by Wong, Tao
Some said that this too was part of the Dao, just the way the universe worked. Even the brightest light casts the darkest, deepest shadow. And where there was shadow, there were humans who would seek it out, searching for strength and their way to immortality.
“What happened?” Wu Ying said, then he realized the answer. “The purges.”
“Yes. It began with the Sects, with their own apothecarists at their beck and call. They sought out the corrupt within their own ranks, then spread the culling to the lands they controlled. Kings and nobles took part too when they realized the damage done to them and their families.” Fa Yuan’s face grew grim. “Many innocent apothecarists were falsely accused and killed. Even more were hounded out of the occupation when the Guild was created.” Wu Ying blinked at her words, and she offered him a thin-lipped smile. “Those who do not seek to bow to the bureaucracy of the masses will always be crushed under its yoke, if they do not hide their opposition.”
“The ox that will not pull in a straight line will be whipped until he does,” Wu Ying muttered.
“Yes. Or something less… peasant-like,” Fa Yuan replied, though the smile on her lips and the crinkles along her eyes showed that she was joking. “In any case, after the purges, the Guild rose in prominence. But since then, becoming an apothecarist has taken more time and skill, as well as resources. It’s why wandering apothecarists, ones not affiliated with Sects, have become a thing of the past. For the most part.”
Wu Ying nodded. Even he knew that those without the appropriate Guild seal could not sell their pills or potions or ply their trade in most kingdoms. No serious cultivator would use their wares and no merchant would buy them. Those found to be selling medicines from non-Guild sources were often censured, left without a regular supply, or in some cases, pressured in more direct manners.
“So do our apothecarist students have to take the exams too?” Wu Ying said with a frown.
“Of course. But they are only held once a year, with the location rotating between a set of kingdoms. That way the Guild can ensure there is no favoritism,” Fa Yuan replied. “We send our students out when it is viable, and they have reached a sufficient level. The cost of examinations is high, so we do not register them unless they pay the contribution points or reach a high enough level that their pills would bring a return on the open market.”
Wu Ying recalled how the vast majority of the pills made by the apothecarists in the Sect were for internal use. No need to be concerned about registration or Guild acknowledgement when everyone was using it internally. It was not as if Elder Wei or Tan would let them slack off in quality. And this way, even the lowest quality pill found residence.
“Do we have another option then?” Wu Ying asked. “If not Liu Tsong?”
“I’m exploring options and requesting help. The problem is that those apothecarists with the requisite skill are often booked many months ahead. And we”—she gestured to the map displayed on the table, numerous new flags placed on it. As they continued their research, they had continued to add potential locations where they could acquire the necessary materials—“do not yet know our final destination. Until then, we can only make inquiries.”
Wu Ying grimaced. “If that’s the case, and if the potency drops…”
“We should acquire the…” Fa Yuan searched through the notes on the table.
Wu Ying spoke from memory. “A Thrice-Enchanted Ice Jade storage box for the heart. Otherwise, a Fire Bark Encrusted storage box filled with Yang Water from the Nine Abyss Hot Springs.”
“Yes.” Fa Yuan made a face. “I don’t really know where we’d find either though…”
Wu Ying shrugged his shoulder, then seeing the expectant look on her face, sighed. “I’ll speak with the armorers tomorrow.”
Fa Yuan flashed Wu Ying a wide smile, and he rolled his eyes. Still, all this experience at setting up an expedition was quite an eye-opener. Even if he was not taking part in the recruiting of members.
Chapter 6
Late that night, Wu Ying walked the lamp-lit pathways, one hand holding a spirit lantern aloft. The moon was well past full, leaving the waning moon on the twenty-fourth day to provide its weak illumination. On the cobbled pathway, he spotted the occasional returning inner sect member, having finished their midnight assignations or, in a few unfortunate cases, assignments.
