The Third Cut - Chapter 17 preview (Patreon)

Plans thwarted by the simple fact that Captain Ky would not be available till later in the day, Wu Ying left the gate behind. The smell of early morning congee and buns, fresh produce rolling in from the surrounding farmland and breakfast consumed or being consumed as labourers hurried to work filled the morning, along with the underlying taint that Wu Ying had come to realise was becoming part of the city’s makeup.

Concerning, in many ways. It was not something most would notice, not if they had not both the enhanced senses of a cultivator and the training and cultivation technique to sift through the myriad scents. He did, and he could tell that the taint was beginning to permeate the city in spots. The occasional guard, a mortal who smelled rank to him.

Individuals who had purchased, found or stolen items they should not or utilized improperly cleansed meat or cores. When everyone cultivated, the needs for the populace was likely greater than the supply, especially if it was constricted by cleansing formations.

Every step he took, the wind plucking at his robes and hair, he could feel the pull and twist of city wide formations and the numerous cleansing formations built throughout the city. Many were concentrated in the industrial quarter, upon the hill that he knew to house the formation master school. But there were smaller formations too, talismans or simple workings to do the same, even if they were improperly utilized and thus more inefficient.

Stopping by a roadside stall to purchase a sweet, sugar cane and hibiscus drink, Wu Ying debated his next steps. He could, of course, return to training or cultivating. A man could never have enough of either. The city was still relatively unknown to him, and spending the morning traveling through it to learn the details further would not be a waste of time.

Wu Ying almost resolved to just wander the streets, perhaps visit a blacksmith or ten to search for a replacement jian when the wind blew again, tugging at a lock of his hair and bring with it the smell of overturned soil and fresh cut herbs. It was the smell of ripening fruit and flowering plants, a location filled with wood and earth chi. A reminder of a place.

“Oh, that’s right…” Wu Ying murmured to himself. He downed the last of the drink, returned the cup to the vendor and then turned aside to exit the city once more. The journey to the school would require him to traverse the open land once more, but it was a small matter for the wind cultivator.

Arriving at the green and gold coloured paifang that denoted the start of the school, stone staircases ascending in the distance, Wu Ying read the words enscribed on the plaque. The School of Bountiful Sustenance. A majestic name. Interesting, to feel a slight touch of dao inspiration in the stroke of the lines, a worldly infusion of intent into them. Looking at the plaque, one was bound to understand more than just the words, but feel the earth they turned, smell the plants that grew or the rice that was threshed.

The hill itself was unlike many others which were left untouched but for the scattering of buildings meant to house their students. No, the School of Bountiful Sustenance’s hill was altered, the earth cut away to create the stepped rich fields. Earth berms rose between the fields, closing off the land whilst drainage ditches and bamboo pipes guided water from the wells and springs above.

Figures dotted the hill themselves, moving through the routine of care that tending that were part and parcel of farming. With his spiritual sense unfurled around himself, Wu Ying could feel multiple formation works twisting the energy of the environment around, amplifying earth chi to provide and conserve sustenance, adjusting the flow of wood chi to promote growth and healthy saplings. Water chi was drawn and converted to help sustain the various fish aquaculture that was sustained within the fields themselves, while robust ground cover helped ensure firm footing upon the numerous paths ascending and descending.

Of particular interest were the farmers themselves. Most were in the higher grades of Body Cultivation, with a few standout individuals – often the overseers and teachers – in the middle grade of Energy Storage. He sensed no Core Formation cultivators among this group, though it was no surprise that they might be higher.

After all, he could feel the subtle pull of chi that concentrated towards the peaks. Up there, where more than plain rice was grown would be where those with the strength and expertise to handle such items lived.

“Are you lost, honored visitor?”

Wu Ying turned smoothly, offering a placating smile at the cultivator who stood there, clad in a simple brown peasant tunic. He carried nothing in his hands, though Wu Ying could sense a minor fluctuation in space around the man’s fingers, a surefire indicator of a storage ring.

“No. I am just regarding the fine school,” Wu Ying gestured to the hill. “We do not have such an establishment where I come from.”

“Of course. Nanyue continues to lead the world in our understanding and exploitation of cultivation techniques for the greater good,” the man said.

Wu Ying made a noise to indicate that he had heard the man, though he felt no desire to confirm the other’s statement.

Eyes twinkling, as though he understood Wu Ying’s silent disagreement, the man put two hands together and bowed. “But my apologies at my rudeness. I am Thich Tuan Sy.”

“Long Wu Ying of the Verdant Green Waters Sect. Are you a teacher here, by any chance?”

“I am.” Tuan Sy inclined his head. “How did you tell?”

