The Third Kingdom - Chapter 22 preview (Patreon)

Formation flags around the residence, yellow talismans pasted on the door and walls of his room. Only one way to enter the building without crossing the threshold of the formation and that was the front door. The back on the end of his arms stood up every time he neared the boundary, reacting to the improperly placed defensive measures.

As for Wu Ying, he was seated in the dining room, a cup of tea before him and a bowlful of snacks on the table. Roasted peanuts and baked almond cookies, steeped tea. The tea was a little too bitter, the almond cookies a touch burnt. He still at them.

Breathing, slow and steady, as he centered himself and cultivated. No point in wasting time, and the act of cultivation was much like meditation at times. The simple and constant act of drawing in the chi of the world and refining it, twice over from his meridians to his dantian to his core was similar to breathing after so many years. Even if the cultivation method was different, requiring different pathways, the process of doing so was not any more difficult.

More difficult circumstances might have arisen if he had been contemplating the dao, turning over moments of enlightenment and his own experiences in his search of understanding. Or, these days, refining such understanding to feed the nascent immortal spirit within his core, supplying it with enlightenment that would define the individual that he would be as an immortal.

It was strange, to think that if he broke through, his very soul would be absorbed and subsumed by the spirit that he was in the process of growing. That a portion of what made him, him – the mortal, fleshy and weak parts would be burnt away, leaving a different person behind.

A death, of sorts.

For everything mortal died.

There was some atavistic fear in that. A concern that many Core Formation cultivators never managed to overcome. It was strange, in a way, that it was never spoken about in prior lessons. Then again, perhaps it was not so strange. How many would care to speak about their own death and failure.

Wu Ying turned over the words in his cultivation manual once more as he waited. Words of wisdom and reassurance, the promise that it was not true death. No more than a child growing up died, as experience and knowledge robbed innocence of its naivete and optimism.

All things changed, all things evolved. The seasons passed, mountains were worn down and lakes froze over. There was no shame in growth, in bending to the winds of time. A soul cultivator that fed the nascent spirit within his body with the intrinsic dao of their own existence would see only a minor alteration in their personality, a refinement of mindset.

Or so it was said.

In truth, Wu Ying had yet to reconcile himself with the idea of murdering his own mortal soul to step into the next portion of his immortal journey. And that was not even including the difficulties of even surviving the breaking open of the core, joining his two souls and ensuring his immortal soul – incomplete as it was when it emerged – did not immediately perish under the tribulation of Heaven’s displeasure.

No, he was not ready. Then again, he didn’t have to be.

Right now, he would take things one step at a time. For him, that meant replenishing his chi stores such that he might proceed with the creation of the next layer for his core. It would be a process of months before he gained enough energy, maybe even years. Unless, of course, he managed to acquire suitable apothecarist pills.

Till then. One step at a time.

Speaking of steps, he heard the tromp of feet returning. Three gentler, more graceful ones and a fourth that had an uneven beat to it, as though the walker was hanging in space for a brief second before striking down on the second footstep. Directly behind, Wu Ying heard a pair of footsteps, more familiar than even those preceding. Missing a third, the rhythm just a little off from the familiar.

Their scents came soon after, confirming his initial impressions. Rather than barge right in though, the group stopped in front of the building. He heard them traverse the perimeter, pausing at windows and the back door before the entire circuit was complete.

Whispered words, but Wu Ying did not need to listen to their contents. After all, he knew what they likely spoke of. And if some of them might complain about the exact placement of his formations or the lack of subtlety – well, he did not need to hear that criticism either.

He was no formation master after all.

Eventually the group entered the residence, Pan Yin choosing to lead the way. Wu Ying could see the slight tension in her body when she stepped pass the threshold, but realizing that there was no danger, it swiftly faded.

“Evening,” Wu Ying greeted them as they moved to crowd themselves around him. He reached out and tapped the talismans set on the table side him. “Each resident should take one of these and imbue it with your chi. When I shut the formation later, it will be the only way to enter without breaking the formation entirely.”

“It’s not very good,” Pan Mu said. The third sister, often silent when her boisterous younger sister or older sister was around spoke up for once. She was frowning at Wu Ying, gesturing at the walls and the flags outside. “They’re also not very well positioned. You could increase their strength by a good portion if you moved the third and seventh flag as well as…”

Pan Yin’s raised hand quietened her sister who crossed her arms, unhappily. “Why did you do this?”

“Safety, of course.” Wu Ying shook his head. “Not just against the killer, but… well. The rest.”

“You mean the way the other cultivators are looking at us?” Jochi, the northern archer said. “I’m not afraid of them.”

