by Wong, Tao
Wu Ying nodded at his friend’s words. In truth, he could see that. As an Energy Storage cultivator, Zhong Shei was one of the strongest non-Sect cultivators. That would ensure he had numerous opportunities, both in the government and army if he so chose. If nothing else, if he managed to continue to progress his cultivation over the next few years, he could become the captain of the guard. And at worst, he would be a well-paid lieutenant with few responsibilities.
“To a good life then,” Wu Ying said, raising his glass and grinning.
“To a good life,” Zhong Shei cried out in return. They toasted and the hostesses quickly refilled their glasses once they’d finished quaffing the wine.
Wu Ying had to admit, he enjoyed the feminine attention. Yet he had more than once gently disengaged from the lady draping herself over him like her companion had on Zhong Shei. While he enjoyed the attention, it was only to a certain extent. A part of him could not help but compare the paid-for companionship with what he’d had with Li Yao. Compare and found it wanting.
If pleasant.
“What about you?” Zhong Shei asked. He barely slurred. Even if they were getting good liquor, and they’d consumed a sizeable portion, they were both strong cultivators. They might be tipsy, but they were not drunk. Yet. “Will you continue pursuing immortality?”
The question made the two women look at Wu Ying with further interest. He could see the envy in their looks, as well as the stark desire. The opportunity given to him was one few would have. And in that sense… “Yes. However far on the road I can walk, I will.”
“A tough journey,” Zhong Shei said. “And a studious one.”
Wu Ying let out a chuckle, remembering how little Zhong Shei had enjoyed practice or studying. Cultivation, while not necessarily aided by scholarly studies, was by itself a boring practice. And in the manuals and documentation of the Sect libraries, one might find hints of a better method or a reason for one’s current blockages. Never mind the fact that the simple act of studying could engender enlightenment.
Since cultivation was the slow process of achieving immortality by achieving and embodying a portion of reality—of the Dao—then enlightenment was the fastest way to achieving immortality. Any act that gave one greater understanding of the world might spark true inspiration. Though, Wu Ying had to admit, he’d found more of his enlightenment outside of the library than within the pages of books. But that, perhaps, was a hint of his own path.
“All journeys are tough if you are the one walking them,” Wu Ying said. “What we perceive to be hard can only be shaped by the paths we walked before.”
Zhong Shei tilted his head, contemplating Wu Ying’s drunken wisdom. He then laughed as he spoke. “No. I’m pretty sure I have the easier path.”
Zhong Shei leaned over to kiss the young lady, who deflected him with her fan and a tilted head. He laughed again as he readily accepted the tapped rebuke of the fan before he reached for his glass.
A loud meaty sound rose from below, a scream that was cut off, and muffled sobbing. The walls and floors in the restaurant were well-built, but it was impossible to hide the hubbub of other drinkers from the sensitive ears of the cultivators. They’d learned to tune it all out, to get on with life. So the raised voices, the boisterous shouts from nearby diners had been ignored.
But certain sounds drew attention immediately.
Zhong Shei let his hostess go, straightening. He frowned as he stood, a hand reaching for his sword that he’d laid aside. Wu Ying scrambled to his feet a moment later, following his friend. As he slipped his sword into his belt, Wu Ying smelled the ground copper scent of circulating chi as Zhong Shei churned his internal energy to cleanse himself of the drink. Wu Ying followed his example, driving away even the most minute trace of alcohol.
They were halfway down the stairs when they were met by one of the hosts. “Lieutenant Tong, we hate to bother you, but—”
“Which room?” Zhong Shei said.
“The Northern Crane.” The host bobbed his head low, pushing his thin body against the wall and out of the way. His pale blue and white robes were covered in a light sheen of sweat, but his eyes glowed with confidence as Zhong Shei tromped down the remainder of the stairs and turned down the wooden hallway.
Wu Ying followed his friend, a few steps behind. While the entire incident was not his problem, he followed along as much out of curiosity as desire to back up Zhong Shei. Not that Wu Ying expected any issues. After all, as a guard lieutenant, Zhong Shei should be used to dealing with noisy diners.
