by Tao Wong
Within the building itself, soil was stacked three levels high on standing, movable shelves. Gardeners worked each shelf of plants, mixing soil and compost together with other, more specialized fertilizers to ensure the growth of the spirit herbs. Wu Ying had vivid memories of gathering some of that fertilizer—fire beetles, fruit bat dung, and the innards of golden koi were the least objectionable types. In addition, each gardener had a few bags of crushed demonic cores to disperse into the soil as they worked. More than once, Wu Ying felt the tremors of wood and earth aspected chi flow from a cultivator into the soil.
Every single cultivator worked with intense focus, driven even higher when Elder Li, with her wooden cane, strolled by, peering over their shoulders. At times, the old woman would provide words of encouragement or correction before moving on. Wu Ying quickly dumped his bag and trotted out, not wanting to engage the Elder at this time.
In short order, Wu Ying finished delivering the compost bins and trotted over to Senior Goh. He breathed deeply, clear of the burdensome containers, circulating his chi through his body as he tried to reenergize himself.
“You look tired,” Senior Goh said, frowning. “The bags weren’t that heavy.”
“It’s an exercise,” Wu Ying replied.
Ever since he had made the decision to go with the regeneration exercise—amusingly entitled the Never Empty Wine Pot—Wu Ying had been training with his dantian as empty as he could. That required him to continually speed up the flow of his chi, an exercise that would also toughen up and train his meridians. If only marginally. More to the point, by setting up the first of the eight levels of chi vortexes within his dantian, he was working on improving his regeneration rate. At the same time—because, in theory, setting up the vortex was a one-off act which just needed to be continued—Wu Ying was adjusting his aura. Since he was “stuck” in the Aura Strengthening phase of his aura development, this would allow him to continue his progression in his studies there as well.
“Carrying bags of compost? At your cultivation level?” Senior Goh snorted.
“Cultivation exercise,” Wu Ying said.
One of the disadvantages of having a mostly empty dantian was the exhaustion it engendered. Wu Ying felt as though he was constantly only a quarter-full, having only finished a single steamed bun every meal. Except this state persisted throughout the day until he woke, when his constant expenditure of chi stopped and his natural regeneration refilled him.
“Ah. Is it going well?” Senior Goh said, cocking his head curiously.
Discussions between cultivators, even those within the same Sect, were always tenuous. Cultivation secrets were common, because knowing what another cultivator did gave you an advantage in battle. On the other hand, members of the same Sect were prone to practice the same cultivation forms and might be able to provide some degree of advice and support. And of course, being cultivators, most of their lives revolved around the progression of their immortality. Avoiding the topic entirely left one with few conversational topics.
“Not really,” Wu Ying said. “It’s… been a struggle.”
Wu Ying had debated if he was trying too many things at the same time and pushing too hard. He could progress the vortex without being nearly empty. It was easier to notice the differences and its disappearance when he was so empty, but it made it harder on Wu Ying. On top of that, because he had blocked out—or was attempting to block out—the flow of chi to his body that was not properly aspected, the total amount of chi he was drawing was lower than normal. It was like supping on soup using a spoon meant for children while one was ravenous. Slow, painful, and frustrating.
“Huh.” His Senior shrugged, having no more to say.
In truth, there wasn’t much to discuss. Not without giving more information. And this was one exercise that Wu Ying decided to keep to himself.
“Well, keep working on it.”
“I will,” Wu Ying said. “What next?”
“For the garden?” When Wu Ying nodded, Ru Ping pursed his lips. “We have more than enough gardeners inside. And the weather sniffers say that there should be no more chills, so…” Ru Ping turned his head, his gaze landing on a series of standing stones in one corner of the expansive gardens.
“Oh no.”
Ru Ping grinned. “Don’t worry. We can move them after lunch. I’ll show you all the map.”
