by Tao Wong
Wu Ying chuckled and used more force to pull out the stuck weapon. The pair marveled at the weapon. If nothing else, they could safely say that Ji Ang had had good taste in jians. This one was slightly longer the weapon Wu Ying wielded, and a touch thinner too. Instead of the common diamond-shaped edges, the sword was actually made with an octagonal-edged pattern to increase its thickness and strength. All across the blade, a waterfall pattern could be seen—the mark of a highly skilled forging process.
“Wǒ kào[26].”
Wu Ying could only nod as he got a good look at the sword. He knew, from the fight, that the weapon was good—amazing even. But this, this was far above what he had expected. This was the kind of weapon that sat behind the counter, out of reach of the grubby hands looking to grasp it. This was the kind of weapon that could start fights—or end them.
Wu Ying looked back to where the sailors moved around on the deck, and he quickly slid the sword into the scabbard and made the entire thing disappear. At first Zhong Shei was startled, but seeing the worried look in Wu Ying’s eyes as he stared at the others, he nodded.
“I’m tired. I want to sleep in some place quiet. How about you?” Zhong Shei said artfully.
“A good idea.”
The pair ambled down the stairs, doing their best to look inconspicuous until they reached their cabins. Zhong Shei gestured to his, and Wu Ying nodded. Inside the tiny room, Zhong Shei held up a hand, quickly inspecting the passageway before he slid the door shut firmly and nodded.
Once again, the sword made an appearance, and the pair carefully inspected and marveled over it. In silence, the pair pored over the sword, checking its fittings and the scabbard itself. Yet no matter how they looked, the sword was as expensive and lethal as it seemed on first viewing. With their inexperienced eyes, they could not find a single flaw. Wu Ying pointed at a small mark near the handle on the blade, drawing Zhong Shei’s attention to it.
“I don’t recognize it,” Zhong Shei said.
“Neither do I,” Wu Ying agreed with a sigh, the worm of dread that had coiled around his intestines at his first realisation of what they held had grown even bigger, fed by the nightmares of what-if. “I was hoping it was something you’d seen in the city.”
“I never paid attention,” Zhong Shei admitted. “But I don’t think it’s anyone in town. No one does this level of work. Even I’d know that.”
“So what do we do?” Wu Ying said. “This isn’t something Ji Ang would just have. He must have taken it off someone. Someone important.”
“Well, no one knows we have it.” At Wu Ying’s flat, incredulous look, Zhong Shei snorted. “Fine. We’re the best suspects. But I don’t want to give this up…”
“Neither do I,” Wu Ying said then blinked, realizing another problem.
Zhong Shei realized it at the same time, and the pair stared at each other in concern. There was only one jian after all—and both of them desired the weapon.
The standoff was broken by Zhong Shei, who reached out with two fingers and pushed the sword toward Wu Ying. “You killed him. It’s yours.”
“I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t distracted him. It was your idea to go in too. And you got injured,” Wu Ying said and pushed it back.
“I can’t take it. It’s too much,” Zhong Shei said, shaking his head.
“You think I can? That sword is worth more than the entire harvest of my family’s farm since I was born! I couldn’t even sleep holding on to that.”
“You really have messed up expectations of the kind of life those richer than you have,” Zhong Shei said, shaking his head and tapping on the sheathed blade. “This is so far out of my experience that I might as well be you.”
“We’re both impressed. But you should still take it. I already took the money. You deserve something from him.” As Zhong Shei opened his mouth to protest, Wu Ying continued. “And whatever you think, I’m still just a peasant. An outer sect member peasant, but a peasant. If the owner—or whoever wants the sword—comes, you’ll have a better chance of talking them down from killing you outright.”
“You think I should give it to them?” Zhong Shei said, his eyes widening.
“If it’s between your life and the sword? Definitely.”
Wu Ying’s eyes widened when Zhong Shei looked like he actually had to think about it. As much as the guardsman thought their differences were not that great, at times like this, Wu Ying knew the differences were as large as heaven and earth. No farmer would value a thing over his life. The weather, the government, the army—they all took from the common people every day. But so long as their lives and their dignity were intact, everything else could be recovered.
