The Third Cut - Chapter 9 preview (Patreon)

On horses a day later, Wu Ying and Yang Mu rode through the hinterlands on their way south, leading a pair of pack horses behind them. The pair of cultivators were not alone, the road they travelled often used by merchants and other travellers as one of the main arteries of commerce. Still, most of the other travellers gave the pair a wide distance, unconsciously grasping the difference in cultivation and social standing.

“I do not believe you refused to help calm them,” Wu Ying complained once more. “It was you who pushed for me to include the spirit stone in the first place!”

“You did well enough,” Yang Mu said, easily.

“It doesn’t matter if I did eventually get Elder Eng to stop asking for his pill back, you could have helped. Unless you wanted me to fight my way out…” 

“It would not come to that,” Yang Mu said. “Once they stopped they would realise that we had nothing to do with the matter.” A slight smile then. “Anyway, I had to make sure I was ready to run. After all, the Verdant Gatherer is well known for his ability to blow away.”

“Really?” Wu Ying said, surprise registering at that note.

“Oh yes. The Verdant Gatherer. He moves like the wind that precedes his presence, as formless as the air, as dangerous as a typhoon and as swift as a gale. If he chooses to run, none can catch him.” Her eyes twinkled with humor as she recited the words. “Or so the stories say.”

“Those stories are going to cause me problems in the future, I just know it,” he grumbled.

Anther laugh, as she guided her horse around a deep pool on the road they rode upon. She waited till the two beasts were close together once more. “I am surprised that you chose to take the main road and agreed to the horses though. After all, the stories all speak of your travels on foot.”

Wu Ying glanced down at the horse he rode upon, stroking the creatures neck. The unconscious ability to move with his mount ensured he looked like an experienced rider, though he was nowhere as comfortable as his companion. After all, she was not wrong.

“It’s true that I normally pass through the wilds. Horses are a liability then, as you probably understand now.” Wu Ying shrugged. “But I’m not opposed to taking it easy, when necessary.” Anyway, he had no further insights into his movement techniques at the moment. He had not managed to purchase the Hottest Flame movement technique, not willing to spend the cores or taels to acquire it. Without additional inspiration, he was certain he had achieved the peak of his current variation in his movement technique.

Oh, there was certainly some minor alterations that could be done, but the adjustments would see only the most modest of changes. On the other hand, he did have a technique – the modified Never Empty Wine Pot method – that he could spend time practicing and familiarsing himself with. Here, on the main road, where the chances a mistake in a refinement was unlikely to draw a Nascent Soul spirit seemed the best time to do so.

And, of course, in this way, both she and he could journey together, without Yang Mu having to expand her chi to keep up with him. Even if she had access to the same Never Empty Wine Pot method, she was not trained to use it. Nor interested. Something about a conflict with her own cultivation methods.

“Though, I would not have appeased them by letting them make me responsible for their deliveries,” Yang Mu said, patting the saddle horn and the reins tied for to the pack mare she led. Wu Ying had one exactly the same, the horses burdened by voluminous furs and bags.

“It was a simple enough compromise. Liang Soong is a busy trade city, and coming in with goods for the families will give us another set of contacts,” Wu Ying replied. “Anyway, you don’t get to criticize if you don’t help.”

She chuckled and bowed her head in acknowledgement. After a short break, she could not help but ask. “I do wonder though, why did you not offer to help catch the thief? Surely you could have caught him?”

“It’s nice that you’re so confident in me, but I would not be so certain.” Wu Ying frowned. “Did you not hear the rumours when he showed himself and his aspect.”

“The Lightning Thief?” Yang Mu nodded. “A wandering cultivator who has plagued the south, a genius wielding the rare aspect of lightning. Extremely fast, his attacks shocking and lethal for many. Hunted by a half-dozen families and the government. A hero among the general populace though.”

She recited the facts that they had been supplied with a sardonic air, then grinned at Wu Ying. “So, you were scared to face him?”

“At minimum a Peak Energy Storage cultivator whose beaten Core Formation cultivators before, with a Lightning aspect and the Soul of the dao?” Wu Ying shook his head. “No, I think I shall leave him alone. Individuals like that, they will become peerless prodigies.

“Or stories of the fallen.”

“And the trouble he caused? The stone he stole?”

“What of it?” Wu Ying said. “It is a single spirit stone. Let him play the rascal of the south. Why feel affront over such a minor thing, when it is such a small thing to one of us.” His lips turned up wryly. “Such annoyances, such concerns about loss of honour and face, that can burden ones soul and mind. If we treat it as no more of an annoyance than the falling rain, as quick to fade as the water on our skin, it will not fester in our hearts, creating a shadow of anxiety and anger that holds up back in the future.”