Wu Ying let out another groan and seriously debated letting his dantian fill for this. Elder Li’s gardens were carefully adjusted according to the season. Between the chi gathering formation that surrounded the gardens themselves and the greater formation for the Sect, the chi density in the gardens was extremely high. But seasonal variations meant that the garden had to be constantly adjusted. In some cases, those adjustments were entirely natural—different types of plants that grew, bloomed, or faded during different seasons. But just as often, there were adjustments that had to be done manually—like the alteration of the rock formations, the pagodas, and the benches. It was backbreaking work. While it was done on a weekly—sometimes daily—basis, once a season, the major changes had to be made.
“Look at it this way. At least Elder Li isn’t going to be quizzing you,” Ru Ping said.
“At least.” Wu Ying shuddered at that thought.
Ever since winter had arrived, not only had the Elder decided to make Wu Ying continue his apothecary classes to better understand and use the herbs he gathered, she had begun questioning him whenever they met. She prodded him to finish memorizing the documentation she had gathered and forced Wu Ying to begin his own encyclopedia. One that included locations of where and what he had picked.
Wu Ying saw the value of what she wanted done. Every herbology encyclopedia, every manual on plants and spiritual supplies he had found differed. Some in small areas, some in large amounts. But when you were talking about identifying potentially fatal and toxic plants, even a small difference could be considered dangerous.
It was not even a matter of incompetence, but individual idiosyncrasies. Drawings of plants that might work for one author might be insufficient for another. Regional variations on plants—especially spirit herbs—could be significant. At times, certain plants could be identified by identifying the plants that grew around them, rather than the actual physiology of the plant itself. But that required a knowledge set that might—or might not—be available to other readers. And lastly, there were complications that arose from cultivators who had specific cultivation skills like Thrice-Seeing Chi Sight or Nose of the Porcine.
And so, you created your own encyclopedia. You wrote what you knew, added to it the notes you found, and hoped that it worked out. Eventually, your own document might be added to others. And so, the circle of badly created encyclopedias went on.
“You’re right,” Wu Ying said, flashing his friend and Senior a smile. “But if I’m moving all that, I’m eating first.”
Waving goodbye to his Senior, Wu Ying headed for the outer sect member he spotted carrying trays of food.
Chapter 5
Wu Ying groaned, staring at the slowly darkening sky as he leaned back and stretched the knotted muscles in his lower back. Sunset came fast in the mountains, which was why the gardening team had packed up once the sun started dipping. This time around, they’d managed to get everything finished on time, so Wu Ying found himself on the road down from the gardens, enjoying the smell of clean spring air. As he finished his stretch and continued his walk, the cultivator was surprised to see milling groups of sect members clustered together and chatting along the roadways, especially at the crossroads.
Wu Ying frowned, curiosity rising. Not enough to start a discussion with the others though, since he knew he’d eventually hear of it. The Sect was like his village in many ways. Any good gossip eventually made its way to his ears. And some not great gossip too.
He was nearly to his residence when his friends, Tou He, Li Yao, and Chao Kun found him. The pair of martial specialists and the monk were looking all too eager to
discuss the latest gossip. Wu Ying stopped as they swarmed him.
“So are you excited?” Chao Kun said, his eyes gleaming.
“I’m not sure Wu Ying would be. Certainly not as much as you,” Tou He said, shooting Chao Kun an amused glare.
“He’s not dumb enough to get involved,” said Li Yao.
“Excited about what? Involved in what?” Wu Ying said exasperatedly.
“What? You haven’t heard?” Chao Kun said.
“Not yet.”
“The war,” Chao Kun said.
Wu Ying gave up and continued walking.
“You’re supposed to reply when someone asks you a question,” Li Yao said, rolling her eyes at Chao Kun. She skipped ahead and smiled at Wu Ying, falling in beside him with a welcoming, sweet smile.
“You haven’t answered his question either,” Tou He pointed out.
Li Yao pouted. “Neither have you!”
