The report concluded, and of all things, Bingbai smiled. “Oh-ho. Was this method not of your choosing?”
“It was,” said Fu.
Shuidi withered beneath Guang’s steady glare, finding no escape in the tight confines of their Master’s temporary base.
“And thus Yongwu Long unmakes our designs with a single order? My disciples are not so fragile as this, no?”
Mist drew from Fu’s pipe, aiding in contemplation. “To be otherwise would dishonour our Master. No. We are not undone with this, merely that if one wishes to know the road ahead, it is best to ask those that have walked it.”
Bingbai ran an onyx comb through his beard. “A situation I’ve not personally experienced, in truth. That Yongwu Long flaunts [Constellation Seeds] with much disregard, furthermore, the particularity of his wording can only mean he holds some insight into the [Immortal Sunshine Judgement Formation] long-set into these locales.”
“Our [Dao Oaths] omit treason as his source, and so I wonder if his talent is so great as to notice our Master’s workings?”
“Oh-ho. A mystery. Few outwith our Sect Elders possess this knowledge, fewer yet are those within the Clear Sky that might glean my workings. His talent is without debate, but it is most likely that he gleaned the stipulations of my inscription. An awareness that change will occur at the threshold of five hundred [Paifang],” suggested Bingbai. “The sun casts many shadows, however, and the truth might lie obscured. Going forth, be of the mind that Yongwu Long knows all.”
Fu nodded. “And then stands his hunt for [Constellation Seeds]. My experience of Long is that he seeks to manipulate. Perhaps he wishes to leverage my vocation in a search for accruing power. His disciples or followers would surely benefit from Heaven’s treasures.”
“A genius doesn’t gain power for power’s sake. Observation will reveal more. Oh-ho, now disciple, I would hear your counter,” grinned Bingbai. “How will you deal with the nuisance of Yongwu Long?”
Not a clutch of hours had passed since the invitation to join his fool’s alliance.
Many of which were spent ruminating on solutions.
“Aid. This Gao Shuidi sees the silver lining of these coming clouds. A suggestion that the City Lord’s retinue be given these [Constellation Seeds], deposited safely for reclamation. Better in the souls of grass-fed fools than unreachable within treasure, realm or spatial storage. Over the passing of [Seasons], the Cloud Gathering division will hold a catalogue of swiftly-reaped vessels.”
Hushi conveyed further details to Guang, having the [Spirit Tortoise] rumble over the course of many unheard sentiments.
“I must remind myself that the Cloud Gathering Division’s goal is across a matter of moons, not weeks. Unless Master Bingbai wishes otherwise, we will continue to foster relations within the Heavenly Roaming Prefecture. That we cannot settle matters with a single stroke of the blade- this aspect of ghosts yet eludes me.”
Bingbai’s humour receded. “The constant thrill of [Spring’s] Empire, now waned. Yes, yes, I’d say it flies against your concept. Our Gao Fu is no cultivator of bloated pride, and so I will hasten a series of boons to aid in this. Wen Pinxui will be requisitioned to better coordinate my far-spread division, retrieved from the Empire it seems you so miss.”
Such news brightened his mood, for it was no slight on his honor. Done that these thousand, thousand factions might be better arranged by her talented hand. While the Old One’s memory was infallible, his former Scholarly Head could put right this bag of worms.
“Much of my thought has been given to Long’s prerequisite. The five hundred [Paifang]. A true show of his motive will come when he says that Jade Songbird City can move beyond it. I do not believe he will whittle down the Heavenly Roaming Prefecture’s total by so many that it becomes a shadow of its potential.”
A minor arch shifted Bingbai’s brow. “A reasonable conclusion. Hmm. Were my hands not busied by formation and many other, mysterious pursuits, I’d visit this upstart myself. It evokes memories of my return to the former Four Corners Prefecture, doesn’t it? Establishment and foundations.”
“It does, Master,” he nodded.
“Prudent administration is as vital as any martial talent, Gao Fu. To that end, the second in my series of boons. The obsidian serpent, you have yet to use it.”
Fu withdrew it from his shrine, but allowed Bingbai to speak further.
“When this Sect hall of yours is constructed, place it beneath,” he said.
“Sect hall, master? The Clouded Courts have built an orphanage, that we might foster favour with City Lord Mingqin and her populace. Is this your will? To raise a Sect upon these lands?”
Bingbai chuckled. “For the City Lord? Even a poor master could see your sentimentality, Gao Fu. Oh-ho, the first lie cuts deepest, no? Even so, it holds little sway. In simplicity, isn’t a Sect the natural conclusion to your roots? Whispers of dread and aspiration continue to circulate about the Wayward Winds, you hold talent for tutelage.”
