Beware Of Chicken

The sun was getting lower in the sky, the sky reflecting the colors of dusk. Chen Yang rose, looking around at the streets. They were certainly less messy now. A lot of the debris had been cleaned up though the roads were still in pretty bad shape. They looked ripped up with piles of stone beside them.

He grimaced at the amount of work that still needed to be done. Last night, in the heat of the moment, it hadn't seemed too bad. But in the light of day after it was all over…he had seen how fast the mortals could work. It would have taken them months to clean everything up.

He turned away from the road, and looked back at his sign. Yes, the mortal was right. His calligraphy was great. Ai had cut the piece of wood he had written on for him, and now, all who looked upon this sign would surely be drawn into the bakery!

The man could boast for generations that The Young Master of the Framed Sun Sect had painted the sign above his door! Maybe he would do more. The Framed Sun Sect’s main compound was perhaps a day’s journey away, on another hill, so that they could see the entirety of the mountain. There was a little village quite close, and he did enjoy eating at the one noodle shop. Madame Fang’s was delicious. Maybe he’d do a sign there too, just to show his appreciation—

“So this is what you all have been up to. Hmm. Acceptable characters, disciple. You’ve been practising.”

Yang flinched, as his father’s voice echoed from behind him. He’d been so engrossed in his work that he hadn’t noticed the Elders once more stalking the streets, their faces severe.

Yang swallowed as his father gazed at him. His fellow disciples shuffled their feet, pausing in their sawing and hammering. One carefully put down a mortal he had been holding up. His father examined the house they had rebuilt. Yang clearly remembered his father once telling him to never lower himself to a mortal’s level. That they were weak enough as it was, without the ridicule from other sects. Yang glanced anywhere but his father’s eyes. He could see others waiting for the rebuke.

Instead, there was a simple command.

“Continue,” his father decreed.

“Wha—?” Chen Yang asked, mouth open in shock.

“You have been given a task, continue it.” His father repeated himself, walking closer to their building material. “In fact, what wood is this?”

His father picked up one of the planks, flipping it over in his hands like it was something he had never seen before. He looked to the startled mortal who had been stacking the planks.

“It's… uh, well, what we used before, Master Cultivator,” the mortal trailed off.

Yang’s father pushed his Qi into it and looked at it from all sides. “It's warped. There are defects and it wasn’t dried properly,” his father said after he finished examining it. The man winced.

“Good wood is expensive, Master Cultivator,” the mortal ventured.

“Expensive, you say?” the Master of the Framed Sun Sect asked. He pondered the wood, then smiled brilliantly. “Well, that's fine. Son! Get only the best for this mortal! Price is no object!”

His command echoed through the streets. Yang saw several other Elders stroking their beards, more than a few nodding heads in agreement.

Guizhong’s jaw dropped.

“Yes, indeed. We shall rebuild it better, not merely as it was. And we shall repair the most, out of any sect in the city. The tournament was lost to us, but now, we have another prize!” his father declared.

“Thank you, Master Cultivator!” The mortal shouted, immediately bowing. “You’re too kind, Master Cultivator!”

Orders were given, and in surprise, several more mortals stopped what they were doing to watch.

But they started it. They pulled down some of the other pieces of wood and set about examining the stone while his father looked on.

Yang, confused, leaned in. “Father… why?” he asked.

The man’s smile widened a bit and he winked at Yang. “We aren’t paying for it. The Shrouded Mountain Sect is. It's a bit petty to demand recompense in such a way, but mortal building materials aren’t that expensive.”

Yang’s eyes widened at his father’s wink. The man looked back down at the street, where Master Rou was accepting a drink of water from a mortal girl. She was tiny, with brown hair and eyes. The most average mortal one could see, really. Master Rou accepted the drink with a grin, thanking her for her generosity.

The Master of the Framed Sun Sect considered Master Rou, then turned to the pile of logs.