“Maybe I should keep this,” Wu Ying said as he saw Zhong Shei’s continued reluctance to do the smart thing.
“No.” Zhong Shei snatched the sword, making it disappear into his storage ring. “I’ll give it up. I promise. But I’ll take it.”
“Good.” Wu Ying could not help but feel a little heartache at giving the weapon away. But at his strength, a weapon of that value was more calamity than fortune. He did not have the strength to wield it, not in public. And if he could not use it, then what was the point? A horse left to graze all year round was not a horse; it was a useless egg. “Good. I’ll be going to cultivate now.”
“I will too,” Zhong Shei said, seemingly motivated by Wu Ying’s words. When Wu Ying had exited the room, just before closing the door, Zhong Shei called, “Thank you. Brother.”
Wu Ying looked back at Zhong Shei and nodded. The motion made Zhong Shei grin before he closed the door, leaving Wu Ying to head into his room to cultivate. In a corner of his mind, Wu Ying wondered if Zhong Shei would actually cultivate.
Probably. Nearly dying from being too lazy had a great motivational effect. Wryly smiling, Wu Ying took a seat on his bed and closed his eyes.
Very motivational.
Chapter 19
“Is this it? The Verdant Green Waters Sect?” Zhong Shei asked Wu Ying.
Wu Ying almost rolled his eyes but finally deigned to nod. As if there was anywhere else for the boat to go, never mind the fact that Zhong Shei had asked that question but a few hours ago.
Still, Wu Ying pushed away the irritation. It had little to do with Zhong Shei and mostly revolved around his own uncertainty. He had been away so long—nearly a month and a half after all the delays, waits, and fights. And even if the mission had no stated time limit, Wu Ying could not help but remember that Elder Mo had not exactly assigned the entire quest with the purpose of being fair.
“Glad to be home?” Zhong Shei asked.
“This isn’t my home,” Wu Ying corrected the man automatically. “But it’ll be good to have the mission completed.” Wu Ying absently patted the bag on his back. Rather than flaunt his newfound wealth, Wu Ying had moved the bottles and his everyday wear into the bag for now. The rest of the precious gifts—expensive clothing, wines, a couple of decent jian, and a dao—and the majority of his funds sat in his storage ring. “What are your plans after your delivery?”
“Well, I was hoping to see the sect a bit. I hear the sect women are to die for.”
Wu Ying rolled his eyes at his lustful friend. The movement made his gaze catch on a nearby ship unloading some familiar bags. His lips quirking, Wu Ying turned to Zhong Shei as he asked innocently, “Hey. You wanted to know what I did at the sect, right?”
“Of course. But you told me it was very boring.”
“Sure, sure. But why don’t I show you? That way you can experience a little of the life of an outer sect member.”
“Is that allowed? I do not want to cause trouble.”
“No trouble, no trouble. We’ll call it part of your experiential training.”
“If you say so.”
Wu Ying was very proud of himself that he did not cackle there and then.
“You. Are. More. Despicable. Than Ji Ang,” Zhong Shei panted as they climbed the mountain.
“Oh, come o
n. That’s only three sacks!” Wu Ying said as he bounded ahead of Zhong Shei, four sacks and Wu Ying’s own bag on his shoulders. “This is a light run.”
“You huài dàn[27].”
Zhong Shei fell silent as he pushed himself to follow Wu Ying. Over the last few weeks, the pair had worked hard on practicing to pass the time. Even now, Zhong Shei felt the churning morass of chi in his dantian ready to break out into his meridians. After being stuck for so long at level eight, he was ready to open a new meridian. It was due to all that training that Zhong Shei found the strength to keep up with Wu Ying, who bounded up the steps like a mountain goat.
Though the huài dàn could at least sweat a little.
“Elder Lu,” Wu Ying greeted the gatekeeper when the pair finally made their way up the mountain. He bowed low to the Elder while keeping the bags on his back, balancing the entire affair and himself perfectly.
Behind him, Zhong Shei had collapsed on his knees and was breathing deeply, sucking in thin air.
“You’ve been practicing the Aura Strengthening technique,” Elder Lu said with approval. “And improved your cultivation too.”
