by Tao Wong
“I’m glad to hear there is a solution.”
“As am I. The damage, at least for me, was minimal. A few months of consolidation and it should be wiped clean, and I can continue my cultivation journey.”
“Good, very good,” Wu Ying repeated, finding himself running out of words to say.
“And you? Did the tower help you?”
Wu Ying paused.
Seeing his hesitation, she grew serious. “Did it not help?”
“It did. I know my problems, but the solution…” Wu Ying shrugged.
“Oh!” A hand covered her mouth, and sympathy flared. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s not over yet.”
“Of course. Of course…” The pair fell into an awkward silence before Xiang Wen stepped back and bowed to Wu Ying. “Then… perhaps we shall meet again. Once more, it was a pleasure meeting you. Even if our introduction was less than routine.”
“It was. It is,” Wu Ying said, bowing to Xiang Wen too. “If fate permits, we shall meet again.”
Smiling softly and a little sadly, Xiang Wen walked off. Wu Ying watched her leave, only realizing as she was more than a few hundred feet away that he might have asked her to join them for a meal. Then he chuckled to himself, brushing the idea away. Xiang Wen probably had better things to do with her time. Like getting ready to leave.
Though he never did ask her when exactly she intended to leave.
Dismissing the thought, Wu Ying headed back to his inn, mulling over his mistake of not asking her out. And then chastising himself for thinking that. She was from another sect. And was about to leave. And of course, she would have no interest in him, a foolish cultivator on his last legs. He had no idea why he was thinking about this so much anyway. He had no time for such random musings.
Still, he could have asked.
***
Another day of routine, another day of failure, another day closer to leaving.
Wu Ying lay in bed, his body keeping him up as it reminded him of the pain it was in. The effects of the physician’s acupuncture blockages and the pills he provided wore off late at night, often disturbing Wu Ying’s rest. By dawn, he would be fine, the pain fading as he cultivated and helped reinforce the blockages the physician had put in place. But in the early hours of the morning, just before dawn, the aches and pains returned with a vengeance.
Wu Ying lay in bed breathing, cultivating. He gently pushed at the blocks the physician’s needles had created at his meridian points, reinforcing them. It was not a solution to his problem, just a way to let him function. A way to allow him to push forward without consideration for his body. Certainly not something that would ever be recommended.
Unless you were dying.
Wu Ying almost broke his own meditation with the wry, dark humor that threatened his peace of mind. He shoved it down, pushed at his chi, and layered it across his meridians. Reinforcing what had happened, trying to do his best to recover. To feel better so that he could at least catch a few hours of sleep.
He lay there as the cicadas chirped, drowsy insects buzzed through the room, and the gentle breeze brought the smells of the river toward him. The smells of fresh water and a little bit of human refuse. Burnt and slightly rotten, like old oil that had been left to rot.
Wu Ying sighed, forcing another breath, another moment of calm. He pushed chi through his meridians, reinforcing the blocks in his neck, his lungs and kidneys, his spine. He exhaled turbid air, allowing it to flow across his lips to stain the air.
Another breath in. That burnt, rotten smell growing. Familiar. Too familiar.
Wu Ying’s eyes flew open even as he sent his chi swirling back to his dantian. Another moment, his eyes sought out movement in the dark. A twist of his hips and Wu Ying rolled off his bed—moments before the blade sunk into his wooden slats. The bed smoked and charred immediately, the wood growing black upon contact with the blade.
Not that Wu Ying spent much time considering that. One hand was on his sheathed blade, the other finding the hilt. He drew, twisting his body as he did so to speed up the unsheathing. The awkward angle he was in, along with the fact that he was mildly trapped by his bedding, meant he could not execute Dragon unsheathes its Claws properly. He could, however, push his chi down his blade.
Dragon’s Breath struck out in an arc, sword intent and chi projection mixing together as it flew through the dark of the night, cutting apart the bedpost and scarring the ceiling and wall. From the shadows, Wu Ying spotted the dark-clad body that dodged his attack with a leap and twist, even as moving shards of light flickered toward him.