In short order, they came to the sliding doors that closed off the private room. A single majestic crane was skillfully painted on the door, in the midst of plucking a fish from the pond it rested in. Even in the brief glimpse Wu Ying managed to catch before Zhong Shei pushed the door aside, he noted the level of craftsmanship. But all musings of craft and culture were thrown aside when Wu Ying saw the scene within the private room.
Crouched near the door, her gown slightly torn in the shoulder region, her hand clutching a bruised and bloody face, lay a hostess. Standing above the woman, dressed in silken robes of grey and dark blue stood a towering man, cradling a wine cup in one hand. A cup that he used as a prop as he scolded the woman.
“Dare to say no! Know your place. You are but a lowly entertainer! Do you know who I…” the man trailed off as Zhong Shei strode into the room. The whiskers on his long, well-oiled mustache quivered as he stared at the guard, even as Wu Ying noted the food stain on the sleeve of his left robe. “Who are you? How dare you come in here?”
“City guard Lieutenant Tong,” Zhong Shei said, announcing himself. “I heard the commotion and came to ascertain the problem. And you are?”
Behind the standing cultivator, Wu Ying noted three other cultivators, each of them clad in the same grey and dark blue robes and accompanied by a hostess as well. They sat around the round wooden table, regarding Wu Ying and Zhong Shei while plates of food and pots of wine sat on the table, half-consumed. Beside each of them, sheathed swords and a single spear rested, all within easy reach.
Memory tugged at Wu Ying as he tried to recall which sect these robes belonged to. He’d received a number of lectures on the matter, but with dozens of sects in just their kingdom, remembering them all was a challenge. Especially since Wu Ying had had little interaction with them as yet. In either case, Wu Ying could tell from the sense of their auras and the smell of their chi that they were not simple Body Cleansing cultivators but Energy Storage cultivators.
“None of your business. Leave. This is nothing to concern a simple village guard,” the cultivator said. He glared at the woman, reaching for her hand to haul her to her feet as she tried to back away.
Even now, the hostess’s pupils were too large and unfocused, the side of her face purpling. The strike from the cultivator had done serious damage. A low whimper erupted from the injured hostess as the bearded cultivator reached for her.
Before the man completed the motion, Zhong Shei was there, gripping his arm. He held it still as he said, “I will decide what is my business in my city. And striking women is definitely my business.”
“Idiot.” The bearded cultivator tried to yank his arm and throw Zhong Shei at the same time. He failed, as he’d underestimated Zhong Shei’s strength. Instead, he found himself futilely struggling for a few seconds. “I am Ji Cheng, inner sect disciple of the Northern Lake Pearl!”
Ji Cheng next tried to pull his arm away, and Zhong Shei shoved him backward a little. Stumbling back, Ji Cheng tripped against a chair. A hand reached out to steady himself against the table, inadvertently ending up in a plate of food and staining his robes further.
“Look what you did! You will pay for my robes, you peasant,” Ji Cheng snarled, his face twisting.
Zhong Shei shifted his stance, setting himself, while the other cultivators stood, pushing their companions aside—mostly gently. The Northern Lake Pearl sect members all reached for their weapons. Behind, Wu Ying smelled the approac
h of the host, the acrid stink of his fear filling Wu Ying’s nose.
Seeing the entire confrontation devolve, Wu Ying sighed and stepped forward while raising his voice. “Northern Lake Pearl! I thought I knew where those robes were from.” Attention drawn to him, Wu Ying smoothly stepped to the side to ensure he allowed Zhong Shei space to clear his sword while also putting himself in front of the girl. “A pleasure to meet you all. Long Wu Ying, of the—”
“Verdant Green Waters Sect!” One of the previously silent cultivators gasped. “Senior!” He sketched a quick bow, followed by the other cultivators.
Wu Ying’s eyes crinkled slightly as he noted how the others bowed and echoed greetings. All but Ji Cheng, who still glared at Zhong Shei and, now, Wu Ying. Wu Ying might be younger than these inner sect cultivators in age, but by the politics of sect seniority and prestige, he was their senior as a fellow inner sect member.