He picked up one of the hammers and tested its weight before turning his gaze to the house consideringly, almost like he was about to join them… before he put down the hammer again and instead went to check on what his other disciples were doing.

The day passed, dusk turning to night as they toiled.

On Yang’s last trip of the day to get some wood, he passed by Master Rou. Yang stopped and watched the strange Expert. He was crouched beside a little girl, holding up a single nail. The girl had a hammer in her hands, though with how small she was it looked like she was trying to wield one of the Hermetic Iron Sect’s warhammers.

“The last one and then I’ve kept my promise. A shop in a day.” He said to her with a grin.

The little girl smiled up at him. “And I can hammer the last nail in!?” she said eagerly.

“‘Course you can, kiddo. Remember what I showed you!”

The little girl climbed a ladder. Her father watched, a bit worried, while Master Rou held on to one end.

Yang watched a slight smile on his face as she carefully worked her way into position. She took up her hammer and aimed carefully, tongue stuck out from between her teeth. She swung and missed. She dropped the nail. Master Rou just handed her up another. It took twenty strikes. Twenty, tiny strikes to hammer it in while Master Rou waited patiently.

When she had finally succeeded at her task and climbed down. Master Rou raised the girl upon his shoulders and praised her. She giggled before running with abandon to her waiting mother. Her mortal father grinned and bowed to Master Jin.

“Good practice. My own is going to be coming soon,” he confided in the mortal with a little smile.

The man, who Yang recalled had been so lost and despondent in the morning, laughed and offered congratulations.

Yang took it all in before he shook himself, darting off to finish his own project. If a man like Master Rou was doing that… well. Was it really lowering yourself?

And so the first day passed.

They returned, bright and early, the next day.

===================================

How much did it change you?

The sun had set. Lanterns twinkled with light, shining like Flamebeetles. The smells of food and drink were fading, a supper freshly finished. Voices carried on the wind. The day was finally winding down, a gasp of tension released after the terror of the night and the sudden labours of the day.

Cai Xi Kong sat upon the roof of his manor, observing the stars. It was a habit of his, to climb up on something tall whenever he needed to find peace. A habit his daughter shared. He took a sip of tea, a fine blend from Yellow Rock Plateau, and glanced down at the guest house. He heard laughter and bright noise rising up from within. Master Rou had joined Xiulan and the other students in the guest house. A great honour, but one he didn’t know how to approach. Xi Kong had, of course, welcomed the man, making available for him the finest rooms as the most honoured guest he had ever received. If Master Rou had demanded Xi Kong’s own bed, it would have been given over without hesitation.

Instead, the man had simply said he would sleep in the guest room on the floor.

Who was Xi Kong to deny the man? He had no clue what to make of Master Rou. Peerless expert one moment, and mortal man the next. Stern commander one instant…

Xi Kong glanced down at the sound of a loud joyous laugh from the guest house. He looked in through the open window.

A bright happy smile adorned Master Rou’s face, howling with laughter at something the man known as Rags and Yun Ren were doing.

Master Rou clapped Loud Boy on the back, nodding encouragingly at the unfortunate and whispering something in his ear.

He observed Liu Xianghua, daughter of the Misty Lake Sect, approaching him with her brother at her side. Both made to bow.

Master Rou placed his hand on Liu Xianghua’s shoulder mid bow and pushed her upright, shaking his head. Gou Ren waggled his finger at her, and Xi Kong heard him say “I told you he’d say that!”

The woman appeared stunned… and then tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as she this time completed the bow. “This Liu Xianghua will repay Master Jin and Senior Sister a hundred—no, a thousandfold!” she thundered, her eyes blazing as she brought her fist up to the sky.

The man just smiled at her as Tigu draped herself over his shoulders.

Xi Kong carefully kept his gaze away from the Profound Level chicken— no, Spirit Beast. He had nearly spat blood when the creature had introduced itself as Master Rou’s disciple. The fact that his daughter called him Senior Brother had required a stiff drink.

