tight against her skin. She focused now and could see the “path” Yu Nuan had mentioned, a corridor of stone with silent, static qi. She vaguely remembered Bao Qian speaking of stone gardens in regards to his clan. “Got it. A big spirit then?”


  “Pretty sure the Leigong’s still the boss, but he treated the guy down here with respect. C’mon.”


  Down they went, through winding caverns of increasing beauty, past pools lined with living crystals and strange, alien formations of stone, until at last they came to a wide chamber filled with water that bubbled and boiled, an underground lake spotted with isles of stone. There were dozens of isles, each overgrown with glittering crystal in many hues, and in the center was a small stone hut, humble and inconspicuous. Above, steam rose into a shroud near the cavern’s roof, and the air was thick with humidity.

  Ling Qi grimaced at the dampness, weaving a tight web of cooler air around her to keep it off. Soft snow fell in her wake, melting instantly when she stepped away. “No lava?”


  “Not that kind of stone. Like I said, it’s all about the water. The way it changes, rises, and falls and how heat influences the storm. Least that’s what I got out of it. A storm arises from many factors.”


  Ling Qi hummed. She wasn’t going to gainsay another cultivator on something core to her methods, even if she didn’t entirely get it. “Good. What’s our plan? Call out, make an offering?”


  “Since it looks like the headstart got us here first, this should be easy,” Yu Nuan said, unlimbering her lute. “This guy liked my songs too, so I think I’ve got this one. Can you prep us to get out though? There’s a vent up there, and we can probably go up quickly if you protect us from the heat and do whatever it is you did earlier.”


  “Dreamwalking,” Ling Qi corrected absently, spinning up some more icy qi. She kept an eye and an ear on the passage behind them with a trailing silver wisp while Sixiang kept their attention on the air currents.

  Yu Nuan grunted an acknowledgement as she strummed a few testing notes. She then launched into a song. It wasn’t the usual blazing inferno and striking lightning of her works, more like a spring flood put to music. What it lacked in volume and thunder, it made up for with a tonal discord that nonetheless managed to be coherent.

  Out on the bubbling lake, the little stone hut rattled, and its door drifted open, revealing a single crystalline eye larger than Ling Qi. Two stony lids appeared as it first looked at them and then shut as the music washed out, a moment of song.

  “Little cloud.” The voice reverberated from the rock around them, grinding and heavy. “You were passing. Not fools to slap away from my gardens. Why do you come? The revel roars. Be there. The quiet is not for you.”


  Yu Nuan bowed her head. “The Lady Dianmu set us a hunting game, and I think one of your crystals is an answer. Could we bargain for one?”


  “That woman,” the stone spirit rumbled. “So thoughtless, sending drunkards to gambol in my gallery. Take one then, and get you gone. One less hoodlum fighting down here will only make it easier to keep order.”


  The eye shifted to Ling Qi, squinting. “And take that one with you. The cold will upset the pool.”


  “Please. I’d like to not trouble you long, sir,” Ling Qi said.

  “See that you don’t, and keep this one out of trouble, you hear?” the curmudgeonly rock gardener rumbled, his voice felt in her bones. One of the crystal-filled islands floated closer, parting the waters like a ship, allowing Yu Nuan to pluck a bright red crystal, still sparkling with superheated qi.

  The girl hissed, tossing it from one hand to another for a second before Sixiang snatched it from the air with a gust of wind, sending it to storage.

  “We’ll not trouble you any longer, sir,” Yu Nuan said, bowing hurriedly. Ling Qi began to detect some noise coming down the tunnels. “May we use the vent?”


  The eye looked dubious. “If you’ll not burn up.”


  “We’ll be fine,” Ling Qi reassured, bowing as well. “Yu Nuan?”


  Her companion nodded, and they dashed off above the lake, kicking up ripples as they flew into the cloud of steam. Ling Qi spread her aura, a careful application of the lessons lent by her mentor to render it merely hot and uncomfortable rather than heated beyond mortal reason. They passed swiftly through the layer of moisture, following the curvature of the ceiling and flying up and up until they were moving straight up a tube only five or six meters wide.

  “The dragon’s breath is probably on the mountain peak,” Yu Nuan called. “You got an idea for the others?”


  “Maybe,” Ling Qi called over the hiss of the steam. “Does this place have a library or a poet?”


  “Why?” Yu Nuan’s face screwed up for a moment. “Ah, I get it. I was thinking of the little weasels that run around this place with the sharp claws. Yeah, there’s a library. Why’d you think of that?”


  “Because Lady Cai’s sword is named Cifeng, spelled with the characters ‘cutting words’,’” Ling Qi explained absently, getting a feel for the folds of dream in this narrow space. Catapulting them straight up shouldn’t be too hard.

  “What,” Yu Nuan said dully.

  “Nothing wrong with a good pun,” Sixiang said cheerfully. “Or a bad one! Hold onto your insides!”


  “Oh n—” Yu Nuan began hunching down on Qiu’s back.

  And then they were within a scintillating rainbow of steam and flames, surrounded by dancing shards of rock and crystal, and rising toward roiling thunderheads shot through with kilometers long spans of golden scale. They blinked back into the vent just in time to erupt from its exit in a cloud of superheated vapor.

  The chamber they emerged in was all polished wood, save for the stone floor, filled with benches and buckets and hanging plants. All manner of spirits lazed about in a state of ill dress, and… Did she spot a disciple or two scattered about? Was this kind of sauna?