Wu Ying ignored the bickering group, strolling languidly and enjoying the walk in the fast cooling mountain. It would be nice to get home, to wash up. After a day of farming, a hot bath was perfect. And he knew that Ah Yee would have it ready for him. A luxury he felt guilty about sometimes, but one that he still indulged in. Was this the way nobles felt all the time?
“The king sent his envoy to talk to the Sect about the war,” Chao Kun finally explained when the trio’s argument ended. “He’s here to discuss our involvement.”
“They’re going to ask us to send more help,” Tou He said.
“The king always does this. He always asks for aid when things worsen. He should learn to wield his staff himself,” Li Yao groused.
“You’d know,” Chao Kun said.
Tou He frowned, cocking his head and looking at Wu Ying. Wu Ying mouthed “Lord,” making the ex-monk nod in understanding.
“A king’s envoy is a big thing, isn’t it?” Wu Ying said to head off the argument. “Something like the king himself?”
“Not something like. Exactly as if. He has the king’s seal,” Chao Kun said. “This is big. The entire time I’ve been here, I’ve never seen an envoy before. This is big.”
“You said that already,” Li Yao said. “And of course it is. The Six Jade Gates Set has gained multiple peak Core practitioners. The kingdom will suffer greatly if we do not commit our own Core cultivators.”
“Isn’t that what the entire expedition was for?” Wu Ying said, shaking his head. “I’m sure Elder Po at the least would join. And both Elder Dong and Wei managed to ascend. They’re in secluded cultivation now.”
“All the good that’ll do the kingdom,” Chao Kun said. “Even Elder Li has spent much time reinforcing her cultivation. And you know she will not be at the forefront of the war. Only Elder Po would be ready to help right now.”
“Kind of makes it seem as though everything we did on the expedition was a waste,” said Wu Ying. “We suffered a lot for such a minimal increase to our strength.”
Wu Ying looked at his friend, who had managed to heal for the most part. The ex-monk had never complained about the long hours he had spent healing after the expedition, but Wu Ying knew that the injuries still bothered him at times. It was only the progression in his cultivation stage that allowed Tou He to continue without any external effects. Of course, Wu Ying had to concede it could be that the experience and enforced rest had helped push his friend ahead too. Cultivation could be strange like that sometimes.
“In the short term, probably. But we are cultivators. We should not be thinking only in the short term,” said Chao Kun. “Once the elders stabilize their cultivation, we will have a much stronger Sect.”
“That does remind me,” said Wu Ying. “Why do we dislike—no, not dislike—fight the Six Jade Gates Sect?”
“It is because certain cultivators who should know better keep interfering with the mortal world,” said Li Yao. “Their Sect leader is the State of Wei’s king’s ancestor. It’s why the Six Jade Gates Sect throws so much support behind them.”
“I believe it is more complicated than that, Li Yao,” said Chao Kun. “I have heard rumors that the Sect Elder of the Six Jade Gates’ dao is that of conquests.”
“I heard it was domination,” said Tou He.
“Sounds the same to me,” said Li Yao.
“Only to someone who isn’t paying attention,” said Chao Kun. “One requires you to constantly grow, to continually battle. The other only requires you to own.”
“Own what?” said Wu Ying.
“Everything.”
Chao Kun’s pronouncement silenced the group. It also helped that they had finally arrived at Wu Ying’s residence. Together, they retired to Wu Ying’s greeting room, taking seats among all the wooden furniture inlaid with mother-of-pearl. After spending over a year in this residence, he had grown quite comfortable with it. Even if it was still the smallest, least ostentatious, and farthest inner sect residence, it suited him. He could have gotten something a bit larger, especially since the competition to add additional members to the sect had finished last fall, but he felt uncomfortable pushing himself forward that way. This was more than sufficient for him. Once the group settled, Ah Yee arrived with her usual efficiency and supplied the group with snacks and tea.
“I don’t really care what his dao is,” Li Yao said as she snacked on roasted sunflower seeds. “I just don’t want to get involved in the war. I’m here to be a cultivator, not a soldier.”
