The Fourth Wall - Chapter 17 preview (Patreon)

To go west, they travelled to the north and east. It might have seemed strange, but the choice to take a riverboat across the water via a conveniently placed river and canal set-up meant that even the minor diversion over a few days after they skirted the mountain range would save them weeks of travel time. 

Travel by boat was both more convenient, faster and allowed the cultivators to cultivate and contemplate their various daos. It was the preferred way of crossing the vast distances of the country, especially in the watery south. Or it was, usually, though the last few years of drought had drained many of the usual rivers and made smaller waterways and canals unpassable - in whole or in parts.

It led to a lot of work for coolies and nearvy villages as they dragged boats and ships upriver, worked with shovels and chi techniques to deepen rivers and clear out construction. The more ambitious and long-sighted members of nobility or royalty paid for such work, ensuring their subjects were cared for during this tough time and enabling long-term infrastructure improvements.

The slovenly, the greedy, the short-termed thinkers or just the unlucky looked away or into their own care only, leaving canals to run dry, for ships to change passage and merchants to form new alliances. 

Then again, in some ways, Wu Ying found himself symphatising with the nobility. The unlucky ones who were feeling the keen edge of deprivation, as autumn winds blew and the first crop of rice - for those farmers that conducted single crop sessions - came to an end. Yields for that first crop had been marginal, if not non-existent for many. The storehouses had been raided, multiple years of drought causing them to empty.

Now, late crop or second crop harvests would be coming in, in a month or so - if not earlier depending on local conditions. Wu Ying knew, if given a choice, many of these farmers would wait.

For a change was, finally, arriving.

"I can smell it," Wu Ying murmured, a small smile on his face. His head turned towards the stern of the boat, to the east. In the far distance, the gathering of clouds could be spotted, darkening the skies and leaving a faint mist in the distance. 

"Rain," Tou He muttered. "It will be good to have it. How much, do you know?"

"Not much, this time." Wu Ying answered, head tilted upwards as he listened to the wind. "Just a sprinkling, enough to wet the ground, to add to the stores. But there's more, behind. And more coming."

"Then, the drought is broken?" Tou He said.

Yang Mu held a hand up, as though grasping something. She exhaled gently, and the item in her hand briefly came into view, a small thunder cloud that rolled and twisted. It disappeared so quickly, it might have seemed no more than a mirage, but for the flash of light that trailed off it. Down into the ground, up into the sky, back east. That light raced outwards, covering thousands of li and mere cun at the same time for the model she had held was but a representation of connections.

"It is. I sense a change in the weather, a change in the environment and a release of the block that had once existed." She frowned as she lowered her hand, rubbing at the fingers. Wu Ying frowned, noting how they smoked a little. "I believe Ah Ying is right, that the rains will return."

A cheer arose from a sailor standing nearby, quickly quietened as the trio of cultivators stared at him. He flushed and ducked low, muttering apologies as he ran away. However, not long after, the captain of the ship came over, bowing low to the trio as he neared. 

"I apologise, Honored Cultivators. My man had not meant to overheard your conversation. He will, of course, be suitably punished for his impertinence," the captain said.

"No need," Tou He replied, waving a hand genially. It was the same one where he had lost his fingers which drew the captain's eyes, though the cultivator did not seem to notice. "It was an honest mistake. We were not speaking of anything of import."

"I see. Of course. Thank you, again, for your understanding." Another deep bow, this one Wu Ying felt with a touch more actual gratitude. He would not be surprised if the sailor was still not punished, if for nothing more than attracting the attention of the cultivators. As much as they were honored, they were feared too. After all, the displeasure of a cultivator was a dangerous thing to court, for mere mortals could do naught but weather it.

After a moment when the captain had not left, Yang Mu leaned forward a little to draw attention to herself and then said. "Speak, dear captain."

"It was a small thing. But he said, my sailor that is, he said. Well, the drought... it's broken?" the captain said.

"We believe so," Yang Mu answered simply. "Though I would not dare speak such certainty before the courts or a magistrate, we believe so."

"Rain, for sure." Wu Ying murmured, nodding to the distant clouds. The captain turned in the same direction, peering hard. He shook his head after a moment and Wu Ying was struck, once again, how far he had come. His sight, his sense of smell, his understanding of the world far dwarfed the captain's.  A factor he had forgotten. "Later this evening. And again, tomorrow."