“Is that how you hold all individuals, all organisations who cross you then? You discard their presence, as no more than the passing rain?” Yang Mu asked, probing.

“Not all individuals, not all organisations.” A soft smile tugged at his lips, as he recalled friends and family. “Some linger, in the heart and the soul. Warming it with their generous actions.” Then, he grew grimmer, as darker thoughts intruded. “And others, for the harm they have caused. Though, most of those, no longer survive.”

Yang Mu eyed Wu Ying for a second, then nodded quietly at his answer. For some reason, Wu Ying felt that he had passed a test with her. Not that she said anything to that effect, even as she kicked her mare to speed up around the wagon before them.

Sometimes, he really did not understand the woman. 

***

Much to Wu Ying’s delight, the remaining journey to Liang Soong was uneventful. There were demonic spirits to contend with, especially as the pair retracted their auras such that they were an attractive target for the creatures. It cost them little in time, provided a nice supplement in their food stores and resources and added to the safety of the roadway.

Wu Ying would disappear early in the mornings and late at night, searching the surroundings for new and interesting spirit herbs and vegetation to add to his World Spirit Ring and his own stores. Many hours were spent adding to his files, drawing new images and recording notes and adding to his maps of the region. During the day, he passed the interminable riding with idle conversation with Yang Mu and long periods of cultivation, further refining his own understanding of the new Never Empty Wine Pot method.

Yang Mu on the other hand kept herself entertained by speaking with their fellow travelers, the pair often linking with passing merchants, nobles and the occasional traveling farmer. The gregarious woman made acquaintances with ease, sharing meals and wine with her new friends along with gossip and tall tales. That the majority were mortals seemed not to concern her, her easy grace and charm crossing the gulf between cultivator and mortals with ease.

Only when the pair were forced to showcase their abilities to deal with the occasional demonic beast was the gap widened. Even then, many times, she was able to set her new friends at ease once more with a few well placed jokes and the sharing of the largesse.

Wu Ying, to his amusement, was brought into such discussions more often than not. It was not a situation that he despised. It reminded him much of his time with the Pang clan or the _____ in the north, where the distance between mortal and cultivator were bridged by bonds of familiarity, family and feudal responsibilities. It was also an engineered opportunity to practice the new dialects they came across, most especially the dialect of the south and their eventual destination. 

As they travelled further west and south, Wu Ying noted the changes in language, customs, dress, vegetation and food. Rice continued to be a dominant food type, with everything from congee to simple glutinous rice meals cooked whilst on the road. Each dish utilized a greater degree of sugar and soya sauce than the cleaner, lightly seasoned meals of the coastline. Dry spice rubs for the meats and marinades combined with a preponderance of deep frying and roasting for the meats with separate lightly steamed of fried vegetables graced their tables on the regular.

As the undergrowth grew denser, with clear land hard won through the immense working of the mortals, so did the disappearance of animals that required much grazing space. Rather than lamb or goats or even the occasional cattle, pigs and chicken and aquaculture fish dominated the cuisine. Of course, with the influx of demonic spirits and other beasts from the deep forest, such cuisine also added more meats like snake, lizard and the occasional massive spider.

As delightful as the changes in their daily meals might have been, the alterations in the ecosystem were even more intriguing to Wu Ying. Gone were the bamboo forest and their swaying trunks. Along with the warmer climate came denser undergrowth. The muddy, wet lands filled with mists and cloying, barbed shrubs that grew under the shade of broad leaved trees that had never felt the touch of snow.

The land as well grew hillier, mountains slowly appearing in the distance amidst the rises. Rain struck the group on the regular now for they were entering the middle of the year, when spring gave way to summer and hot oceans released their liquid captive to the sky, to scatter themselves across needed earth. Sheltered – for now – in the lee of the mountains and hills, still the massive monsoons and rainy weather soaked the travellers.

More than once, Wu Ying triggered the Earth’s Embrace protective formation to form the earthen shelter for himself and his companions. In the earthen shelter, the group would dry off whilst waiting for the majority of the storms to pass by, even as roadways were washed clean and footing destroyed, as trees fell and new blockages had to be removed.

More so, while dialects switched and altered as they passed village by village, a new predominant tongue grew plentiful. Under the guidance of Yang Mu, Wu Ying’s own linguistic capability strengthened, aided by his cultivator’s mind and experience studying new languages. By the time a month had passed, he was passably fluent.