“You’re very strongly wood aligned.” Wu Ying then gestured at the man’s hands. “I can also see the hands of a farmer there.” Nevermind the darkness in his sky, even for a cultivator in the peak Energy Storage stage. Much like Wu Ying’s own skin in fact, though the man seemed to be more naturally tanned and less protected by his continued progress as a cultivator.

“And I yours.” Gesturing to the path leading up, Tuan Sy said. “I assume that the famed Verdant Gatherer has questions about our facilities and our training methods? Perhaps he wished to peruse our library and trade some of his rarer stock.”

Wu Ying did not startle. He was beginning – reluctantly – to realise that to some people, his reputation had grown significantly. He was no unremarkable farmer any longer, even if he might have preferred that. It was also not too surprising that a school dedicated to his own profession would know of him.

In any case, it was to his benefit. Today.

“I did, actually. Would Teacher Thich be able to provide some assistance in this matter?” Wu Ying said, following the man as they began to ascend the hill. He noted idly the way Tuan Sy flexed his chi, using a subtle qinggong method that connected him with the ground and let him flow up the hill at the pace a swift horse might utilize at a canter.

“I can. I am, however, only a small individual in our illustrious school. For much of what you desire, the Principal or Vice-Principal will need to be contacted.”

“Of course.”

Smiling a small smile, Tuan Sy began to regale Wu Ying with details about the school, slowing to a stop at times to point out areas of particular interest. A new irrigation method, a breed of rice that they were testing that yielded more grains per stalk, a cultivator who had found enlightenment.

Enlightenment. How often Wu Ying noticed it, ascending the hill. It reminded him of the Sect, where individuals could be found seated in silence, caught in the middle of an action or flowing through a form and a glimpse of the greater Dao would arrive. Causing them to freeze and Heavenly chi to pour down.

He had forgotten how often that occurred in his own sect, having traversed the wider world for so long. A world where opportunities to embrace the greater Dao were over-shadowed by the needs of daily life, the struggle for sustenance, a shelter over ones head and security against demonic spirits.

But here, in the safety of a school that catered to their needs, that taught them to their individual needs, these low-ranked cultivators were facing moments of enlightenment. He only sensed three such individuals on his walk up the hill, but even three was more than what he normally experienced in moths living in a city.

Rare was the individual who found enlightenment among the press of humans. Which were an interesting commentary upon civilization and society, if one were willing to focus upon such a matter.

“As you probably noticed, we only have a few buildings-” Tuan Sy was saying, as Wu Ying brought his attention back to the present as they neared the first of the major structures in the halfway point up the hill.

“If one does not include the warehouses and greenhouses,” Wu Ying said.

“-if one does not include the warehouses and greehouses,” Tuan Sy said in agreement. “These are the residence halls for our newer members who work the lower fields as well as the local library for their use and the classrooms. Nothing in there that would be of interest to Cultivator Long.”

“Oh?”

“Mortal rice, mortal fish,” Tuan Sy said. “We teach cultivators the necessary skills to feed our population.” A shrug. “Necessary, but not of interest to you. Those students who progress far though, who have shown significant skill are led higher, to learn more skills.”

“Spirit herbs.”

“Exactly,” Tuan Sy said.

“How do you handle those herbs that are impossible, or incredibly difficult to cultivate domestically?” Wu Ying asked, curiously. That was, after all, the entire reason he had a profession. Some plants did not work well with others in near proximity, others took too long to grow and others just died when domestic cultivation was attempted.

“Mmm…. The same way your sects do, of course,” Tuan Sy said.

A raised eyebrow greeted his non-answer.

Smiling, Tuan Sy said. “By making wandering gatherers quite welcome.”

Wu Ying could not help but chuckle a little at that.

“A good point, that.”

“It is.”

Exiting the small mid-stage village, Tuan Sy carried on once more, detailing the fields and the worlds they crossed, carefully probing for Wu Ying’s knowledge and interest. The wind cultivator did not mind, for he knew that providing such information would also see to an easier period of trade later.

***

There were three things that a Gatherer prized above all. The first was the skills they used, whether it was the kinds of formations they could build, the methodology for extracting the most value out of a harvest or even their ability to spot such plants in the wild. These were hard won skills, requiring long hours of training, repetition and often, a light touch.

The second aspect highly valued by the Gatherers was knowledge. Whether it was the information contained within their minds or kept within the numerous treatises and volumes describing the various plant, their elements and their use as substitutes or ingredients in a cleansing bath or apothecarist pill. Without knowledge, a Gatherer was nothing.