“So what if he’s a Verdant Green Waters cultivator?” Ji Cheng sniffed. “Our problem has nothing to do with him. It is with this useless guard and woman.”
“I was willing to let you go, but I think it’s time for you to spend a night in the jail,” Zhong Shei replied. He placed a hand on his sword as he glared at Ji Cheng.
“Har! As if you could.” Ji Cheng reached back, grabbing his waiting sword sheath with one hand before reaching for the hilt with the other.
Future events flashed through Wu Ying’s mind in a blur. Even if Zhong Shei won this fight, the cultivator would be injured and angry. So would the sect. And if Zhong Shei didn’t win immediately, three other members would join in. Rather than let things devolve further, Wu Ying decided to act.
Two quick steps allowed him to cross the space separating him and Ji Cheng. As the opposing cultivator shifted, ready to block a grab at his sword or arm, Wu Ying struck. A simple palm strike, placed just below the man’s sternum. Rather than put all the energy into the attack to injure, Wu Ying kept pushing inward and upward. This launched his opponent away, his feet clipping the table and striking the plates as he flipped over backward. Ji Cheng body flew, sending drinks and food scattering before he smashed into the opposite wall. The impact shook the wall, sending dust and packed earth to the floor.
“How dare you not greet your Senior!” Wu Ying snapped, pulling himself up to his full height. “What kind of manners are they teaching you at your worthless sect?”
Inwardly, Wu Ying could only cringe at the words he leveled. But it was the best way he could think of to focus attention on himself. The other three cultivators bristled in anger at Wu Ying’s insults, but held off on taking action as Ji Cheng clambered to his feet.
“How dare you lay hands on me!” Ji Cheng said. “I’ll have your head for this.”
“Then meet me in a sparring ring,” Wu Ying said. “If you dare. Unless you are too afraid to fight a real cultivator, being only willing to strike defenseless mortals.” He clamped his mouth shut against the next insult that floated into his mind, deciding against plying additional insults on their sect. He wanted to divert attention and take the fight out from the dining room, not make it a giant brawl.
“Your challenge is accepted!” Ji Cheng said. “I will see you at the dueling ring.”
“Now?” Wu Ying said, cocking a single eyebrow. “Or do you need to clean up?” He let his gaze roam over the man’s body, his robes and body stained with foodstuff, in a dismissive sneer. “Unless you are happy for others to watch you be doubly humiliated.”
Ji Cheng grew rigid with fury, and one of the other cultivators hurried to speak for him. “In an hour! We will leave and see you at the central fighting ring in an hour.”
Wu Ying nodded, and Ji Cheng, his arm grabbed by one of his friends, was dragged out. The remaining cultivators scooped up their weapons, stalking by Wu Ying. The guardsman, on the other hand, stood to the side, grinning.
“Make sure to pay the proprietor!” Zhong Shei called, making the last cultivator freeze.
Rather than argue, he reached into his purse and tossed a tael at the host. Done, he stomped out with the rest of his group, leaving Wu Ying and Zhong Shei amid a group of thankful restaurant employees. A few heads had popped out to watch the proceedings, but seeing it was a matter between cultivators, had retreated. Mortals should not get involved in such matters.
“Well, now you’ve done it,” Zhong Shei said, shaking his head. “I’m surprised you managed to pull that off. Very haughty.”
Wu Ying grinned weakly, placing a hand surreptitiously on a chair to hold himself up. “I was just copying some nobles I knew.”
“Yin Xue?”
Wu Ying offered a nod.
Zhong Shei burst out laughing, while the restaurant employees offered weak smiles. “Let us hope you don’t lose too badly after all that grandstanding.”
Chapter 18
Once the initial shock was over, the host and hostesses were quick to lay on their thanks, explaining that such incidents were normally handled in-house. But with cultivators, their usual methods of placating and ejecting angry guests had not worked. After a quick assessment, they took the injured hostess away, sending her home in a palanquin while Zhong Shei and Wu Ying finished paying their bill. They both refused the offer to leave their bill on the house, knowing the hostesses who had joined them would lose out in that case.