“Gratitude. These words are high praise.”
“Merely the truth,” laughed Bingbai, and here his focus turned glassy. “Perhaps I’ve turned sentimental in turn. For the third boon, seek disciple Zhu.”
Something seemed amiss, for Guang’s gargantuan pupils shared the same glassy look.
And yet this was a flash of sunlight between leaves, a glint of starlight and the latent rays of a vanished moon.
Fu’s swiftness barely caught it betwixt the return of Bingbai’s smile. “To Zhu. As you say, Master,” he clasped.
🀧
Administration was akin to clearing snow when a fresh [Winter’s] cloud hung above.
An inward list of priorities seized each moment of the Fatherly [Asura’s] waking moments, seeming to compound before any one decision was finalized.
Yet all these were dull blades for one accustomed to ever-present threat and decisive acts.
[Autumn] had crawled closer before true progress was made, and the myriad, ceaseless issues had been organized into fluid, actionable plans.
Shuidi set down a brush, for while it was a carryover from more mundane times, there was little dispute about the efficacy of lists.
In hand, Fu read aloud. “Sect establishment. Alliance acts. Fostering relations. Cloud Gathering co-ordination.”
Four pillars to be constructed.
“To detach from mortal sentiments we must etch our plans into the bones of [Seasons] and moons, no longer acting with such reactivity to each event. Bingbai need not be troubled with every detail, and we are beyond asking for aid in trivial things,” came the musings mid-stroke of his whisker. “Our history with Yongwu Long is a weakness to be exploited. We must turn it to our advantage.”
Hushi tapped the first item, impressing thoughts of the Clouded Courts. “Seed the sun-facing, overturn Twenty Sunrise City, strengthen new and old.”
“Indeed,” agreed Fu. “Develop the unrefined juniors in our closest branch. Such a request to their Elder would be trivial for a disciple of Bingbai. To intersperse them with petitioners from the citizenry and arriving Sects would bring the greatest growth.”
Their second item addressed City Lord Mingqin’s alliance, though its given title carried more substance than Long’s misnomer as one of fools.
Phoenix Melody Coalition.
Simplicity would have their actions follow all they had said to Bingbai. To support and catalogue all those that dared steal [Constellation Seeds] from their rightful place among the Cloudy Serpent Sect.
The third item would follow naturally from this.
Displays of martial excellence would surely gain them prestige from the massing Sects, as would the honor of belonging to the Phoenix Melody Coalition. To that end their talents would need to grow.
Exponentially.
This appointment within the Heavenly Roaming Prefecture remained in its infancy, and the true dragons had yet to emerge.
“Wen Pinxui holds talent second only to this Gao Shuidi. Her prudent hand allows us to focus on a thing time has had us neglect. Beyond the consolidation of our [Shrine of Final Skies], this matter shall pave the path ahead.”
Fu stowed the list, observing a misty horizon.
Across the shore of his small domain played some dozen of Aunty Quan’s wards, bounding in pursuit of their [Spirit Hare] partners.
Swift, but untroubled.
[Mist Qi] was drawn through a deep breath, cycled through Fu’s [Core]. It was no requirement, but a mere refreshment to stir clarity into their thoughts.
A thousand actions separated the Fathelly [Asura] and this appointment’s conclusion.
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“Consolidation will arrive with each step forward. No matter the billowing threads of all we must chase, yes, let us follow the most elusive before anything else.”
It began with a fresh deposit upon their palm, a cycling done at the closest edge of their showing skin and brought forth only as none among the three had yet stumbled upon a greater hint upon which to start.
Water first. Base Qi.
Air followed, again base and mundane.
Shuidi shifted this, manifesting droplets of the [Impending Mortality Dew]. It differed, in part. A material made of an immortal’s [Origin Qi].
Their intrinsic Qi. Unique. Borne at immortality’s threshold.
Resentment fluttered through its makeup- vestiges of its original cultivator. But such an intangible concept was not what they sought.
Mist enshrouded their form, blanketing the lakeside and shore with a density even a [Summer] could not pierce.
Hushi unfurled an arm, revealing the [Splinter] hidden within.
“Earthly Qi,” he said of the single bead of [Water Qi].
“[Origin Qi], shallow,” said Shuidi of the [Impending Mortality Dew].
The [Spirit Octopus] impressed what they knew of [Splinters]. “[Divine Qi].”
Such inspection had hours pass.
No heavenly talents, these three cultivators could only expand their [Senses] and compare the feel of each. The distribution, purity, quantity, effect, intent, and strength of each energy within their palms.