  Ling Qi flushed and spied an exit, flashing toward it in a twist of wind and shadow, leaving a burst of frozen air and outraged yelps behind as she darted off down the passage. Qiu thundered after her, paws striking sparks in the air as he galloped after her with his tongue out, Yu Nuan holding frantically to her back.

  Sixiang cackled in her head.

  Just ask Yu Nuan where the library was, Ling Qi thought grouchily. And what was up with Yu Nuan? She didn’t look scandalized at all. Had she known where they were going to come out?

  Honestly, how shameless.

  ***

  They ran into their first spot of trouble on the way to the Thunder Palace’s library. Their flight path took them through a rowdy brawl spanning a whole palace hall. Ogres and bird men clashed there, sending the whole passage rocking with the thunder of clubs and the beating of wings. She didn’t even think they were other hunters, although the brawl might have been part of the chase game, but that didn’t stop the lightning and diving claws that came their way. Ling Qi and Yu Nuan gave as good as they got, refusing to let it slow them down by much as they moved, dodged, and sprinted through the chaotic riot of bellowing spirits, leaving shocked and half-frozen foes in their wake.

  Finally, they escaped down a side passage and found their way to the wide doors of the library.

  What they found there was a foggy expanse, shelving visible only as shadows in the mist, and what Ling Qi could only assume was the library’s keeper behind a too small desk. Unlike the other spirits she had seen up close thus far, this one did not seem like a man with some features of a bird, but rather, a bird with some features of a man.

  He seemed old, sagging jowls and flaps of skin on his long neck wobbling as the library’s keeper bent to look at them. In one talon, he held up a monocle as he turned his head to the side to peer at them, magnifying his own rheumy black eye in their view.

  “What is this then?” he asked, beak clacking out of time with the scratchy words. “Another hunter?”


  Ling Qi grimaced. Of course someone else would have this idea. “Yes. Have there been many so far?”


  “Just two pairs so far,” the keeper said. “They’ve not come back yet. S’pose I’ll have to check the books tonight. No use letting them get off their diets.”


  Yu Nuan coughed into her hand. She was a little more singed than Ling Qi from the brawl. “Do you have a section for satire?”


  She glanced toward Ling Qi for approval, who nodded. That kind of dissident writing would definitely be the most cutting.

  “A few scrolls, a few poems,” the library keeper said. “This is the Thunder Palace though, young lady. You should know we don’t just give things away. If you’d like your poems, you’ll hunt them down and subdue them yourself like a proper scholar.”


  Ling Qi and Yu Nuan both simply nodded.

  “C’mon,” Sixiang urged. “Pretty sure I got the scent of something good.”


  Giving their respect to the library keeper, they set off into the mist. The shelves were, Ling Qi noted, closed and locked cases with fronts of wood or glass. Each one rattled and shook as they passed, and Ling Qi felt dozens and dozens of qi signatures. This was far beyond the sect archives where the tomes and scrolls were curated to limit and control their development as spirits. The books here were wild and alive.

  But she hadn’t yet sensed something sufficiently sharp, and so they went on, deeper into the winding stacks, guided by Sixiang’s sharper sense. Eventually, Ling Qi could feel in the air something of what Sixiang was following, muffled whispers that cut winding trails through the mist, churning and carving short-lived tunnels through it, and they came upon a high and ornate case with sturdy copper shutters over its shelves, locked and barred.

  “It doesn’t look so bad.” Ling Qi peered down at the formations inscribed on the metal. She could probably open this, though it might take a while. “Not sure I want to just open it.”


  The shelf rattled violently, straining the chains keeping it bound to the wall and floor. There were a lot of fairly potent auras inside of that case.

  Yu Nuan squinted. “I think we can take ‘em if we have to, but you’re right. Might not be a good idea. Hunting or not, the keeper might be testy if we make too much of a mess. You think you got this one?”


  Ling Qi nodded. “Let me try a technique. If it doesn’t work, I’ll unlock it, you catch the sharpest one you can sense, and then we run for it.”


  Yu Nuan blew out a nervous breath, glancing down the stacks as she settled in to wait a moment.

  Ling Qi stared at the cabinet doors as if trying to burn a hole in them. She’d done some practice with this technique, and it wasn’t so far from dreamwalking. But the tricky part was… not leaving the material world entirely, but instead, reaching through the dream. It was hard to frame interactions like this in human words.

  Biting her bottom lip, Ling Qi put her hand to the sealed doors and concentrated, circulating dream and wind qi through the meridians in her arm. She just needed to sort of wiggle her hand between the spaces in the physical matter like slipping through infinitesimally small bars.

  She felt the edge of a page prick her fingertips, and she took in a sharp breath as she grabbed onto a struggling scroll and yanked it back through without triggering the formations locking the cabinet. “Hah, that’s not so bad!”


  It was a long way from the real thing given that this was still a physical container, but it was a good start. “Alright, let’s—”


  She cut off her words as she sensed a shift in the air, a thread of qi, not her own, intruding on her aura. The qi yanked, tearing the scroll from her grasp as a booming cackle rang out.

  Ling Qi looked up in time to see a blur of blue and white carving through the mist on a trail of lightning and one of the Leigong’s sons laughing mockingly as the two zoomed away. The trailing scroll snapped into the cloud-like brother’s outstretched hand on a glittering diamond thread.

  That was not going to stand.