The leaves rustled in the late-night breeze that carried the smell of new greenery. Slivers of moonlight and the reflected light from his spirit lamp amplified the shadows along the mountain path. Even so, for all the stark beauty on offer, Wu Ying paid it no mind.
Instead, he turned over and over his musings on the Dao and that of the presence of the dark sects. It was clear that such sects were real. That their beliefs, while contemptible by common morality, had some truth to them. After all, there was a darker pantheon of immortals, those who were not demons, who were not guards, who lounged among the celestial hierarchy. They had their own residences, their own places of power. And though those immortals among the celestial bureaucracy and the demons were at war, it was impossible to deny that their beliefs must be part of the Dao.
Stories of the world above, the immortal battles that eventually filtered down to the earth below were all glimpses of what could be. That stories that these battles were waged, the fights between the demons below and the immortals above, were less common now did not mean they were any less true. And in all these stories, the darker hierarchy was as often the allies of the celestial empire as enemies.
As much as Wu Ying wanted to deny the truth, to deny the darker impulses within him, the dark sects were part of the Dao. Nature was cruel. Any who ever had watched a cat play with its prey, releasing the rat to run and catch it, dragging it back and batting it around before repeating the action could say as much. How many animals lay dying slowly from the venom of a snake, felt their bodies dissolve as spiders readied their meals? Even plants could be cruel, for the climbing ivy could kill a tree as easily as a woodcutter’s axe.
Nature was cruel, and so, the Dao was too. Yet in nature, animals were just creatures who dwelt not on reason nor morality in their actions. If they were cruel, that cruelty often had a place, a reason. The spider sucked upon dissolved flesh for food. The cat played with its prey to learn its nature. The ivy climbed for its own survival.
Humanity though, humanity could choose. In their choices, they could stray from the Dao. They could transact with demons for power, apply great cruelty and great kindness in equal order, without care for consequences. But where was the line? If the Dao encompassed everything, even the evil in man and nature, how could one then be not part of it?
If the Dao was the way, the true way, of what nature and the world should be, then how did one know when one strayed? Not right or wrong—because duality, the nature of creating boxes, of thinking and knowledge, strayed from the simple and encompassing nature of the Dao. If you judged an action to be evil or wrong or good, then such thinking was no longer of the Dao.
But if one did not judge, then how did one understand?
If the world was, in all its glory, in all its nightmares, a part of the Dao, then were not all men, were not all actions, part of it?
Wu Ying did not know. He did not grasp, could not grasp, the differences. The Dao was everything, but it was also only the right way. If one strayed from it, one walked the wrong path. But knowing the right path, knowing the Dao, was a journey.
And he was only eighteen.
This question, this answer, escaped even the most erudite of scholars and the wisest of sages. Mortal man cannot grasp the Dao in its entirety. Those who did were no longer mortal men, but a Sage in truth, an immortal. Mortal man could not grasp both the darkness and the light, hold them in his hand and yet offer no judgment of either.
And so, cultivators like Wu Ying only strove to understand a sliver of the Dao. Understand, grasp, and eventually immortalize it within their own selves. By doing so, they achieved immortality, becoming part of
the Dao, becoming part of the celestial bureaucracy. And if they were less than a Daoist Sage in their understanding of the world, they were more than mortals.
Wu Ying laughed, tilting his head up to the cold night sky, breathing in the fresh air. He laughed, for he knew that none of this mattered to him. Not yet. Not truly.
Perhaps there was a path to immortality, one that led through darker paths, that was part of the Dao. Perhaps these dark sects were part of the Dao, part of all that was, is, and could be. But it was a path that Wu Ying rejected. It was not for him to be cruel and callous, to set himself far above others and seek immortality not just selfishly but over the blood and bones of others. He could not stand aside and watch others be hurt. He could not help but judge the dark sects as evil and wrong for what they did.
Perhaps that meant that he would never be a Sage, never truly understand the Dao, never truly understand the heavens above, the hells below, and everything in between. But that was okay. After all, Wu Ying was just a peasant who had grown up digging dirt, planting rice, and squabbling with his parents.