Lastly, the third aspect that a Gatherer prized were the seedlings and cuttings, the plants that had been bred over years and germinated and cross-pollinated to provide greater harvest. Whether it was as simple as a Spirit Grass blend that flourished in the warmer months, sacrificing hardiness from cold or a complex Fire Orchid graft that flowered on the regular, these seeds and cuttings were hoarded by Gatherers of the more sedate variety.

After all, if one could not just wander into the wilds to acquire what one required, then it was only the unique strains that one brought to the table that could bolster one’s reputation. Wu Ying, of course, knew of such games of reputation and prestige, of favours and coin that were played by sect Gatherers. Even if, for himself, these games were significantly less important.

Not that he did not cultivate his own strains. After all, the World Spirit Ring allowed him constant access to land in a great variety and quantity than most cultivators had. He grew fields of Spirit Grass, worked upon golden rice fields of the highest quality and had entire orchards filled with plums, many infused with a variety of elemental chi types to name but a few things. Over time, small living creatures had grown persistent, insects and earthworms, flies and bees and more. That had, of course, created its own issues as larger mammals still could not exist within his World Spirit Ring, their requirements of the dao and chi too complex. Webs of formation flags and constant pruning via Wu Ying’s will allowed him to alleviate the problem with some minor exertion of concentration.

But for al his success in developing fields of spiritual herbs, Wu Ying was still one person. The amount of effort required to care for certain finnicky plants were enormous, many spiritual herbs requiring constant tending to ensure their growth. Many of these plants were former wild gathered herbs, domesticated but still prone to failure within constant attention.

A small matter for a sect or a family or a school dedicated to such matters. Impossible for Wu Ying who had multiple draws upon his time, who had not just a single greenhouse but entire fields and hills and rivers to watch, lakes and ponds and pits. Such plants could only be thrown into the wild landscape of his own World Spirit Ring and wished the best, as they sprouted or not.

Even more importantly, Wu Ying lacked that one aspect that these institutions contained – that depth of institutional knowledge and time, an inheritance of past efforts. Having been denied Elder Li’s own heritage, he had no specialized strains for himself but what he grew. For trees and plants that might flower only once a decade, that required years to grow before they could be harvested, his brief time as a Gatherer, not even a pair of decades long was nothing.

“We cannot trade the Divine Wind Ivy for such a small sampling of stock,” Principal Nguyen said. “Surely you understand how rare such breeds are.”

“I do, but at the same time, your Divine Wind Ivy has little demand.” Wu Ying opened his hand sideways, displaying his open palms. Between the pair were the samples of stock, breeds of plants that did not grow this far south, before them. Some were but seeds, lain dormant and safeguarded in simple jade boxes, others cuttings that were preserved and able to be grated to new plants. Each pulsed with the power contained with them, overshadowing the rich brown hardwood tree they rested upon. “There are few cultivators like myself. Surely that must drive their price down.”

Principal Nguyen was already shaking his head when Wu Ying was half-done with his last sentence. “Surely not. If anything, I am being overtly generous to the Verdant Gatherer due to his prodigious reputation and expectations of additional trade after we complete this one.” He gestured at the small cutting of the ivy that floated above the table, the wind coursing around the still green leaves. “Caring for the wind ivy is quite taxing on our disciples. The fact that we continue to do so with so few customers is an argument that arises each year when allocating resources.

“Why bother, when we might not sell a cutting or even the leaves? Could we not put such resources to better use growing more fire or wood ivy’s? Dedicate precious student time to another?”

Now the Principal let out a long sigh. “Such arguments continue, and so when a customer arrives, we must make them pay for all the resources already spent to some extent. In this way, we can justify the cost for the future again.”

“And yet, if I purchase nothing today, then all that cost is wasted,” Wu Ying said.

“Yes. A hard dilemma, for both of us. But I say again, we cannot sell you a cutting – a cutting no less – for such meager returns. Surely the great Verdant Gatherer has more to offer.”

“I do, of course. But as the honored Principal suggested, we have much to discuss. I would not want to trade all that I have before we speak of other trades.” Wu Ying gestured to the side, in the direction of the library that the pair had visited – briefly – before he had been ushered over to the tearoom to discuss his presence with the Principal. “Access to your library and copies of your records among them.”

“Then, perhaps, let us discuss that,” Principal Nguyen said. “A simple trade, that will include all that you have offered and what you desire along with access to all but the highly restricted works of our library for a period of a week.”

“And those works…?”

“Number eight manuals,” the principal replied, cutting down sideways as if dismissing the topic. “All for plants and findings that we would not trade with you at all.”

Wu Ying raised an eyebrow, got no answer from the unspoken prompt, so he reached for the teacup and sipped on it. He was content to wait till he received some further explanation. Eventually, the Principal sighed after a long, drawn out silence.