Each step was a slog, yet the flow of personnel never stopped. More than once, the cultivators passed by army patrols, working tirelessly to cut down trees, clear blockages and replace washed out roads. The occasional earth and wood cultivator lieutenant were safeguarded by the army personnel, their greater cultivation and focus allowing them to utilize their chi-techniques to do the work of dozens of unaspected cultivators.

Yet, for all the slow-going of the route itself, for all that the environment sought to impede their travel, each day saw them closer to their objective. No monsoon, no physical impediment could stop the pair, and even after crossing the mountain range that demarcated the true Middle Kingdom from the outlying provinces, they persisted with dogged determination.

“Are you certain you cannot shift the winds a little?” Yang Mu grumbled, one hand idly holding the reins of her steed. The creature knew to pick its way around deeper puddles, though it kept its head hung low as the wind and rain battered the pair as another rainstorm thundered around them both.

“I am certain,” Wu Ying said. “These winds are not for me to control.” His lips curled up a little in sardonic amusement. “If nothing else, I would not anger the lords of the skies who dictate the movements of these clouds.”

A slight hesitation, as Yang Mu tilted her head upwards. There was nothing to see in this cloud-darkened day, heavy rain barring sight of the clouds themselves. Occasional lightning flashes above and the continual rumble of thunder marked the day, mixing with the constant drum of droplets against her aura. 

“You can see them?” she said, doubtfully.

“Not see. Sense.” And only that because the wind carried their scent in great multitudes, for the dragons who danced amongst the rainclouds above had travelled with them since the clouds had formed in the western sea. That, along with the smell of dragons, they brought with it the scent of exotic spices and an acrid, burnt oil and diseased meat stench, he chose not to discuss. “Be thankful they do not bother to turn their attention to the earth. Nor do I have the desire to attract them.”

“Easy for you to say,” Yang Mu said, arms crossed. “But keeping the water off my clothes is tiring.”

“Then, do not,” Wu Ying offered. “The rain is warm and soothing on the skin.”

“And cold.”

“Not to me. And it shouldn’t be, for you.” He inclined his head to the side, a slight smile on his lips. “It’d take a lot less energy to warm yourself from the inside than protect yourself from the rain entirely.” He reached out and stroked his horse’s neck, before continuing. “Anyway, everyone else is enjoying the rain.”

“Or quietly suffering it.”

“Yes.”

Silence, before Yang Mu let out a long sigh. She twitched her hand, withdrawing a large straw hat from her storage ring and placing it upon her head, a light silk veil pulled down to help with the water. Then, she added an overcoat, flexing her aura so that it covered her and her mare for a moment while she dressed. Only then did she release the hold of her aura, letting the rain wash over them both.

The horse let out a low nicker of surprise, the brief respite from the deluge disappearing and leaving it annoyed. It bucked a little, before reassuring murmurs and a firm hand on the reins calmed it down once more.

For a few moments, the pair continued to ride along in silence. Their last group of companions had chosen to await the clearing of the roads, staying in the roadside inn rather than press on that morning. Eyes closed, hands gripping the reins, her oil slicked silk raincoat and veil kept Yang Mu mostly warm, even as she brushed her fingers along her saddle.

“The water is warm,” Yang Mu commented after a while. 

Wu Ying could only smile in agreement, and the pair continued their journey in pleasant silence. Or as pleasant a day one could have, whilst riding through an interminable rainstorm.

Days of rain, of muddy progress and brief stays in waystops and Wu Ying’s earthen formation shelter allowed them to make good progress. Till one day, as they turned the corner and ascended the latest hill, they came across the jade green and grey stone walls of Liang Soong in the distance, the shimmering barrier of the city’s formation flickering in the distance as it protected the city within from the occasional lightning strike whilst allowing the fall of the liquid itself.

“We’re here.” Wu Ying said, guiding his steed to a stop with practiced ease.

“Finally.” Yang Mu rolled her neck and shoulders. Though her words were laced with exhaustion, there was a smile of eagerness and anticipation on her lips.

“Now, we can really begin.” Fingers touched the hilt of his sword, brushed against the Coral Dragon Scale armor under his robes and traced the outline of his storage rings. He mentally verified the escape talismans he carried, the single Nascent Soul slaughter formation he had been sold and the extra sword he stored.

Then, satisfied, he looked over at his companion to verify her own preparedness. When she offered him a single, curt nod, he smiled. And clicked his tongue, sending his steed down the slope to the massive city. The city where, even now, traces of something twisted and rotten wafted towards him.