“Not individually, perhaps. But if they came as a crowd?” Wu Ying raised a single eyebrow, making Jochi frown. “Exactly. Better to take care.”

“If you think your formation could stop a crowd, you’re a fool,” Pan Mu said immediately. She ignored her sister’s glare as she continued. “It’s barely strong enough to stop an Energy Storage cultivator from breaking through. If you put it together properly…”

“The Safe and Serene Southern Breeze Campfire Formation is not strong,” Wu Ying admitted, “but it has the advantage of being easy to set-up and having an integrated alarm. If someone attempts to breakthrough, we’ll all be alerted.”

“And then what?” Pan Shui said. The way she was frowning at him, the way she gripped tight on her spear, Wu Ying assumed she knew what he was about to say.

“Then we run.”

He watched as she frowned and opened her mouth to object, but Gao Qiu cut her off. “You think there will be more deaths.”

“If the murderer could escape, they would have, I think.” Wu Ying frowned a little, looking upwards and staring at the wooden ceiling, letting his thoughts coalesce. “I don’t know why they’re killing people or what they have to gain. There’s some logic to the last murder, but the other two?” he shrugged. “I don’t understand it, if there is a purpose. Perhaps the killer just likes murdering others. The… painting certainly indicated as much.”

“Painting?” Jochi said.

“At the second murder scene. For my brother,” Liu Ping grated out, her eyes flashing with repressed fury at being reminded. “They did it in his blood. As though they were taunting us. Taunting me.” Her words broke at the end, and Gao Qiu placed a hand on her arm in comfort.

“They painted in his blood?” Jochi sounded shocked, looking around and realizing no one else seemed surprise by that revelation. “It must be a demonic cultivator! Why are you all not more outraged?”

Pan Yin tilted her head to the side, before shrugging. “We are worried. As is Cultivator Long.” She gestured to the walls again, indicating the formation that surrounded them. “But panicking will not help us.”

“Panicking? Why shouldn’t I panic? I have no desire for my soul to be eaten by a demon!” Jochi replied. “Do you?”

“That’s just a story,” Gao Qiu said. “They don’t actually eat souls.” Then, looking around, he added. “Right?”

Wu Ying looked around at the faces of the other cultivators, gauging their reactions. Some were nodding, obviously thinking it was an old wives’ tale. Others, like Jochi’s, were firmly fixed in doubt. “As I understand it, the rumors are true only for a small subset of demon cultivators. Even they find such practices abhorrent.”

“And how do you know so much about them?” Jochi said, suspiciously.

“The war. We had run-ins with dark sect cultivators that dabbled in demonic cultivation techniques,” Wu Ying said. “I spent some time studying about them in my Sect vaults. However, there’s not a lot that is certain about such groups.” He shrugged. “It’s not as though orthodox or even heretical sects spend much time in conversation.”

“Who would?” Gao Qiu said, wryly.

“Is that why you were called in, earlier?” Liu Ping said, suddenly. “When my brother was murdered?” Wu Ying nodded. “Then why weren’t you asked to look over the Investigator’s body?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “It’s possible that Elder Cao decided that because I did not sense anything the last time around, there was no point in bringing me this time either. It’s not as though I have that much experience with them, especially in an investigative capacity.”

“More than us,” Gao Qiu pointed out.

“But maybe not her,” Wu Ying said. Still, he would have liked to see the body. To understand what had happened. A small part of him felt guilty, irrationally so, but he had spoken to Investigator Chu the night before. Maybe if he had warned her… said something. Done something.

It was why he wanted to see the body and crime scene. Not because he was a voyeur or interested in seeing another dead body. He had learnt how to put aside his feelings, to see the bodies as slabs of meat instead of broken souls and loss opportunity and dreams, but it was still not pleasant.

A part of him wished he could go there, review the corpse and crime scene. If naught else but to put the nagging feeling that he could have done something aside.

Yet, practically, if he was not invited, what could he do? Defy the Elder? The woman looked to have grown even shorter of temper since the latest killing. Having no leads must be chaffing at her.

Core Formation cultivators grew used to being all powerful, able to deal with the majority of their problems via sheer strength. Outside of conflicts with other Core Formation cultivators, they ruled their surroundings. And Core Formation cultivator conflicts were mostly those of cutting words and angry social challenges.

Being frustrated by not having a direct solution to their conflict – or even understanding who they were in conflict with – must be making her wish for the days of leading armies and killing people on the front lines. Though, considering her prior profession, perhaps she had never done that either.

“You think she has experience with demonic cultivators? Or those from the dark sects?” Pan Yin said, curiously.

“Not really, but I don’t really know much about her.”