His jian moved, parrying the glints of metal. He went through the defensive form Dragon paints the Sunset, then transitioned to Dragon dances through the Raindrops, his blade blocking the attacks. As the sharp metal was beaten aside with a tinkle, he saw each piece land on the bed, his bedding, and the walls, leaving a smoldering stain behind.
A last moment jerk of his head left Wu Ying barely dodging an attack, the steel dart passing by so close that he felt the wind of its passage. Realizing he could not stay defensive, Wu Ying fell farther back and kicked.
Bedding tore as he applied the full force of his cultivator’s strength to the material. A moment later, his feet connected with the bottom of his bed, flipping it upward and forward toward his attacker. Even as the bed flew, Wu Ying flipped himself back to his feet.
A surge of energy, a swing of his jian from the floor upward. He unleashed the full force of his attack, one that tore apart bed and mattress, sending a shower of feathers and wood splinters through the dark room. Sword before him, one hand using the remains of his bedding as an impromptu shield against further poison-tipped steel darts, Wu Ying edged forward.
Moonlight glittered through the windows, the room silent and shadowed. Torn bedding, shattered wooden slats, and crumbling ceiling stained the floor and air. Footsteps brushed against the floor as Wu Ying searched for his attacker in the darkness.
A lone window, one that Wu Ying knew had been closed when he slept, was open, swinging in the midnight breeze. Wu Ying edged toward the lamps, turning them on one by one as the inn woke up around him. Residents drew weapons, the proprietor sounded the alarm.
Too late.
For even as Wu Ying—gingerly—checked out the window, he could not spot any sign of his attacker. Only the destroyed room, the leftover metal darts, and the lingering scent of burnt, spoilt oil told of the dark sect’s most recent attack.
Chapter 22
Yu Kun hid his yawn behind a sleeve, though it did little to cut off the chain of yawns he set off with his companions. Wu Ying glared at his friend with bloodshot eyes, even as the early light of dawn streamed in and highlighted the breakfast spread set before them in Tou He’s room. The ex-monk was happily showing everyone the depths of his mouth.
“Please, stop that,” Wu Ying grumbled.
The ruckus in his room had brought the innkeeper, which had led to the innkeeper surveying the damage and having Wu Ying pay for the destroyed room. Right after Wu Ying finished negotiating the cost of fixing the room, the guards arrived and interrogated him. They had taken all of the steel darts with their poisonous tips as evidence before Wu Ying managed to shift his belongings to Tou He’s room. By the time they were done, it was early morning and the rather grumpy innkeeper had reluctantly provided their barebones breakfast.
“What?” Yu Kun said, breaking off a yawn with effort. “You’re the one who woke us all up.”
“By having someone try to kill me!”
“Exactly. Try. At least finish them off if you are going to wake us. Or die quietly.”
Tou He shook his head, pouring the mohawk-haired cultivator more tea. Yu Kun’s hair was slightly more fluffy today, not having been combed and styled properly.
“Amitabha, Yu Kun. Peace. The morning is too early for such words,” Tou He said.
Yu Kun bobbed an apology.
Tou He added, “It is worrying that Wu Ying was attac
ked. Especially at night. It was lucky he woke up in time to stop it.”
“Actually, I was awake already,” Wu Ying said. Then he wondered why he bothered to correct his friend. It was not important.
“Ah, well, lucky either way.”
“Yes. Assassinations and poisons.” Wu Ying made a face. “Add the smell—”
“Which the guards decided to ignore your comments on,” Yu Kun interjected.
“It’s obvious it was the dark sect,” Wu Ying said.
“Which they also decided to ignore you about.”
“Which is why we need to figure out why they attacked.” Wu Ying glared at Yu Kun to see if he would add anything else. The man smiled blearily and guzzled his tea. “And why now.”
“Opportunity?” Tou He offered.
“What kind of opportunity?” Wu Ying said, eliciting a shrug.
“Did you do anything different? Anything new?” Yu Kun asked.
Wu Ying shook his head at each statement.
“Speak to anyone?” Yu Kun asked.