“Not as well as I should have,” Wu Ying said as he straightened, a trace of disappointment in his voice. He had hoped to keep the increase in his cultivation secret for a time.
“You are still leaking at your kidney eight, heart eleven…” Elder Lu proceeded to list out the rest of Wu Ying’s failings in his aura.
Quickly, Wu Ying memorized the points, even going so far as patching a couple. Immediately, he felt the membrane that kept his aura contained strengthening.
Elder Lu looked at the recovered Zhong Shei. “And who is this?”
“This is Tung Zhong Shei, Elder Lu. He was sent to safeguard your wine jar,” Wu Ying said.
“Junior Tung greets Elder Lu,” Zhong Shei said as he stood and bowed low. He then stepped forward and twitched his hands, making the wine jar appear as he offered the gift to Xi Qi. “My uncle sends his greeting and a letter. He also asked that you consider sending a letter next time, instead of a sect member.”
Xi Qi waved in dismissal of the last portion, taking the letter and wine jar. A moment later, he had the wine jar stored and the letter open, the crease between his eyebrows deepening as he read. Finally, he closed the letter and looked at Zhong Shei. “You may enter the sect. Understand that you are a guest. Wu Ying, take him to the entrance hall. Tell them I have authorized his stay as a guest.”
“Yes, Elder,” Wu Ying said, bowing again.
Taking the dismissal, Wu Ying steered the pair to the kitchen, where they deposited their load. Wu Ying smiled a little, even knowing that he was unlikely to get any contribution points for this, not having reported in yet. Watching Zhong Shei pant up the hill was gift enough.
“Come, let’s get you settled. Then I should turn in this assignment,” Wu Ying said. Better to get his friend settled immediately—it was unlikely that Zhong Shei would be allowed into the deeper regions of the sect.
Luckily for Wu Ying, once Zhong Shei had been introduced as a guest, the attendants at the hall were more than happy to take over. The pair made arrangements to meet up for dinner later that day before Wu Ying broke off, headed for his room. In it, he set aside everything but the wine jars, which he kept in his bag, and took the time to wash himself of the dirt and sweat of traveling. Luckily, he had an extra pair of sect robes, allowing Wu Ying to dress himself appropriately.
Dressed and cleaned, Wu Ying was as ready to deal with Elder Mo as he ever would be. The administrative hall itself was the usual hub of busyness, sect members flowing in and out of the building. As an outer sect member, Wu Ying took his place in the long line that served them and waited patiently for his turn. When it finally came, he stepped forward while drawing forth the assignment slip, swallowing the dry nervousness in his throat.
“Junior Long Wu Ying completing his assignment,” Wu Ying said firmly. “I have the wine jars here.”
“Wu Ying?” The attendant frowned, obviously recognizing the name from somewhere. After a moment, his eyes widened and he looked at Wu Ying more closely, as if he was seeing a two-headed monster. “Please hold. I must have a Senior verify the wine. Please place them on the table in the meantime.”
As the attendant scurried away, Wu Ying sighed. Obviously it would not be so easy. Wu Ying quietly pulled the jars out of the bag, setting them aside and checking them once again for cracks. Relieved to see that everything was still fine, Wu Ying stepped back and waited. He did not have to wait long before Elder Mo himself came striding out, hands behind his back.
“You finally came back. And you claim that you have brought the wine?” Elder Mo said with a sniff. “Even though the sale would have been completed long ago and all the jars were taken up by others. Do you think we are fools?”
“No, Elder,” Wu Ying said, bowing low. “These really are the jars of plum wine.”
Elder Mo glared before he strode forward and looked at the wine jars. His eyes swept over them for a moment, stopping on the labels and the seals before he picked up one. He frowned, inspecting the jar before placing it down with a light thump.
“Well, the forgeries are quite good. But there is only one way to tell.” Elder Mo gestured to the waiting original attendant. “Bring a cup.”
Once again, Wu Ying waited as the attendant left his post.
Elder Mo, on the other hand, fixed Wu Ying with his gaze. “Failing an assignment is shameful and will see you banished. But attempting to trick the assignment hall will see your cultivation crippled. Do you still dare say that these are Tung family plum wine?”