"Of course, Honored Cultivators." No hesitation, no indication of distrust. If the cultivators said it was going to rain, of course it was going to. He bowed to the trio again as he stepped back. "I must see to the boat then. But, this is good news. If you do not mind, I shall share it with the crew."

"A little late to ask, for they have heard," Wu Ying said, smiling to take the rebuke out of his words. After all, he had heard the excited sailor already passing on the news and the boat itself was not that large that such news had far to go. 

"A celebration then," the captain said.

"There's no nee-" Wu Ying fell silent as a hand landed on his arm, Yang Mu offering the slightest shake of her head. Then, her attention on the captain, she continued. "We would be delighted. And perhaps we might even offer some small addition to the festivities."

"I could not-!"

Wu Ying tuned it out as his companion pressed upon the captain, citing laws of hospitality and courtesy. He knew the end result of that discussion the moment Yang Mu had made her decision and the captain might as well just accept his eventual loss.

"Change, then," Tou He said, looking upwards as though he could see pass the sky, pass the sparse clouds into the realm above. To the world and those that dictated the flow of the land below. "About time."

And all Wu Ying could do was echo his friend's sentiments. About time indeed.

***

A boat journey as a passenger was a long and tedious period that offered little in terms of engagement. Such journey's were perfect for cultivators, who often took to their rooms for closed door cultivation. Tou He was the first to do so, needing to continue the reinforcement and stabilisation of his newest ascension. Muttering something about new instabilities he had noticed during the recent battle, he requested time alone. Yang Mu was not much better, only breaking from her own cultivation period when they stopped at towns to continue her mercantile endeavors, expanding upon her contacts and buying and selling goods.

For Wu Ying, he found himself a little at the lost. Without a Nascent Soul cultivation technique for his soul, and no longer able to access or utilize the Seven Winds body cultivation technique, he could but process and stabilize his wounded body. Until he found - or created - a soul cultivation technique that worked with his current predicament, he could not progress at resolving and integrating soul and body together.

Physical exertion, like he had once done as a Body Cleansing cultivator, was ill-advised. Not only was he significantly more senior than he had been before, his base strength was entirely at odds with the sailors. Adding to the fact that they were traveling with the current and wind, and there were little use for an extra body at the oars. Especially one that would throw off the pull and beat.

He tried, for a time, to practise his martial skills. However, once again, he found himself stynmied by the nature of his predicament and injuries. He could not access the full extent of his abilities, nor was he allowed to exert himself too greatly. Instead, he could only practise the base forms of the many scrolls and works he'd collected. For a time, it amused him, but having soared high above the techniques written in many of those manuals, he found himself setting them aside all too fast.

Thankfully, at the second stop on their journey, a new distraction arrived in the form of another cultivator. Middle-aged, slightly portly, carrying a simple hooked staff over one shoulder where a pack of clothing and other sundry goods lay and wearing a large knitted hat, he was quite tanned like Wu Ying. A wandering cultivator who seemed to know the captain all too well, trading greetings before he took station in one of the hammocks below.

However, his presence below decks was only for a brief moment, just long enough to set aside his gear and emerge again to traverse the deck to the stern of the trip. There, he extracted and then cast a fishing line into the water, taking comfortable seat on a small cushion and placing a pipe in his mouth. Within moments, the pipe was lit, exuding the smell of peach and tobacco smoke alike.

At first, Wu Ying watched from a distance, wary about the newcomer after their recent attacks. Later on though, curiosity took over as he sensed the emanations of chi from the other. It was subtly different, though the wind cultivator struggled to understand it for many hours. Only upon close examination of the other did he begin to grasp the action, though not the method.

Two days in, after silent perusal and Wu Ying slowly making his way closer, did they speak to one another beyond courtesy greetings.

"You may ask, if you wish, Cultivator Long. I can see that my cultivation technique has intrigued you," Fung Wan said.

"I am sorry, I really did not wish to disturb you," Wu Ying said, as he took a seat by the man. Day or night, Fung Wan guarded the railing, only stopping to sleep and eat a little before returning to his fishing. An endeavor that he was only mildly successful at, for he utilized neither cultivation technique nor chi to benefit his hobby. Even the average sailor, during their downtime, caught more than Cultivator Fung.

"Not at all. I have all the time in the world to speak to an orthodox brother. It might even broaden your horizons." There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke, just a tiny amount of teasing in his tone.

"I see," Wu Ying said. "You are a heretical cultivator, then? Do you, perhaps, have a sect or...?"

"None at all!" Fung Wan said, cheerfully. "None would take me, for I care not for their strictures. Or their requirements." 