Xi Kong shook his head. He would have to talk to the Spirit Beast soon and take its measure.

His thoughts tonight returned to focus not on the cultivator below or his strange family but on his daughter’s smile.

He had no idea his daughter could smile like that.

How she could smile after what had happened to her?

Xiulan sat in front of him, a look of serenity on her face. She sipped her tea even as Xi Kong paced throughout the room, agitation pouring off him.

The third stage of the Initiate’s Realm. He felt his heart ache to know she was reduced so far. He wanted to rage. To scream. But he did not. He could not. Not when his daughter stared up it him with that look.

She looked at peace. Like her mother before she went on her journey. Before Liusei left and never returned.

That soft little smile.

“It was a worthy sacrifice,” she said simply.

There was another shout, and Xi Kong came back to the present.

Master Rou slung an arm around Xiulan’s shoulder and pulled her into a half hug as she laughed, looking more at peace than he had seen her in years.

Pride warred with shame. Xi Kong’s shoulders slumped slightly. How fast she grew without him and the sect. How fast she had grown, listening to the teachings of another. He wished he had been of more help to her. And right now… he didn’t think she needed his aid.

A cultivator faced the Heavens alone. The mantra that had been pounded into his head by his father.

He looked down again at the laughter of the younger generation and pondered the wisdom of those words, before he sighed and downed the rest of his tea.

It was cold.

===================================

How can I use this?

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with us, Master Jin,” Shan Daiyu, the Mistress of the Azure Jade Trading Company said with a graceful bow, hiding her face behind a fan with bowing willows on it, signifying, to the language of the courts, peace and contentment.

Two things she was certainly not feeling right now, but the game had to be played.

The cultivator smiled at them and nodded. “Sorry about the circumstances, and for postponing the meeting,” the man said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

The thing that struck her the most as she walked into the meeting was how young Rou Jin looked. With his freckled face and tanned skin he looked like one of the boys who did the heavy lifting on caravans. His smile reminded her not so much of the cultivators she knew but of her grandson, boyish and embarrassed after making a mess she would have to clean up.

This boy was taking responsibility for everything that had happened.

It was hard to reconcile that with the man who could bring to heel every elder in the province. A man who could bring to heel the Shrouded Mountain Sect. To have a disciple of that very Sect, who could walk the breadth of the Azure Hills with impunity, bowing his head and acting like a loyal dog at his command. He should be nothing less than a cunning power, yet he stared back at her with honest sincerity in his eyes.

“Think nothing of it, Master Jin,” her husband said. “We are at your disposal.”

Any other man, even a cultivator would have at least gotten some small manner of rebuke for wasting their time.

The cultivator nodded and sipped his tea. “Still, it was rude of me,” he said, giving them face.

“How is the reconstruction going, Master Jin?” her husband asked. “We’ve had some reports, but I would be honored to hear your opinion on it.”

Her husband easily distracted him, smiling attentively and nodding along as Master Rou spoke eagerly of a shop he had finished repairing

Shan Daiyu carefully studied the new variable in front of her.

For fifty years she and her husband toiled, building the power and influence of the Azure Jade Trading Company.

She had braved Wreckerballs, like the legendary Road Emperor, Blaze Bears that torched entire caravans, and had once survived two venom serpents spewing their toxic mist into the air. Hail, landslides, and scorching heat. Cantankerous cultivators, greedy nobles, the corrupt and the banal. She had risen above it all.

She was the one who began the great auction. Drawing from every corner of the Azure Hills those who could afford the rare goods she braved danger to bring. For fifty years she had hosted those auctions and events, carefully and politely managing to navigate the twists and turns of being a beautiful morsel in a den full of tigers. She had learned to read the currents and shifts in the powers that walked the Azure Hills. To walk with nobles, cultivators and mortals alike.

She had built an empire. A small one perhaps, but it was hers.