“Nor do I.” Pan Yin said. “Nor do any of us, no?” She looked around, curious if anyone disagreed.

Gao Qiu was the one who spoke up to the others surprise. “We’ve learnt a little about her.” Wu Ying noted that he was not the only who noticed him say we, with Jochi and the Pan sisters exchanging wary gazes. “Former guerilla general in the eastern front. She was involved in a few border skirmishes though nothing major. Spent time in the capital, working directly under the Directorate of Armaments for a time. Well regarded and one of the strongest in her cultivation, but she was forced into retirement.”

“Why?” Wu Ying asked.

“Politics. Something about a death that she caused in the process of her duties,” Gao Qiu said. “The details are shrouded in rumors.”

“That’s a lot for a little bit of information,” Pan Shui said, sarcastically. “I’m surprised you managed to learn all that while we’ve all been stuck here.”

Gao Qiu shrugged. It was Liu Ping who answered the suspicious gazes turned upon them both. “We looked into it, before we arrived. We wanted to know who was overseeing security.”

“Huh.” Jochi rubbed his chin. “I never even considered that as necessary.”

“Nor did we. Knowing that the Seven Pavilions were arranging it all was enough for us. After all, we did not expect this,” Pan Yin said. “Why did you?”

“It’s not that we expected murders!” Liu Ping said, hurt in her voice and eyes now. “Why would we? It’s my brother who died!”

The others winced, falling silent while Wu Ying bit the inside of his lip. Was his death retaliation then? Something to do with the White Flower Merchant Association, their rebel group? Yet, the rebels were against the government – not demonic cultivators.

Then again, was the painting but a distraction? He had wandered that, when he had sensed nothing from the painting, no indication of a corrupted touch. Not that all demonic cultivators had that, of course; but someone taking such blatant action, you would think so.

And why even announce yourself, especially when your first killing offered so few clues and indicated a much more methodical mind behind it? None of it made sense. If he could just make it make sense…

“Cultivator Long?” Pan Shui spoke up, breaking Wu Ying from his circular musings.

“Apologies. Just thinking of the murders,” Wu Ying said, then gestured at the talismans that none had taken up. “You might as well use them. I doubt we’ll tease apart the murders tonight.”

“Not without more information,” Liu Ping said, angrily.

There were a few nods, but Joshi seemed done with the conversation. He was the first to take the talismans, imbuing it with his chi before bidding the group farewell. After further unspoken communication, the three sisters copied his actions and ascended the building, leaving Wu Ying and his former companions behind.

After the mortal proprietor had arrived and provided further cups before hurrying to check that the other cultivators required nothing else from him, Wu Ying looked at the pair that had sat down.

“I don’t trust her.” Gao Qiu opened the conversation without preamble.

“Elder Cao?” At Gao Qiu’s nod, Wu Ying sighed. “I told you, I don’t want to get involved in your other activities.”

“This has nothing to do with that,” Gao Qiu replied.

“There’s something strange about her,” Liu Ping said. “We asked to help with my brother’s murder. We asked to see the Investigator’s body. We have reason to be involved in all this. But she rejected it, both times.”

“You’re not trained,” Wu Ying pointed out, reasonably.

“Nor were you.” Liu Ping said. “And the Investigator, last night…” She trailed off.

“What do you mean, last night?”

“I spoke with her. After the midnight bell, when she had chosen to return from the party. She was working in her office alone and I…” Liu Ping looked down, staring at her hand. “I wanted to ask her if she had learnt anything.”

“And did she?”

“I think she did,” Liu Ping insisted. “But she wouldn’t tell me what. Said she needed to be sure.”

Wu Ying frowned. “Sure about what?”

“I don’t know!” she hissed, frustrated.

Gao Qiu reached over and placed a hand on her arm, calming the younger woman. He looked at Wu Ying, gesturing around him. “Do you see why we’re frustrated? She learnt something, but now the Elder is hiding it.”

“If Elder Cao even knows.” Wu Ying pointed out. “You said yourself, Investigator Chu wanted to wait before speaking. Or perhaps Elder Cao does have a clue, but is waiting to narrow down her suspects and does not wish to alert the perpetrator.”

“Why bother?” Gao Qiu replied. “If she has even a rough idea of who it could be, she could drag them all in and subject them to interrogation. Surely with her strength, she could pull the truth out.”

“I don’t think that’s really her specialty. Just because she’s a Core Formation cultivator doesn’t mean she can beat the truth out of people,” Wu Ying said. “We’ve all learnt how to handle pain, after all.”

“There are other ways to draw out truth,” Gao Qiu said, darkly. “The Army has taken great pains to explore them all when they’re searching for traitors and rebels.” His voice softened even further. “And a Guerilla General would know them all.”