“They are plants and other herbs gathered from poison practitioners and other dark sect practitioners. Plantings watered with the blood of innocents, yin-infused corpse flowers or poisonous roots. Forbidden practices and cuttings, but knowledge that is still important to keep.”

Wu Ying grimaced. “I see. Then I am happy with that cavaet. It is, as you would expect, of little interest to me.” A slight pause, before he continued. “But for such a generous offer, you have not remarked upon the price.”

“A copy – a full copy – of your notes.”

“A big request.”

“It’s a big library,” Principal Nguyen said, eyes twinkling.

“Which perhaps might make it less useful for myself,” Wu Ying said. “After all, I have much to look over and find work that is of use to me.”

“We can dedicate one of our senior librarians to aid you whilst you are visiting our library.”

“For the whole week,” Wu Ying said. “That way, they can copy what works are of interest to me.”

“No,” The Principal said immediately. “This deal favours you much more then.”

“Do you think so?” Wu Ying said, cocking his head to the side. “Your school is vast, its lineage deep. I will not have access to the plants that you have bred after I leave. Much of your findings will have to be replicated by those I might trade it to, and even then…” He gestured around him. “Few would have the environment or resources to duplicate your actions.”

“Mmmm… we would ask that you not trade such learnings within a kingdom of ours.” Principal Nguyen said. “There is, of course, little worry within our kingdom as we share such information freely, but would not give our enemies such an advantage so freely.”

“You have many?” Wu Ying said, slightly amused. He nodded to the quiet attendant who glided forward and refilled his teacup, placing a small snack plate of baked cookies before them. The wind cultivator had tested the cookie before, the soft crumbly texture of the dessert pairing with the sweet sesame paste within quite delightfully.

“Many what?” Principal Nguyen said, pushing the plate of sweets forward towards Wu Ying when he spotted the man’s eyes drifting downwards.

“Enemies.” Giving in to temptation, Wu Ying took another.

“None right now,” the Principal said. “All hostilities have ceased at the moment. But a man as travelled as you are is cognizant of such political concerns, and the future.”

Chewing upon the slightly sticky central filling, careful to use his wind to pick up the crumbly flakes of pastry to deposit them onto his plate so as not to make a mess, Wu Ying considered what had been said. And not.

His notes, for theirs. He could, of course, shortchange them, hold back certain volumes since they would not know the full extent of his wanderings or what he had gained. Allowing them to take his work and make copies would certainly benefit the school, see more Gatherers in competition perhaps. But…

It would not be by much. Many of his notes were for environments unlike the ones the Gatherers of Nanyue lived within. The geography, the plants, the animals and the mix of elements dictated a unique set of collectable herbs – and the pills that supported the growth of the cultivators within that environment. Like him, they too would struggle to make use of his notes of the everlasting, wintry north for example without access to the plants that grew there.

Wu Ying took his time considering the pros and  cons, before he found himself smiling. In the end, what tipped his decision was a simpler understanding. That were he to pass away, all his notes, everything that he had ever gathered would be lost.

“If you promise to make a second set to be sent on to the Verdant Green Waters if I am to pass on,” Wu Ying said. “Then we have a deal.”

Surprised, Principal Nguyen leaned forward. “Are you expecting to pass away soon, Cultivator Long?”

“The taint affecting much of your city and the spirit beasts. I seek to deal with them,” Wu Ying said.

“You, alone?” more surprise. Wu Ying tried not to take offense at the tone.

“There is an expedition arriving soon that will set out to complete the task. I shall join them,” Wu Ying stated.

“A special unit, yes.” Principal Nguyen lips thinned. “What makes you think they will allow you to do so? Our special units are quite prideful.”

“Surely they would not turn down another sword,” Wu Ying said. “Or an individual whose experience in the wilds likely compares to theirs at the least.”

“Ah, but in our lands? With our beasts?” the Principal said. “Surely you know that much can change.”

“Of course.” Wu Ying turned one of his hands over, revealing a cloth laced with simple enchantments sewn into them. Flipping the cloth open, the smell of tainted chi immediately burst forth as he revealed the tainted beast core within. “And who else but me has more experience dealing with a changing environment? Surely a taint that could alter the spiritual core of a magnificent animal like this must have altered the environment too, nearby it.”

A smile crossed the Principal’s face then, as he interlaced his fingers. “You want my recommendation as well, then?”

“It would not hurt.”

The Principal fell silent for a time, considering the question. Wu Ying chose to eat more of the delightful cookies and sip on his tea, whilst the wind blew in from the open window, bringing with them whispered secrets great and small.

Eventually, the Principal met Wu Ying’s gaze firmly, resolve anchored deep within.

“Your terms are acceptable. Let us begin, then, for I believe there is much to do.”