Only once had they conjured the method of their advancement, and to repeat it perfectly they vanished all sources from their palm.
“Danger enforced our clarity those [Seasons] ago. Let us see if it can be done without Mridul’s looming threat to inspire us,” he smiled, facing his palms against another.
[Primordial Qi].
A spark surfaced from the [Old One’s Whisker].
The [Hollow Ivory Splinter] followed, and in turn, the [Hundred Immunities Fruit], [Heartplume of Clouded Schisms] and [Shrine of Final Skies].
All but the [Divine Qi] paled against it.
For the [Boundless Dao] to name it- to know it as primordial… A maelstrom of potential existed within the minute spark suspended between his palms. It was humbling, and yet, a peerless thrill.
All three heaved a breath.
[Primordial Qi] gave chase, tracing the flow deep into their [Core]. Fu grunted as this solitary spark erased the Qi held there, feeling his [Heavenly Spectre’s Shroud] flicker as though ten thousand blows were delivered upon it.
Hushi and Shuidi shared this fate, struggling against a rising pressure.
An oddity outside of pain.
Now a flood, the [Primordial Qi] cycled and cycled within their [Core] and [Channels], possessing no quality like that of [Air Qi], [Water], [Spectral] or [Poison] - no, this force was akin to molten lightning as it filled their being to the very brim.
None could shape it.
None could ask it to cleanse.
The [Primordial Qi] inscribed its own will, and within their shared mind’s eye these three cultivators gleaned a manifesting, inwards [Paifang] before a sudden detonation rid them of all sensation.
🀧
“Hushi, Shuidi,” echoed Fu’s voice into a mist-dappled abyss.
His partners rose aside him, similarly stunned by the sensation that had stolen them away.
Fumes of spectacular gold ebbed about them like ethereal tides, and responded not to [Hegemony of Pale Mists], obscuring land and sky alike.
Again, his voice echoed. “Where have we arrived?”
Shuidi’s pincers felt at the closest tendril. “This Gao Shuidi feels [Profundity], and more. She would know how they were spirited away, for we hold no [Inner Realm] to vanish inward as we did.”
A matter of great ponderance, truly.
“[Inner Realm]? I feel a loose connection to our physical forms, do you not?” Fu asked, touching a faint resonance in his [Spirit]. “Our bodies remain on the shore.”
“Yet, we are here.”
“Yet we are here,” confirmed Fu. “A place of [Primordial Qi] and of a whisper’s whisper. Only [Dances Upon An Ivory Sea] led us here by word and association. The plum of [Spring] and the pleasant cultivator from many [Seasons] ago. They spoke of [Primordial Law]. I hope that is what we find.”
Old master.
The Old One manifested here- grander yet than any previous iteration. Amidst ethereal gold he was a leviathan, bloated by these energies to tower and loom like a fragment of his prior life.
“Gao Fu. Shuidi. Hushi. Recall yes, that there are Heavens beyond Heavens. Deeper than a constellation’s secrets, beyond ancient mystery… hmm, indeed. How few have tread in such a place? Not this wizened master until now. My eyes serve only as vigil counsel.”
Fu nodded, troubled that the old one’s depths did not extend to these fresh Heavens.
But what greater crisis existed beyond this?
One step farther brought a whorl of manifestations to bear, explosively so, and silent.
Myriad spires ascended from the depths of mist, erupting to tower across every close and distant horizon. Gold comprised their peerless lengths, though none were wholly similar in appearance save for the shared impossibility of height.
Three necks craned to glean a top that pierced the sky beyond misty sky, and failed.
“Oustanding,” mused the Old One.
No fool, Hushi’s arm hovered a finger’s width from the closest insurmountable spire. Never daring to touch.
Impressions of spiritual, [Profundity], [Dao], insight, and meaning confirmed what Fu’s own [Spirit] felt hindered by.
Even to stand here idle was to suffer an ocean’s weight.
“The great ice that granted us freedom from capture by those of Abundant [Spring]- it was of [Dances Upon Ivory Sea’s] making. To nigh freeze an entire [Mystic Realm] when [Origin Qi] had winnowed her strength. Power is one truth of this [Primordial Law], but no thing is but one thing. For now, let us wander with prudence in mind.”
Observation revealed much, and little.
To speak the thoughts as Fu and his partners now held would have invited ridicule from any fisherman in Thousand Shore City. The meaning and incomprehensible musings that were well equated with cultivators by those who knew nothing of Heaven and Earth.