Outside the restaurant, the pair found the road well-lit as the lanterns from other restaurants kept the sidewalk easily navigable. They strolled over to the main thoroughfare that led to the central fighting rings located just north of the magistrate’s house in the center of the city. Here, exhibition matches and the occasional public duel were handled.
In a society where everyone trained in martial arts, a public dueling ring was mandatory. Even Wu Ying’s village had a designated field where intractable matters of honor or prestige were dealt with. Of course, the field in his village was left unused by the villagers, the Elders and family heads easily heading over such matters in the small village.
As they walked, Zhong Shei kept shooting Wu Ying a look before looking away. This continued for blocks before Wu Ying finally said exasperatedly, “Just speak.”
“I could’ve taken him,” Zhong Shei said.
“Of course you could,” Wu Ying said. Even the initial struggle had told Wu Ying that much. While Zhong Shei might not have as many energy storage meridians open, he had progressed his body cultivation further. His strength was higher, and having spent time in the army, it was likely that Zhong Shei was a better fighter too. “But if you had fought, the others would have gotten involved. And then that nice restaurant would have been wrecked.”
Zhong Shei huffed. “Damn cultivators. Not you, of course.”
Wu Ying grinned.
“But all of these others. Idiot Magistrate, choosing to hold an auction. We are too small to deal with this kind of trouble,” Zhong Shei said.
“Too small?”
“We don’t have enough high-level cultivators. There only three Energy Storage guards in the city, not including the captain. And none of us are core cultivators. So far though, at least the core cultivators have been polite.”
Wu Ying’s jaw dropped a little as he realized the implications. “Then the auction materials being stored—”
“Are safe,” Zhong Shei reassured Wu Ying. “The auction house itself is being guarded by the Lim family auctioneers. It’s the rest of the city that is the problem.” The guardsman shook his head. “The auction can’t start fast enough, if you ask us.”
Wu Ying could see how Zhong Shei and the rest of the guards would have to tread a very fine line. They couldn’t let the cultivators, from sects or wandering, tread all over their dignity. Guardsmen were always outnumbered by the populace. Only the illusion of authority and the threat of punishment kept the civilian population in check. Cultivators were but a special subset of the population. One whose individual strength made them dangerous to cross, but when placed against the might of the kingdom bureaucracy, they were but a
nts.
“But I could have handled that better,” Zhong Shei said after a while, shaking his head. “I could have tried to calm matters. But when I saw Ah Mei on the ground, I lost my temper. To strike her…”
“I understand. Losing one’s temper like that, striking those below, there is no honor in that.” Wu Ying shook his head. It seemed Zhong Shei was much more familiar with the ladies here than he had believed initially. “Arrogance takes us all at times. It is too easy, as a cultivator, to forget that those beneath us are as important to the Heavens as we are. We walk the same roads, bask in the same sunlight, and drink from the same water.”
Zhong Shei cast a sideways glance at his friend. The guard’s lips curled up a little, but he forbore speaking on the topic. “Do you think you can beat him?”
“If you can, obviously so can I,” Wu Ying said the words confidently, almost teasing his friend.
Inwardly, Wu Ying had to admit he was not so certain. It was one thing to fight another unarmed but place a sword in the same hands and they could become a devil. Whatever the case, angry as either party might be, this was a friendly spar. There would be no deaths here, not on purpose. Neither party would dare overstep the bounds of honor, not with their sects overlooking the final results. And if he lost, well… Wu Ying had lost before. He would again.
When they reached the small town square that hosted the city’s fighting ring, Wu Ying found it empty and dark but for the reflected lights from nearby restaurants. The pair moved around the square, lighting the nearby lamps and brightening the square further. As they did, curious onlookers arrived, drawn by the light at first then by rumors of the upcoming duel. A battle between two cultivators in the main ring was bound to be good entertainment.
As Wu Ying stretched and settled his mind, Zhong Shei moved around the square, finding a pair of wandering guards and tasking them with dealing with the growing crowd. Once he was done, he returned to Wu Ying’s side to glower at the people about him.