“So you’re not interested in joining the expedition?” said Wu Ying. “I understand that the volunteers often receive a significant number of contribution points. I would think, with the king’s envoy here, the rewards would be even greater.”
In truth, that was one of the reasons Wu Ying was interested in the war. As a peasant, he did not have the riches many of his compatriots did. And while all inner sect members receive a stipend, no ambitious cultivator—and all cultivators were ambitious by definition—would suffer themselves to be slowed down by the minuscule amounts they received.
“You can’t spend anything if you are dead.” Li Yao took a deeper breath and added, “Not that I expect us to die, but it is a war. I can’t help but think that taking part is probably a bad thing for one’s dao, unless it was aligned to something like this.”
“Li Yao is a well-known objector to the war,” said Chao Kun.
“I just object to how much help we provide to the kingdom,” said Li Yao. “The state of Wei is already overextended. If we let them fight our mortal armies, they will eventually tire themselves out. They cannot hold this much land. It is basic strategy.”
“And how many mortals would die following this strategy?” Wu Ying frowned at his girlfriend and her callous dismissal of those who would have to fight.
“Well, that would really depend on the generals involved. General Jin has a tendency to fight losing battles, but General Zhen is much more prudent. He’s more likely to pull back before things grow too damaging.”
Wu Ying shook his head, once more remembering the things that stood between him and Li Yao. His village was one of those that would be taken, be sacrificed in her strategy. Li Yao, on the other hand, came from the north, her home safe behind the river that bisected the top third of the nation. Like Lord Yi, she and her family would never really have to deal with the armies of Wei. In fact, the rich silver-loaded mountains in the north made the entire region almost autonomous from the kingdom of Shen. There was probably more to the politics involved, but Wu Ying was still learning his way around these facts. As a former peasant, his local politics involved chickens, the occasional cow, and drainage. A lot of talks about drainage.
“Well, what do people think? How many core Elders will the Six Gates send? And did anyone hear how they did over the winter? Did they manage to promote anyone else?” Tou He said to return the conversation to their initial point.
Chao Kun pursed his lips. “I heard some rumors that the Six Gates might have had a few more fortuitous encounters. They managed to promote six new members t
o the first stage of Core development.”
“Six!” exclaimed Tou He.
“Won’t they need a long time to stabilize their cultivation?” Wu Ying said.
“It will be shorter. Depending on the individual, it could be as short as winter,” Li Yao said. Of the group, she and Chao Kun were the closest to achieving Core cultivation and would have more information on the requirements. “After you form your Core, the initial period requires you to fill up your meridians and Core with chi. It is not—as my Master informs me—very hard. Other than that, they would need to gain an understanding of their new strength and learn a new, more suitable, martial technique.”
“Which is easier on the battlefield,” Chao Kun pointed out, waving his teacup.
“Only for those specializing in martial areas.” Wu Ying chuckled. “I don’t think Master Li sees any point in expanding her understanding of the martial arts.”
“Har. No. Though with her skills…”
The talk turned to more speculation as the group threw out names of Elders, wondering if they would be added or subjected to the call for volunteers. The addition of Core experts to the force was a certainty. How many and who was the question.
And in between, Wu Ying was forced to wonder. Why did his fate-believing, karma-loving Master decide to join the war two years ago? It was very uncharacteristic of him.
***
Elder Li was the first to find Wu Ying a couple days later. The discussion with the king’s envoy had continued in the upper levels of the sect and had, at first, been all that everyone discussed. But days after his arrival and with little word trickling down, the normal business of the Sect had reasserted itself. Elder Li thus found Wu Ying tending to a pair of early blooming magnolias, pruning branches and checking on the soil.
“You should not take part,” Elder Li said.
“In the war?”
“No. Dinner. Of course the war.” Elder Li thumped her cane on the ground to emphasize her point. “You are a Gatherer and my student. Not a stupid martial specialist.”