“She would?”

“That’s part of their other tasks,” Gao Qiu said. “The Guerillas. The Directorate of Armaments.”

“Really?” Wu Ying was shocked, at the darker secrets of this kingdom being revealed.

“Yes.” Gao Qiu shrugged. “Not all tasks are equally honorable. Some things are best done not in an official capacity but by those who understand the need for discretion.”

“I see.” Silence ran through the room, before Wu Ying probed further. “And you expect this to happen here?”

“We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t do it to all of us,” muttered Liu Ping.

“Strong accusations.”

“It has happened before. Jiaju village. The 241st Spring uprising.”

“Ah Ping.” Gao Qiu shot her a look and she quietened, though sullenly.

“I’m grateful for the warning,” Wu Ying said. “But why come to me? Do you expect me to pressure the Elder? She barely gave the sect Elders face. I doubt she’d speak to me.”

“She’s more likely to listen to you than us,” Gao Qiu said. “At least she’s asked your opinion once before.”

Wu Ying looked down, staring at the teacup. He downed the drink, grimacing as its tepid and bitter nature. Steeped too long, left to cool. Still, he poured himself another cup from the teapot anyway. Tea was tea. “I can speak with her. That’s all I can truly offer.”

“That is all we can ask.” Gao Qiu hesitated for a moment longer, before he leaned in again. “Also, if things turn bad… if she does start taking people in. We intend to leave.”

“We?”

“Not just the Merchant Association, but others we can trust.” He exhaled, roughly. “We’ll free those pilloried. We already have the key for them. But when running, we could use you.”

“Why me?” Again, Wu Ying played the fool. Probing for more information.

“Do you think we’re all fools?” Liu Ping said, roughly.

“I don’t understand,” he replied.

“You’re no ordinary Energy Storage cultivator,” she replied. “And it’s not just your sect, though that would have been good to know.” He frowned a little, but did not cut her off, even if he did wonder how she knew what she knew. “Or the fact that you’re a Spiritual Herb Gatherer. That’s not enough for the Elders to speak with you the way they have. For the sect cultivators to treat you with such respect.”

“Then, what do you think might be happening?”

“You might be an envoy. Or a hidden expert.”

“Not exactly hidden, am I?” Wu Ying said, touching his chest.

“You might be hiding your strength, playing the tiger in a goat’s skin.”

“Or perhaps they just truly fear my Sect and my Master,” Wu Ying murmured softly.

“If that is true, that is good for us too,” Gao Qiu said, cutting off Liu Ping before she could contradict him. “When we escape, they’ll try to stop us. If they will hesitate…”

Wu Ying nodded. He understood the man’s point, though he was not certain if he would join them. Still, the offer and the potential to leave was one he would keep in mind. Even if running would make his time in this kingdom even more difficult.

Already, the first few weeks in this kingdom was more complicated than he could have ever envisioned.

“Tell us if you learn anything, Cultivator Long.” Gao Qiu, sensing that he had gotten all that he would get from Wu Ying this night, stood up, pulling Liu Ping with him. The woman seemed sullen before she deflated suddenly, the exhaustion from the day’s events and her grief robbing her of her energy.

Quietly, the pair exited, leaving Wu Ying to his bitter tea and sour thoughts.

***

Wu Ying touched the edges of the formation, verifying that the building was still protected. He had spoken to the servant within, confirmed that no one else was to enter or leave the building before he shut the formation entirely. Those with the talisman tokens could still move freely, but everyone else would be locked out.

Satisfied with the precautions he had taken, Wu Ying stared down the silent streets. There were few daring to walk the streets in the dark, and those that did were grouped together or moving quickly from pool of light to pool of light. Even with the added illumination of spirit lamps, the closely constructed buildings of the street cast long shadows.

A slight shift of his chi and Wu Ying jumped, stepping upon the wind directly to take him upwards, high into the sky and onto the tiled rooftops. There, he was not surprised to find watchers, guards with crossbows staring down at the hurrying cultivators and few mortal merchants.

His ascension caught the notice of the guards and while a few took care to pay extra attention to him, Wu Ying ignored them. They were not his concern, not right now. Instead, he drew a deep breath, cycling the myriad scents of the settlement through his nostrils. He called upon the wind and a breeze answered, tearing through the streets and curling around closed doors and rattling shut windows. It stole notes and hints from those below, bringing forth their redolent gifts to their imperious friend.

Wu Ying breathed, mentally tallying the scents, placing them in a mental map of the settlements. Searching for an overabundance of blood, of hints of demonic or blood chi, for the taste of burnt tar or the tang of the otherworldly.

