The Fourth Wall - Chapter 8 preview (Patreon)

The travelers inn was a simple affair, barely more than a single story building with attached stables. There were three private rooms, one of which contained the proprietor and his family; the other two rooms meant for special guests. For the majority of the residents, they would sleep on the ground when the fires were banked for the night and the tables pushed aside. Even ths tables themselves were only l arge enough for four animals and two of the spots were filled when the trio came to it.

Such resting spots were common throughout the land. It was a mark of a well managed province and kingdom to have well managed  and frequent resting areas. It showed investment in the kingdoms, a certain degree of safety in the travel routes and a degree of prosperity in both the kingdom and the civilisation themselves.

Poorly managed resting stations, run-down ones or even settlements that had previously been present but were now abandoned all indicated a deeper issue in the kingdom. As merchants found it harder to travel, as nobles and villagers and pilgrims no longer had places to rest; the economy broke down. And it was, of course, easy to starve such locations of the necessary resources.

Steal a few coins here and there, tax a little too heavily at the cities upon entrance or at the villages and places that used to thrive began to fall by the wayside. Travelers stopped coming, merchants stopped bothering with those trade routes. It started slowly and sped up, such that by the time most distant government personnel noticed the problem; it was too late. And fixing it became a matter of years.

An unstable foundation, for trade in this case. In his case, Wu Ying wondered, what had been his resting station? What had preceded the fall, that he should have noticed before it came crashing down? What early signs had he missed? Funny, to think that he missed it.

They stabled their horses, Wu Ying placing his own steed outside. He watched as a young child came running out, as he was removing the saddle, barely eight years old.

"Honored sir, please. Let me. I'll move one of the other horses, make sure yours is fine," he said, slightly breathless, eyes wide with fear at being caught napping.

"I wouldn't want to put the other guests out," Wu Ying demured.

"It's okay, it's okay. We can make space, I have a fence. It won't be comfortable, but we can make it work," the boy said, nodding quickly and taking Wu Ying's saddle with a grunt. "I'll deal with it, don't you worry, sir."

Wu Ying bent down, staring at the boy, watching him flinch a little. He noted the bruises on the boy's hands, peeking out under one threadborne shoulder, a much more faded bruise across the eye. He'd already spotted the limp before as the boy came out, the lack of proper shoes, his own held together by woven leaves across the top. Anger flickered through him, and the boy shook his head, quickly.

"Don't, sir. Please."

"I know. If you want to leave..."

"I couldn't. He's my father. He just gets angry sometimes, especially with so few travellers..." The boy drifted off, shaking his head and straightening his back. "I can take it, sir. I can."

"Of course." Wu Ying put a hand on the boy's shoulder, pushing a touch of his own energy into the other. It washed over the child, took some aches away, cleared a few blockages. It would do little for him in the long-term, a momentary relief; but it was all that he could offer. Too young to do more than start the basics of cultivation. Even a Meridian Opening pill would be too much, damaging his growth at this stage.

No. He could not help him, not if the boy refused to leave. Some might be inclined to beat the owner, but all it would do was anger the man. When he left, it would be taken out on the boy. Such things, there were no simple solutions. And though the beating was a bit much, it was not, in the end, unusual.

And what that said of them, that casual violence was a thing of life, Wu Ying cared not to interrogate too closely.

"Thank you, Honored Sir. But you should go in, please."

Wu Ying straightened, nodded. He grabbed the saddle bags from the beast, carried them with him inside with one hand. He could have put them away in his storage ring, after all, he had not collected anything during their ride but he kept it with him in hand. It gave him something to carry within, allowed others to focus on that and not just him. 

Inside, the simple ramshackle residence was filled with his friend and the lone station employee, the man waving his hands expansively as he spoke. 

"I will tell them, of course, that a lady is here. A beautiful lady, that cannot sleep on my floor. Just a moment, a moment..." He said, bowing again and again as he backed away. Yang Mu looked on, impassive; Tou He with a little amusement. Wu Ying came over, setting his bags on a table that rocked as he dropped the packs. 

"Coincidence?" he asked.