Again, another shake of his head. Then Wu Ying paused.
“What?” Yu Kun prodded.
“I spoke with Xiang Wen yesterday.”
“Xiang Wen?” Tou He said.
“The pretty cultivator from the Whistling Iron Monkey sect. The one who dislikes Wu Ying,” Yu Kun offered.
“Oh, right!” Tou He nodded. “You suspected her before, because of her cultivation base.”
“Except she cleared it out. So it wouldn’t be her,” Wu Ying said, protesting slightly.
“Oh, you smelled her again, did you?” Yu Kun said.
“Yes. When we met. She’s clear. There’s no reason for her to attack me…”
“I sense hesitation,” Tou He said.
“Well, I might have told her about my sense of smell. Why I thought she was… you know.” Wu Ying made a face. “But it’s not as if it’s that rare…”
“Rare enough,” Yu Kun said. “Could she have sent for someone to attack you because you might smell them out?”
“What am I? A dog?” Wu Ying said.
“You’re the one who goes around sniffing people.”
Wu Ying snorted before grabbing a youtiao and splitting the fried bread sticks. He chewed on one, glaring at Yu Kun.
“Anyone else?” Tou He said, diverting the pair’s argument. “Perhaps someone or something suspicious?”
“Suspicious…” Wu Ying swallowed, thinking. He recalled one other recent encounter. But Wan Yan was a sect member. Spreading rumors, especially about an affair was…
“What?” Yu Kun said.
“It’s probably nothing.”
“What?”
Biting his lip, Wu Ying bought himself some time to think by dipping his youtiao in his porridge then chewing on the soaked bread. Then he tore it into bite-sized pieces and pushed the bread into his porridge. Yu Kun, on the other side of the table, made a face at Wu Ying’s dastardly use of the fried bread.
Eventually, after Wu Ying had a few more mouthfuls, he chose to answer. “Wan Yan. I spotted her talking with a young library attendant a few times. Ran into them again a few days ago.”
“Is he cute?” Yu Kun said, grinning.
Brows pulled together as Wu Ying considered the question. His serious consideration brought a bark of laughter from Yu Kun. Tou He snorted, bringing his bowl of porridge down from his lips.
“Romance is not an issue, is it?” Tou He said.
“Well, she is a noble.” Yu Kun stroked his beard. “They might not like her making eyes with another.”
“We are cultivators first though,” Tou He said.
“Tell that to Li Yao.” Wu Ying sighed, recalling his ex. It was impossible for nobles to break free if they were not in the Core stage. It was only then that his Elder Sister had managed to have some freedom. Before that, one was just another tool.
“Perhaps, but love cannot be explained or anticipated.” Tou He had a gentle smile, making Wu Ying stare at his friend consideringly. It was… interesting, how much his ex-monk friend knew of love.
Yu Kun looked rather skeptical still. When questioned, he was quick to answer. “She’s a typical over-privileged brat. Those kinds of people don’t see the rest of us as anything but pieces. To fall for a mere library attendant?” He snorted.
“What? You think their library Elder would make more sense?” Wu Ying teased.
“Yes.”
“Fine. We have two suspects. Did either of you notice anything unusual?” Wu Ying asked.
Tou He shook his head. No surprise there, the man had been busy cultivating all hours of the day to recover. Yu Kun, on the other hand, tapped his spoon on his bowl of porridge, brows drawing down in thought.
“You are recalling something?” Tou He said.
“There are more wandering cultivators and guards for new cultivators in the dockside inns than normal,” Yu Kun said slowly.
“How do you know that?” Wu Ying asked.
“It’s where all the good gambling is.” An unrepentant grin flashed.
“Right…” Wu Ying sighed. But this was not the time to discuss his friend’s vice. “How many?”
“Nothing that would have alarmed me before. Maybe a half dozen more than normal?”
“What’s normal?” Tou He asked.
“Say a dozen, give or take.”
“So we’re looking at maybe half a dozen dark sect members?” Wu Ying said.
“Better to guess high,” Tou He said. “A dozen might be closer.”