He was no monster, no sage, no demon. He was just a man making his way through the paths of cultivation, seeking his own little slice of the Dao to embody.
Wu Ying exhaled. He turned his head down, taking in the worn cobblestones, the doors to his own residence. Briefly, he wondered how long he had been standing before his wooden doors, lost in thought. Then he chuckled again.
As he did so, he cast aside any doubts, any concerns as he closed one door to immortality. His steps, taking him into his own courtyard on his way to his rooms, paused. A foot hung in mid air, refusing to move as Wu Ying sensed the change.
For long moments, Wu Ying stood with one foot raised. His mind turned, his body thrumming with breathless anticipation. Then he moved. He dropped into a cross-legged position, hands positioned on either leg, thumb and forefinger touching as they rested on his knees. He breathed in and allowed the rush of chi to enter his body.
Enlightenment, as fickle as the wind, arrived. Enlightenment, seeking only an entrance, found him as he shut a door. Enlightenment arrived.
And with it, the approval of the heavens.
***
Wu Ying woke the next day, having collapsed asleep after breaking through another meridian. His dantian, normally drained of chi when he opened a new meridian, was nearly full still. The process of breaking through while showered by the benediction of the heavens was a different experience entirely.
As he stood, Wu Ying grimaced at the soiled clothing that stuck to his body, peeling from his skin with each movement. The filth from within his body had pushed outward as the blockages from his Energy Storage meridian cleared, coating him with their filth. It would need to be dealt with, but for now, Wu Ying had other matters to attend to.
First, he considered his energy levels and where he stood. He felt the pulse of energy in his newly cleared meridian, felt the way energy recharged him. Wu Ying could also tell that not only was he close to breaking through to another meridian, the one he had cleared last night was almost fully cleansed. He could not help but smile even as he walked toward the bathroom.
“My apologies, young Lord. The water in the bath has grown cold. I had expected that you would be awake earlier,” said Auntie Yi, the white-haired, mortal servant who took care of his daily tasks. Her presence as his servant, Wu Ying knew, was meant to be a subtle insult. She was, after all, the oldest living mortal servant among the inner sect. As such, she was considered unfit for more prestigious nobles within the Sect.
Wu Ying was, in fact, grateful for this subtle insult. Auntie Yi was a good cook, one who had many years of practice, and her many years of serving the Sect meant that she understood more of the history and the subtle interactions of the nobles and the cultivators, the Elders and the inner sect members than newer servants. Her presence, and her quiet coaching, had helped Wu Ying grasp many areas of his new life that he might have missed otherwise.
“No need to apologize,” Wu Ying said. “I can bathe cold.” He had before, more often than not. In the winter, cold baths were the only kind of baths available in his village.
After shooing her out of the way, Wu Ying stripped his clothing, leaving them in a hamper for Auntie Yi to clean later. In the meantime, he stepped into the raised circular wooden bathtub, grasping the soap beads set aside in their wooden container, and washed. Even if he was late for practice, he could not turn up filthy.
A short while later, Wu Ying climbed out of the bath, drying his hair with the laid-out towels. A flicker of annoyance and jealousy ran through him as he wished he had the ability to control the water. Those with the water aspect could easily dry themselves with the right chi exercise. He had to do it the hard way.
In fact, for all his studies, he had yet to learn many useful chi skills. He knew part of that was that he was hurrying along, desperate to catch up with his Seniors. His focus had entirely been on combat, Gathering skills, and apothecary. Even his cultivation exercises were focused on making him able to cultivate faster or more martial.
But chi skills were not just about cultivation. Qinggong skills allowed one to move faster, to run across water, bamboo, and even leaves blowing in the wind. They made journeying through the world easier. At the highest levels, one could even ride spirit swords, flying through the air with ease.