"Not a chance," Yang Mu said. The reason for her answer came out moments later, both of the earlier guests. Cultivators, the two of them, their auras initially contained till they came out. Then, it unfurled, blood lust and disapproval mixed in with disdain lacing the turbulent emotions that washed over them.

Wu Ying blinked, swaying a little back at the attack, noting that they had control enough to shelter the proprietor. Strong and controlled, and here spoiling for a fight. They stalked up, one a bear of a man in furs and silks, the other in cultivator robes - orange with a splash of pink. Both were older, in their sixties at least and he would assume to be at least Core Formation stage, perhaps stronger if they were veiling themselves. Neither were known to him, though Yang Mu's tightened lips and angling of her body showed that they were not unknown to her.

"Look, brother. It's Little Mu." The bigger one of the pair, the one with the fur cloak grinned as he strode over. "We haven't seen her in years. Not since she was this small...." Holding a hand up to the side of his leg, he grinned. "Little Mu, are you not going to greet your uncles?"

No hesitation, as she stepped forward and bowed. She moved before he could extend his hand for a hug, before he could even insinuate that. "Yang Mu greets the Uncles Ng. We are honored to meet the Twinned Enforcers of the Red Inns." 

"We no longer work for them. Not for many years. Ever since your mother..." the bigger man hissed, then stopped, smoothing out his voice. "Old stories, old stories. It matters not, yes? The day is ending and the road narrows for us all."

Tou He's eyes narrowed a little, as he stepped around to face them as well. He bowed too, hands clasped together. "This one is Liu Tou He, Elder of the Verdant Green Waters sect. May I receive the full names of the personages before him?"

"I am Big Ng. This is small Ng." A small sneer on Big Ng's face, though his younger brother twitched a little at the obvious insult - to both him and to Tou He. After all, not providing a proper name was rude, especially after being asked. "We are just travellers. No one important, not after all this time" He plucked at his cloak, at the hides he wore and grimaced. "Look at us, so poor. It's terrible, isn't it?Why, once we wore the best clothing, rode the finest horses and bedded the prettiest women."

"A tragedy, for sure." Tou He gestured to a table. "I'd love to hear of it. But there is no reason to invite even more misfortune, not on a night like this."

"More misfortune?" Little Ng asked, head cocked to the side as he watched Tou He take a seat. 

Wu Ying was finding things a little strange, for he was being ignored. A participant to the discussion, the group ignoring him as they followed his friend take a seat. He had conjured his tea set before him, a large stoppered jar filled with water carefully poured into a kettle, enchanted to warm its contents. Delicate teaset set before them, a trio of tea discs extracted moments later.

"Great misfortune, all around. Wars and droughts and trade deals disrupted. Entire kingdoms going to war, and it seems to me, in all that, entreprising men can find opportunity." Tou He offered the words lightly, tapping each of the tea bricks, turning the circular disks around and smelling them. At Little Ng's interested gesture, he handed each of the three over after he was done. Big Ng looked unhappy, but at a glare from his brother, subsided as he and Tou He exchanged quick words about origin and growing conditions of the teas. By the time the water boiled, the final brick had been chosen and a portion split off.

Of course it was not so easy. You couldn't just throw the tea into the teapot and add water. No, you had to do an entire ritual. You had to warm the cups and the teapot with the hot water, had to pour more of the water into a basin so that hands could be washed and faces wiped. More water had to be boiled, even as the now clean cups and teapot were emptied out, the dried tea broken apart. More careful sorting of the tea itself, a couple of twigs tossed away, the tea steeped. It was a ritual and one that Tou He was a master at.

It was, in truth, boredom for Wu Ying.

Though thankfully, the proprietor had chosen to reappear at one point, food and drink available. Not that he dared set them on the table, placing it to the side such that it might be taken later. After all, to spoil the tea, to spoil the ritual - it would be worth his life. It was even possible, to Wu Ying's understanding, that one of those tea discs was worth his entire establishment.

Glancing down at the packed earth flooring they stood upon, the old furniture and the chipped glasses and he revised the maybe to certainly.

Nothing wrong with humble beginnings, but the man had little pride in his work. He could have fixed the furniture, added a few shims to keep the tables from rocking, cleaned the plates properly, got rid of the cobwebs high above. There was a difference between poor and humble and not caring. This man, he leaned the wrong way.