But she was getting old. Both she and her husband were getting old and weak. She would not go without leaving a legacy that would last for generations beyond her. Shan Daiyu sought out something to put a stamp on the world. One last hurrah. One last chance to forge a legacy was sitting on her shoulders. One last chance to provide for her family, to boost the Azure Jade Trading Company to heights unseen before the inevitable end to a mortal's life.

And then finally, a gift from the heavens, little Bo had come down from the north with that syrup of his. A passing novelty at first. Until the man who sold him the syrup came down to Pale Moon Lake City with three hundred bags of Gold Grade rice.

Master Jin was the answer. The answer to the Company's biggest hurdle, breaking out of the Azure Hills and into the wider world. A goal Daiyu had worked for decades to accomplish. They need enormous capital and a surge of new connections to accomplish such a feat. They had already done price analysis, and it would have taken at least eight more years to get the capital they needed to embark on the plan Daiyu had wanted to pursue. Eight years that could be collapsed into less than eight months with the bounty of rice.

Offering him their flower Chyou had been admittedly a bit of a long shot. But her granddaughter was intelligent, and men were men, even if they cultivated. The marriage would have borne fruit quickly. Her granddaughter would have taken over all that pesky mortal business for the man and left him to cultivate in peace. He would have all he needed and her empire would have been secure for generations.

But he had rejected Chyou’s advances, instead he leveraged her actual skills. To the point where her dear granddaughter was singing the man’s praises, and eager to help him, especially on that expedition to the south he had put in her head.

Which is why she was cautious.

Sitting with him today and listening to him talk, he sounded more like a nervous farm boy, but she could not forget. For this man to immediately realize her Chyou’s worth… it spoke of great insight. Even now he vacillated between agitation and absolute calm. It was nearly impossible to get a read on him.

“—This Guan Ping is honoured that our Azure Jade Trading company was so helpful to you. We strive for our members to be the best,” her husband said. The cultivator nodded appreciatively.

Daiyu frowned behind her fan. This was going nowhere.

She closed her fan and glanced at her husband, tapping her finger twice on her knee. Her husband didn’t nod but she did see the two taps he made back.

Daiyu interjected herself smoothly. “Speaking of assistance. My dear granddaughter spoke at length about some manner of expedition to the south…?” she asked pleasantly. Foolish, in her opinion. Such an expedition would take years. But if Master Rou wanted specific, mortal plants… then the payoff had the potential to be legendary.

“Ah, yes. I’m sorry about that. I got a bit ahead of myself when I was talking to Chyou,” the man apologized. “I’m uncertain if it’s even feasible. If it doesn’t work, please, don’t worry about it. I’d rather have accurate bad news than a pleasant lie.”

Daiyu hummed, considering his words. At the very least, the man seemed impossibly reasonable. That was how he had acted with little Bo and Chyou, so she felt certain that she could conclude that he wasn’t the mercurial sort. It wouldn’t do any good to see if she could push that reasonable nature. He had, after all, reportedly destroyed Zang Li of the Shrouded Mountain in a single punch.

“We’ll endeavor to keep you informed, Master Jin,” she said, smiling vacuously at him.

Their talk started to meander again. Small talk was the basis for relationships after all. Master Jin was quite the boisterous and chatty fellow. It had been nice chatting with him. Enthusiastic, driven men were a treat, rather than the humourless bores she had to deal with regularly. As they finished their tea, Master Jin announced he had to go.

“Thank you, Master Rou. If there's anything we can do to aid the reconstruction, please don’t hesitate to contact us.”

The cultivator nodded.

“Thank you. And it was good to meet you both. I only wish it was under better circumstances.”

“We are ever at your service, Master Jin,” she said. “Although…there is one more minor matter. There appear to be dolls in the likeness of Mistress Tigu being sold in markets by a merchant house. We wished to make sure that you were aware of this. Of course, as a favour to you, we could put a stop to it…” she ventured. At once, the man’s gaze sharpened.