Certain types of Body Cultivation skills did more than just reinforce the body. They also increased the sensitivity of the body to the natural world. Gourmands were particularly focused on such skills, allowing them to truly savor the meals they searched for. Other skills allowed one to shield their body from falling rain, cleanse the blood, or even aid in the healing of others.
Chi was the living force of nature that which made all things one. In that sense, it was clear why cultivation exercises would be wider and more expansive than just combat exercises. Even if that was his own focus, even in Gathering, there were multiple minor skills that could be learned.
Flowing internal wood chi combined with a little bit of water chi could help promote growth in plants. Proper use of wood and fire chi might allow you to pluck certain plants and herbs that would not be viable otherwise. Metal chi on its own could shield one against the thorns of numerous plants. Even his own unaspected chi could be made to work with all those skills, even if it was at a much lower efficiency.
And while Wu Ying had picked up such techniques, he had yet to learn any true skills. Even from Elder Li. After all, his focus was on the understanding and grasp of the plants and their parts. In time, he knew, he would have to learn such skills. Learn to transmit his chi into the earth, especially for plants in the Saint and Immortal level.
But that was for later. For now, Wu Ying had a new meridian to test. Grinning, he slipped on a new pair of robes, then he hurried out, headed for the martial training grounds. Even if he hadn’t learned any useful utility skills, he still had martial ones. And perhaps he could win a few duels with his new improvements.
***
The training grounds of the martial specialists had changed. Not in the physical sense. It was still a large courtyard with multiple raised dueling platforms, some platforms with enchanted chi shields to protect bystanders from the fighters within and others just plain for Body Cleansing cultivators and less vigorous training. Looming buildings around the courtyard hosted additional indoor training grounds, along with changing rooms, a simple first aid room, storage sheds for the weapons, and an archery center. It was the largest and most expansive of the inner sect training grounds and one that was, mostly, staffed by the martial specialists.
No, the grounds hadn’t changed physically. It was the specialists themselves, the ones who filled the grounds from sunrise to sunset and sometimes afterward. There was now an edge, an intensity that had not been present before, to their training. There were also new faces—much younger new faces—among familiar ones. Those new faces were those who had risen from the outer sect to fill empty spots created by
their losses in the war.
The war, always on and off, had grown in intensity in the last two years. During the last recruiting session, nearly three dozen of the outer sect members had been introduced to the inner sect. Another dozen and a half, many of them wandering cultivators, had been added directly as well. More than two-thirds of the new inner sect members had gone on to join the martial specialists, all of them receiving intense, focused training by their Seniors and Elders.
In one of the sandy pits, Wu Ying watched with slight interest as a trio of cultivators were thrown around, grappled and locked down by a familiar Elder. The darker-skinned, shorter Elder Hsu was one of the many new volunteers training the new martial specialists. Of course, his unarmed Snail grappling style was well-hated by all who’d had their faces squashed by his impressive—and hairy—bare chest.
Turning aside before Elder Hsu spotted his regard, Wu Ying made his way to the sparring rings. Elevated off the ground, the circular dueling rings were filled with energetic martial cultivators. Many of the new inductees from the outer sect trained in the unprotected dueling rings, practicing martial forms that didn’t see much energy projection. On the other hand, the wandering cultivators and older martial specialists trained in the protected sparring rings.
Wu Ying slowed as he neared the hidden demarcation splitting the sparring rings by type, eyeing the attendees. Of course, his normal victim—friend—Tou Hei was not around as he was out on another mission as per his Master’s behest. The same could be said for Li Yao. Yin Xue was with the vast majority of the martial specialists—serving in the armies. Ever since his return, Yin Xue’s cultivation had progressed at an astounding speed, making full use of his family’s cultivation method during the quiet winter months. These days, he was considered one of the strongest non-martial specialists in the inner sect. His progress had seen him forced to take part in the war directly, as he sought to stabilize his cultivation through real world experience and increase his sect contribution.