For the first spire felt melancholy against his [Spirit], and its gold was awash with the buds of flowers yet to open. If a [Dao], they might have named it the [Dao of Potential], and yet in this [Primordial] scape its meaning was deeper.
Perhaps, though these were the thoughts of frogs in wells… perhaps the [Dao] were unimportant against what these spires held.
He saw spires of jubilation. Of a suspended moon, entrenched in darkened gold. One held an ocean’s flow, ebbing with traces of loss and grim finality.
“This Gao Shuidi feels no attachment to any force here,” spoke the [Spirit Crab], and her intent turned manifest. “[Primordial Law]. Its meaning is hollow without further knowledge.”
In the same silent shift, myriad spires collapsed beneath the mist.
Stairs formed on those that remained.
“Oh?” remarked Fu.
His surprise came not at the sudden change, but the odd resonance of those his [Spirit] ventured near. The intensity burned as Fu set a palm closer, and the spike of another’s awareness fell upon him.
“Someone is… someone is upon this spire? No, that feels incorrect. I feel as though this spire is their domain and our [Spirit] intrudes upon it.” A warning force hummed at his growing proximity, multiplying the awareness. “Four presences, for their partners are a spiritual gestalt. Combined, as true cultivators must be.”
Hushi gestured skyward, to where three of these four figures shone.
Silhouettes each.
But not undiscernable.
Neither their martial talents nor [Might] afforded the three any vantage to leap, fly or climb so they might glean more. [Sense] conjured sparse details the longer eyes strained, though in a place of [Spirit] the physical was nigh redundant.
[Divine Sense] burst from Hushi, and in its wake sharpened much of these silhouette’s details.
The figure closest to the spire’s base illuminated alongside an arriving trove of insight towards the structure itself.
“Vague monastic robes. [Spirit Jackal]. Distended earlobes aligned with the more ascetic daoist. Hah. To seek this person is akin to finding a single hair among nine oxen,” he half laughed, overcome with the impossibility of scale. “The Heavens grant those who seek it a glimpse, but why, and what might these positions represent?”
Shuidi clacked her pincers. “These spires are concept manifest.”
“Before you: Ruin,” rumbled the Old One, testing the [Boundless Dao’s] claim thereafter. “Law of Ruin. Law of Primordial Ruin. [Primordial Law of Ruin].”
Confirmation, of a sort.
Fools might conflate their coming voyage with a childish game or sport, and perhaps they might have spoken true, for these three roamed across the [Primordial Law Realm] with an air of both about them.
“Space,” answered Shuidi.
“Sword,” impressed Hushi.
Each spire followed suit.
“Blood.”
“Death.”
“Entropy.”
“Thunder.”
“Causality.”
“Time. Nourishment. Malice. Direction,” came their list, enough named that a mortal’s throat would grow dry before a thousandth might be spoken.
Endless were those before them.
Less were those positioned upon each spire - for the greatest held the tail of one hundred and the least held but one.
Change however, held thousands.
“The talentless Path, it is said,” intoned the Old One. “For what is more abundant beneath the Heavens than [Seasons] and shift?”
The three said nothing.
Scarcer yet were those spires that touched Fu’s passing [Spirit], and in travel they were enlightened to this sensation.
“Our Path has touched these and no more. We lack insight and depth of connection to resonate with these [Primordial Laws]. Brother, sister, call this a fisherman’s folly, but I cannot parse how they might differ from [Dao Principles] save for strength.”
A breath passed in which even Shuidi remained silent.
Then a dreaded hum filled the air.
Cold clawed up the Fatherly [Asura’s] spine as though [Winter] itself had arrived to claim him, prompting him to spin towards the source.
In the span of a breath, only one spire remained, and a voice disapprovingly thundered from its unseen peak.
Unmistakable.
“Patience was ever among your most redeemable qualities, oaf. Bah. But now you throw both it and caution to the wind. My flesh and bones would not send you lest the times had grown dire, so, Gao Fu, speak.”
Grandmother Hua’s aging form shone above the mists, humming.
“Crossroads,” whispered Shuidi.
Fu dipped his head. “Grandmother, we greet you.”
Or so his words might have sounded had the pressure not expelled him back to his physical form.
The shift was swift enough to jolt nausea into a body that could no longer feel such. Traces of blood fled his lip, if little in volume.
“By the Heavens, I feel mortal,” he coughed, blinking until clarity returned. “The [Primordial Law Realm] is a peak beyond a peak, no? A challenge we should not face.”
Both partners reeled from the transition, taking long moments to recover. Even still, their impressions were unified in thought.
Encapsulated by Fu’s next words.
“How eager I am to return tomorrow.”