"Is that because of your cultivation method?" Wu Ying said. "I sense that it is... disordered."

"Chaotic, you mean." He smiled, welcoming as he continued. "I cultivate the body and soul together, making no differentiation between the two."

That was very much what Wu Ying had sensed, which was why it had intrigued him. The flow of chi through the man's body, in and out, was chaotic at best; suffusing different portions at different times. While his chi might make use of his meridians a little, it was as though the channels that the meridians cut in his body had overflowed, such that  the entire field was soaked through with chi. 

"It is very different, for certain." Wu Ying shook his head. "You do not utilize your dantians very much, beyond a store of somewhat more refined energy. And even then..." He frowned, uncertain of how to describe it. 

"It's not necessary. I do utilize all three, unlike most cultivators. But mine are but storage areas for when I require more heft." The man smiled a little, picking out his pipe and gesturing around. "Not that I need it much."

"Yet, it works for you, Cultivator Fung. Quite well, it seems." The man was a puzzle. He did not utilize his meridians, he did not have a great store of refined chi that had passed through his meridians. Some of his Energy Storage meridians were still experiencing minor clogs, though those were washed away and shifted around, as though they were but flotsam in the sea of chi that was his body. A sea that was made up of the same environmental chi that soaked into the world, not differentiated, not changed.

Which shouldn't have been possible. Or even successful. Yet,  if Wu Ying was to gauge his strength, he would have placed him in low Core Formation at the least. Except, of course, that he had no core.

"I have had some minor luck." Fung Wan said, humbly. 

"If the Honored Cultivator is willing, I would love to hear about his experiences."

"Even if, I tell you now, that nothing I say will aid you in your current predicament? After all, I am not, need not, integrate soul and body. For mine are one and the same." Wu Ying twitched and he nodded, knowledgably. "Yes, I sense the scar that is your cultivation. Like an open wound, bleeding chi and pain and wrongness into the environment." He grinned, reaching out and tapping the end of his dead pipe on the railing, dumping out its contents before placing it in his other hand as he began the laborious process of repacking it. "No need to glare at me. I but describe what I sense. I certainly did nothing to cause your predicament."

Smoothing his face out, Wu Ying bobbed a little bow. "I had not meant that, Honored Cultivator. My predicament is... recent. And still painful."

"So I can tell." Fung Wan waited and when Wu Ying chose not to leave, he continued. "Very well. My story is not that complicated. I grew up in a town, my father a guard for a shangbang. He wanted me to become a merchant, not a guard, so he had me taught letters and numbers with the merchant sons. If things had not changed as I went along, perhaps..." He trailed off, shrugged.

"Anyway, my history is unimportant, beyond the fact that I had access to a number of cultivation text and works of philosophy at a young age. And though I was trained in the Yellow Emperor's technique, I was, well... unsuitable to it."

"Really?" Wu Ying said, surprised. 

"Oh yes, we exist. Very rarely, but we exist. Rather than be disappointed though, it just gave me reason to continue my other studies. In philosophy, mathematics, poetry, music. Even the other cultivation manuals." A shrug now. "Not that we had the numbers a sect might have, but the Guandong merchant association had acquired quite a few texts, in the one and two star rating level."

Wu Ying knew not what those rating levels might mean, but he could guess. Different organisations had different ways of marking the complexity and versatility of such documents. 

"I think, in the end, it was because I could not utilize the Yellow Emperor method that I began to question the received wisdom. That one must take cultivation by steps. That one must utilize and refine and make the world's energy yours, to adjust it to ones base form before you could progress. Or that even the meridians were necessary.

"Instead, I began to experiment, a little at a time, with just being receptive."

"Receptive," Wu Ying repeated.

"Yes. To the world. Not to Heavenly chi, though that has its place. But to the world, and the chi around us. We all have barriers, all have safeguards and concerns. I just... stopped."

Wu Ying could not help but shake his head, not understanding.

"Look at it this way. Consider yourself - your ego, your aura, your body - like a wall. Some have windows, others have doors. I - for whatever reason - had walls made of rice paper. And because of that, rather than try to block the flow of chi into me, I but chose to poke holes in my walls."

"You poked holes in your aura."

A nod. "And myself."

"I cannot say I understand how you would do that."

Fung Wan grinned, looked at Wu Ying's empty hands and then gestured, making a rod appear from his storage ring. He offered it to Wu Ying, as he continued. "Then let us fish and speak."