Wu Ying winced. That was high. In fact, it was higher than he could envision himself or his friends handling. Even a half dozen would be too many unless they managed to find them alone. And that was not including any they had snuck in under the guise of treatment.
Like Wan Yan or Xiang Wen. Though Wu Ying found himself reluctant to blame either. One for loyalty to his sect member, the other because… well, because she was pretty. Which, thinking about it, made both his reasons rather silly.
“We’ll need help.” Wu Ying sighed. “Tou He, the Honored Elder…”
“Is still looking into matters and has alerted others. But there have been no signs. Your initial bath time encounter did not help matters.”
Wu Ying grimaced.
Tou He added, “He is watching, but he cannot act until we have proof.”
“Can we at least warn him to be on guard? More on guard?”
Tou He nodded.
Wu Ying thanked his friend, only to break off as a yawn interrupted him, forcing him to cover his mouth. That set off the other two, and Wu Ying could not help but chuckle. While he waited for the pair to recover, he reviewed their options before sighing.
“All right, so I guess we need someone to check on the two suspects. And it’d be a bad idea for it to be me,” Wu Ying said, already envisioning the kind of comments Xiang Wen would level at him if she caught him. They had patched things up, but if she caught him again… “So I guess that leaves me with the taverns and you two with the ladies.”
“Maybe do not put it that way,” Tou He said. “Anyway, it is better for you to go to the docks. You might smell something we missed.”
Wu Ying rubbed his nose. He really was feeling like a dog. “Then I guess I should get going?” He was somewhat reluctant, wishing for a few more hours in bed. “They start early on the docks. I could talk to those there. Act as though I’m planning to leave.”
“Which we are. Were?” Yu Kun said, then shook his head to dismiss the question. “Many of the captains prefer the Overflowing Teapot, as do the wandering cultivators. It’s a little more expensive than the other restaurants, which keeps the rabble away.”
Wu Ying nodded thanks. That would work. Glancing down, Wu Ying was surprised to see his breakfast finished, eaten without thought while they talked. He considered asking for more, then remembered the glowering face of the innkeeper and changed his mind.
He would grab something on the way to the docks.
*
**
Morning on the water was always a busy time. A few late fishermen were on their way out, hoping to catch a bite before the fish grew too lazy to eat. Some others—mostly noblemen and cultivators or a few lazy, teenage merchant sons—arrived at this time too to take up their nets and rods. Wu Ying knew for them, it was more about the act than results.
For those who needed to make a living fishing, those were the ones returning, successful catches filling their boats as they rowed or sailed into dock. The wide river and deep shallows fed the city and sect, allowing fresh meals every day. Mixed among the fishing boats were a variety of merchant vessels, few in number but dominating the dock by their sheer size. The sect’s position in the river made it a useful stop-off, an easy place to supply while traveling to and from other cities along the watery passageway.
Wu Ying took all this in with a quick sweep of his eyes. The smell of fresh river water and the discarded refuse that flowed from the city’s sewers mixed together with the smell of packed humanity and fresh fish. A light breeze brushed against his skin as he tested the air for something new, something familiar and wrong.
And found nothing.
Not that he expected it to be so easy, but that would have been a nice change of pace. Instead, he took to walking the waterfront, speaking with the few lounging quartermasters, getting an idea of when the ships were arriving or leaving, and staying out of the way of the fishermen. There was a familiar camaraderie between fishermen and locals, one that allowed Wu Ying to easily spot strangers to the city.
Not that cultivators were hard to notice. They smelled and moved differently. Their auras were rarely controlled or hidden. The first cultivator ducked into an open restaurant and the next was seated by the dock, fishing. The first was but a Body cultivator on the precipice of breaking through to Energy Storage. The other though was an Energy Storage cultivator, one in the mid-range of strength.
Wu Ying paid a little attention to the fisherman, trying to gauge both his cultivation strengths and his demeanor. For all intents and purposes, the man seemed content to fish and contemplate the water. Not too surprising since he smelled of the sea, with touches of humid, dusty air after a sprinkle of rain on a hot day.