"Don't touch the stew," the voice drifted to Wu Ying, Big Ng lips barely moving. He looked over, surprised; and the man smiled a small smile. "No reason for you to die in pain and with the runs."

An eyebrow rose, Wu Ying placing his hands on the table. He met Big Ng's challenging gaze, tempted to interrogate the man for more details. To understand the animosity between him and Yang Mu, why it had to come to blood. But Tou He was speaking, regaling them all about the details about the tea. It would be rude to bother his friend, not when Little Ng was so enamored.  Perhaps, just perhaps, the brother might be convinced otherwise.

"He won't. He just likes tea. Misses having such ceremonies by masters, every day. That's what she took from us, you know. Why we need to hurt her."

"It's a bloody karma, a heavy price." Wu Ying could not help but add. He flinched, when he realised that the spirit message, sent via chi and controlled by his aura warped; a louder shout than the single whisper. His friend did not flinch, but Little Ng glared at him. Promising that he would be the first to die with that look.

Yang Mu, seated by Wu Ying's side, shaking her head a little. Quietly fuming, hand clenched around a single fan. He knew that fan, knew what it could do when opened. Could not tell if it was enough, to stop a man in the early stages of the Nascent Soul stage. An improperly fused one, just like him; a man who could never rise further. But at least it wasn't as though he was dying, he was just... off. 

"Hah! I'll pay it. Not as though we haven't done worse in our time."

"Here, drink. It's a good tea, invigorates the mind and body," Tou He interrupted the group, offering the cup. Big Ng glanced at his brother who had a cup in his hand. The slightest nod, an inclination of the head to show that it was nothing more than tea. No poison, nothing but a little dao, clear water, fire and tea.

"To fewer tragedies," Tou He said, offering the cup in a salute to the group.

They echoed his words, Big Ng smirking. He waited, long enough for Tou He to sip, then down his tea. Long enough for his brother to finish his enjoying his own cup, for Tou He to clear the teaset away with a wave of his hand. That smile, that taunting smile on his lips all that time.

Then, he stood, the proprietor and his son long gone. Hidden away, Wu Ying could sense, below the ground in  small shelter. A place to run, when cultivators fought or demonic beasts roamed.

That, at least, was in good condition.

"Now we finish this," Big Ng snarled. He slammed his hands on the table, shifted his fingers underneath it to attempt to flip the table over. Wu Ying let himself fall backwards, a hand dropping to his sword as he readied himself to draw. He could have done so, but he was a little uncertain for his friends were moving faster than him for once, reacting more quickly. Yang Mu had opened the fan in her hand, the spirit instrument growing in size and blocking the table from being flipped over as its space bending enchantment took effect. At the same time, Tou He breathed out at his well-dressed opponent, a cloud of tea billowing outwards from his mouth.

Crouched over, hand still on his sword, Wu Ying searched for his opening. He could not find one, not with Yang Mu in the way and he cursed his inability to fly. He still had yet to regain his ability to fly, the agony of interacting with his own body to lighten it constraining his manueverability.

A flurry of blows, the table rocking back downwards as Big Ng gave up on flipping it. He tried to strike Yang Mu who swayed and blocked with her fan, the man reeling back moments later as his own attacks, emerging from the shadows around his feet and from his own cloak struck him repeatedly.

He staggered away, giving Wu Ying the opening he needed. He was half-done with his sword draw when he was forced to pause, the pressure of his friend's aura and words crashing down upon him.

"Stop!"

Wu Ying froze, even as Tou He breathed again on Big Ng. The man held his breath visibly, jumping forwards and swinging his hand, only to be blocked. Stronger and faster than Tou He, he might be, but the ex-monk weathered the attacks with aplomb, only backing off after a half-dozen blows had been exchanged, his chest smoking from the last blow that had snuck through his attacks.

Before Big Ng or Yang Mu could engage again, the fur clad man toppled over, wisps of mist gathered around his feet. Joining his brother who slept, contentedly a short distance away.

Of course, Wu Ying could not help but ask. 

"What in the thousand hells was that?"