“I do, Elder,” Wu Ying said.
Once again, Wu Ying felt the gazes of the sect members locking onto him and the Elder, happy to have some entertainment to lighten up their lives. Elder Mo snorted and left the conversation at that until the attendant arrived.
As the Elder took the proffered cup and reached for the jar, Wu Ying decided to speak up again. “Elder, if the jar is opened by you and it is the plum wine, I will not be able to complete my mission. You have not accepted them as yet.”
“You need not worry about that. If this is the plum blossom wine, I will bear the consequences of opening it,” Elder Mo said dismissively. With a flick of his finger, he popped open the cork. The moment he did so, the enticing aroma of the plum blossom wine washed through the hall. Along with the smell came the flood of chi the wine had contained, awakening the cultivators senses and expanding their senses.
“Good wine.”
“This smell reminds me of plums and spring.”
“Very good wine.”
“Could it be the real thing?”
“Impossible. That assignment has been there for two years already. Even getting into the merchant’s hall is hard. All the previous assignees were beaten up by the other buyers’ people when they tried to get in.”
“So that’s why Elder Mo assigned it to him.”
The hubbub of conversation behind Wu Ying enlightened the cultivator. A touch late, Wu Ying mused, but at least he now understood things better. And he’d thought the entire hindrance was Ji Ang and the timing. It seemed there were even more hidden traps.
Finally extracting himself from the surprise that the smell had brought upon him, Elder Mo poured the wine into the cup. Still, his actions had a little hesitation now as the Elder frowned at the wine. For an Elder like him, it was as simple as breathing to grasp the fact that the wine before him was no simple libation. It was a masterful work, one that layered multiple scents.
Elder Mo brought the full cup to his face, swirling it and releasing the aroma near his nose. His eyes narrowed again as the unmistakeable smell of plum blossoms filled the room, doubly confirming his initial impression. Hesitating no longer, the Elder tossed the wine into his mouth and froze. When he finally unfroze, he smacked the cup down with force and exhaled a breath, one that brought with it a flow of turbid chi.
“Good wine. Very good wine!” E
lder Mo said, pouring another cup.
“Then I have completed the assignment?” Wu Ying said, relief flowing through him. But that relief was dashed by the next pronouncement.
“Good wine. But it’s not the Tung family plum blossom wine. This is too good.” Elder Mo sipped on the wine more carefully now. “Their wine has never been this good.”
“Elder Mo—”
Elder Mo sipped on the cup as he stared at Wu Ying. Tapping his chin, he offered magnanimously, “Tell me where you got this wine and I’ll make the crippling quick.”
“This is Tung plum blossom wine. I got it directly from the winemaker himself.” A slight pause, then Wu Ying added, “Well, from his storeroom via his nephew. But Uncle Tang saw it all.”
“Really. The kind of stories children will make up,” Elder Mo said, shaking his head. With a flick of his fingers, Wu Ying’s feet were swept out from under him as a wave of force took him to his knees. “Kowtow[28] and beg for forgiveness for making up such lies.”
Wu Ying’s chest burned with anger as he struggled to his feet with numb legs. Elder Mo gestured again and Wu Ying slammed into the floor, catching himself with one hand while the Elder tsked. All around, conversations ceased as they watched Wu Ying being disciplined.
“You dare to continue this farce? You do not know how high are the heavens, do you?”
“I have done nothing wrong,” Wu Ying said as he tried to force himself onto his feet. Yet he found it impossible as a formless pressure pushed down on his body.
Those nearby felt it too, the use of chi pressuring them all. Wu Ying struggled to keep his body upright, mostly via stubborn will, as he felt his muscles strain and bones creak under the pressure. As Elder Mo’s face darkened further, a light cough broke the deepening silence in the admission hall. The sect members blinked and turned their heads to be greeted by the sight of a younger Elder with dark hair and a light smile.
“Elder Cheng!” Wu Ying gasped in surprise at seeing his sponsor for the first time in months. For a second, hope flared in his chest—then he recalled Liu Tsong’s comment. There was no way Elder Cheng was there to save him.