He considered her words, before he sighed. “I’ll ask Tigu what she thinks about it… but if she agrees, she’ll be getting royalties, yes?” Master Rou said casually.

Daiyu almost lost a grip on her expression in shock

Royalties. A cultivator who knows about that sort of thing, instead of deriding mortal merchant work beneath them. “But of course, Master Rou. You are an honored customer of our Azure Jade Trading Company. We always have our due and as our generous friend, so shall you.”

The cultivator grinned at them, a bright and toothy thing.

They waved him off with a smile as he went back to work, leaving her and her husband in the sitting room. Daiyu waved her hand, and the servants left, drawing the shutters, and leaving the elderly pair in privacy.

“What do you think?” her husband asked after a moment.

Daiyu considered the meeting.

“In all honesty, I do not believe our original assessments have changed,” she said finally. “It's just that our new client is an order of magnitude more powerful than anticipated.”

“....we shall be the most loyal of servants, then. And feast upon the scraps falling off his plate?” Guan Ping mused.

“Yes,” Daiyu agreed. “My dear, could you start on cost analysis for an expedition to the southlands? It should be feasible… I’ll speak with Chyou and get the numbers she thinks will work. The damn fool girl was so giddy about it when I heard her on the transmission crystal…”

================================

Fenxian glanced backwards at his brother disciples. Five cultivators from the Shrouded Mountain Sect stared at the section of collapsed rock. Their faces were lined with stress, and their eyes baggy from three days of searching without rest.

They stood on the side of Mount Tianliyu, about half way up it, in the heart of Yellow Rock Plateau. Their yoked spirits, pulling the carriage, had carried them a thousand Li in a day, up the side of the massive plateau, and high into the air. They had stopped for not even an hour to resupply and gather information, when they chanced upon the lead of something impacting the mountain.

And so a grand search had been conducted, scouring the mountain.

“This is the place the mortals meant?” one of them asked. “Will there even be a body?”

“The hell if I know,” another answered. “I’m just glad we found it.”

Fenxian grimaced at the mound of rocks, covered in dead plants. If their mortal guide hadn’t been adamant the rocks had fallen recently, they would have missed it, because they already looked like they had been there for years.

The hairs on the back of Fenxian’s neck rose up at the proximity. His stomach felt like it was going to drop through his knees.

Because he could feel the ominous wind that came from the rocks.

They started digging.

The rocks fell away as they tore into the collapsed earth. Their fists shattered it easily, tearing into tons of stone. And then the stench hit them.

One of their number gagged, doubling over, as Fenxian grimaced. He looked down into the crater.

A corpse with its chest caved in. It looked like it had been rotting for weeks, rather than days. The skin was drooping and it looked like the body had been consumed from the inside, decomposing for months instead of days. A disgusting slurry of oil and blood pooled in the crater, swirling and stinking.

Fenxin turned away from the body of Zang Li, the cadaver’s face twisted in horror.

Deep enough shit to cover the Shrouded Mountain indeed.

“Come on. Let's get this over with,” he commanded.

They ended up using a spiked pole to retrieve the body, none of them were willing to touch the foul concoction that filled the hollow. Packing the body into a barrel, the weary Disciples of the Shrouded Mountain Sect sealed it tight with a preservation talisman.

“The illusion repelled, the truth laid bare,” Fenxian spoke into the transmission stone. “It was, in the end, the Enemy.”

His brother disciples bowed their heads, shame shrouding their auras.

Fenxian turned to the pool of filth, rage burning in his gut. This bastard… He had spat on the heroes of the Shrouded Mountain Sect. He had made mockeries of their power, and dragged all of them to hell with him. Lighting crackled across his fingers.

There was a thunderous boom as he vented his rage, lightning arcing into the pool sending it recoiling, burning, and twisting.

The disgusting liquid could not stand against the light of the righteous.

Fenxian fired again, and again, and again, until there was nothing left of the blood and oil.

“Rot in the hells, you bastard,” he snarled, spitting on the ground.