He found nothing, though the wind spoke of windows shut tight and spheres of control that had been formed to block further investigation. Minor formations, enchanted objects deployed for privacy. Among them, the guard building, the prison.

Wu Ying turned that way, eyeing it and the group of guards that watched those who might choose to take an unhealthy interest in the prison. The trio of guards tensed, the spike of fear and wariness in their scents making him wave. Of course, that did nothing for their unease, but he chose not to tease them further.

A step and then again, and he gusted away. Running across the rooftops, leaping between alleys, he jogged till he left behind the settlement. To his distaste, he could not return to the clearing he had trained within, for a greater formation now stood in the way, blocking egress.

Finding a fallow field at the edges of the formation, Wu Ying stopped. A small gesture drew forth the sword case and the weapon itself was extracted from within. He exchanged weapons, belting on the new Saint-level weapon.

Drawing the jian was a thing of beauty, the sword light as a feather and still stiff enough that it would only bend when he desired it to. Turning the blade edge from side to side, Wu Ying regarded the weapon in detail once again.

He drunk in its intricate detailing, staring the green jade inlay along the blade, the repeating leaf design and the water-steel pattern on the metal itself. He caressed the dark grey and green hilt, tested the weighting of the tang and the small stone in the pommel, the white jade stone gleaming with suppressed power.

No enchantment on the weapon itself, but it needed none.

Wu Ying drunk in the details, swinging the weapon around to test weight and balance. He could wield it without such regard, it was part of having the Sense of the Sword. Already, he could sense the full length of the weapon, grasp the balance point and note the ever slightly greater width of the weapon near the hilt. He knew what his maximum lunging distance was, how easy it was to use a tip cut and how to balance and speed up disengages.

Yet, knowing and knowing was different. This moment of reflection and observation was as much spiritual as it was practical. He let himself linger over the weapon, admiring it.

Then he began.

First form. Second. Third. Fourth form.

He moved through them all, till the weapon was no more than an extension of himself. The air rippled, cut apart and shrieking with each step, each passing blow. The earth was torn and rent apart as he moved, stomping advances and floating retreats as he danced through the forms.

When he finished all four, he stopped and breathed. There was a fifth form, but it was not one he was ready to practice as yet. It would take too much time, require too much careful rehearsal. Wu Ying needed to move through it slowly, so that his body remembered each position, each attack and variation that was possible from that position. How to string it all together, both sword and sword energy together.

More than that, he would need to expend a lot of chi, such that practicing here, now, was inappropriate. Dangerous.

Anyway, he had another reason for being here beyond growing comfortable with his weapon. For a time, he stood still, pulling forth the memory of Elder Cao and their battle. He drew forth every moment of the duel, recalling it in entirety. And then, once he was certain he had her fixed in his mind, he recreated the battle again in the physical.

Repetition of movement, repetition of attacks, starting and stopping as he chose reactions and pieced together her retaliation to his changed movements. A lunge to a cross-body block, Dragon sweeps the Floor to take her balance. Only for her to flip through the air and unleash an explosion of energy, wielding her aura to press him down.

Then, she came.

A thrust at his head that transitioned into a feint as the target switched to his leading leg. Cloud Hands blocked the first and second change of directions, but then she shoulder charged him, moving into his space. Taking away his options. Failure on his part, as surprise had forced him back the last time. This time, in his mind’s eye, he stepped into the charge.

The Elder Cao in his mind was surprised.

She brought her haft up and…

And…

He was not sure. Wu Ying reset his stance, reset the mental image of his opponent in his mind.

A single battle was insufficient. His image of her, unrefined. As much as he might guess, as much as he might draw inspiration from the many manuals he had read, from the general philosophy of the styles and the dao she exhibited, it was all assumptions.

Guesses of the greatest order.

Leaving him, sometimes, staring blankly into space as the ghostly image in his mind stuttered and stopped or chose not as she would but as he wanted her too. Which, in truth, was a failure on his part. For all this was preparation and training, practice against an opponent that he might one day have to fight.

He could not shake the memory of the attack on Gao Qiu, the way it might have cut through his token.

And if she might sense his training in the distance, his own aura blanketed the field, pushing away her spiritual senses and the light probing she and the other Elders had trained upon him. It would not stop them from physically spying upon him, but none of the three had chosen to leave the settlement.

Small favours as he trained long into the night. Even as the dawn broke upon the churned and trodden fields, rent from missed strikes and all too real retaliations against imaginary attacks, Wu Ying drifted and fought, studying.

Eventually as the cock crowed, Wu Ying sheathed his weapon, exchanging it for his usual jian. Wondering, once more, what this day might bring.