The Third Cut - Chapter 21 preview (Patreon)

“How much did he take you for?” Yang Mu pressed, the next day. The trio were on horses, waiting near the southern gate for the arrival of the special unit members. By internal agreement, the trio had chosen to arrive earlier than the agreed upon time, on the off-chance that the Colonel sought to leave without them.

“Too much,” Wu Ying replied to the merchant’s daughter, his hand drifting once more to the hilt of the sword by his side. Sheathed as it was, the intensity of the blade was hidden. Yet, even a glimpse at the scabbard and hilt was sufficient to inform Yang Mu of its origins and price, after which she had begun to interrogate him.

“You should not have gone negotiating without me,” she said. “Or at least asked me beforehand. I could have told you he was a wily merchant. How do you think he came to own the largest shop in Liang Soong.”

“I would think his obvious mastery as a swordsmith,” Wu Ying replied.

“Oh, please! As though the best craftsmen are the best merchants.” She sniffed. “It’s thinking like that allows us to thrive.”

“It’s thinking like yours that makes everything more complicated and expensive than it has to be.”

“Ah, so you think craftsmen should just give whatever they have away, or that the time and skill they’ve put into learning their art should be discounted?” She snorted. “Do you give away your rice then?”

“When a family was hungry, we shared what we had.”

“But swords aren’t rice.”

“Though they can save lives too.”

She nodded. “Yet not every sword is the same, though most rice when eaten is similar in their final result.”

“Final result?” Tou He, listening to the two of them argue, a wrapped steamed bun with a slice of meat in one hand mumbled through his mouth.

“To be shat out,” Wu Ying said, eyes glinting with humor.

Yang Mu twitched, sniffing at the wind cultivator. “I was about to say, to provide sustenance. I would never be that crude.”

“You forget, I saw you fall into that mud pit after the leech swarm attack,” Wu Ying said.

“You were never to bring that incident up again!” She shook her head. “Now I’m glad he took you for all you were worth.”

“Not all,” he replied. A flicker of a memory, of being forced to wield his final card in the negotiations. The name of a boy who had achieved the Soul of the Sword. And the penning of a letter to him, to inform him of the weapon that awaited his hands, if he ever sought one that suited his skill.

That it might be years before the child was old enough to take hold of the weapon or dare the journey, he had not informed Grandmaster Vu. Some things, some secrets and individuals were best served by being mysteries. Even if he had confirmed that his own progress to the Heart of the Sword had come from studying under the sword saint.

Even then, after all that he had traded one way or the other, Wu Ying found himself once more rather penniless. Having to divest himself of nearly all his coin, precious stones and hoarded spirit stones had barely been enough to satisfy the old man. The wealth that had served him well before, the spirit herbs and rare pills formed from surplus product offered to him by apothecarist were of little interest to the old man.

“Bah! Then he obviously isn’t as good as he’s rumoured to be, what with the way you keep stroking that sword.” Yang Mu sniffed.

Tou He suddenly started laughing, making the pair look at him.

“What?” they asked in unison.

“Just remembering a friend of ours,” Tou He said, gesturing with the half-eaten bun between Wu Ying and him. “She’d have made the same joke about sword stroking, but unintentionally.”

Yang Mu eyes narrowed. “And you think I’m talking of his other sword?” She sniffed. “Why would I ever want to discuss that.”

Tou He smiled a little, but before he could reply – or be forced to reply – a voice called from the side. The trio turned to regard the approaching group of five, the army unit all dressed in similar, armoured, outfits. Each of the light, hardened leather plates they wore were both subtly different in design and significantly varied in format from the uniforms of the regular army personnel.

“Are you ready?” Colonel Huynh said.

“We are. Though perhaps we could be introduced to your companions?” Yang Mu answered, her gaze flicking over the other four. An even split among the others, two men and two women.

“We can talk on the road. We have delayed long enough,” Bich Trang said, clicking her tongue. Her horse moved to her command, pushing ahead and through the doors. It was as they were nearly a hundred feet from the doors and the hubbub around the gates had subsided that they sensed a disturbance behind them.

Wu Ying kept track of who noticed it first, his head bent low as he rode on his seat. The army unit’s scout was the first to notice of the others, his head turning all the way back. Whether alerted by the movement of her man or sensing it herself, Bich Trang was next.

Then almost simultaneously two others in the army unit, leaving the scholar who rode with a book opened before her in the end, and only because a companion grabbed the reins of her horse to stop it from riding into Tou He’s.

“Who is that?” Yang Mu asked, standing a little on the stirrups of her horse to peer backwards. She gave up as her steed shifted beneath her, annoyed at her movements and agitated by the crowd of other mares around it. Placing a hand on the neck of the horse and stroking it, she looked at Wu Ying for an answer.

“Why ask me?” he said.

“You’re telling me the wind has not told you already?”

Wu Ying offered her a guilty grin, eliciting a series of strange looks from the new members of their group. He shrugged to them all. “I speak with the wind, it sometimes answers me back.”

As though to contradict his words, a breeze woke up, sending leaves and dust swirling around them all and making their horses jerk and kick. All but Tou He’s, for his horse was just as placid as he himself. In fact, whilst waiting, the ex-monk had extracted a bag of plums to chew upon.

“So, who is it?”

“Captain Ky.” He cocked his head to the side as the wind drifted around him, whispering secrets. Eventually he nodded. “It seems he is packed for travel.”

“What is this?” Colonel Huynh snarled, spurring her horse back the way the Captain was. The pair slowed their horses down as they approached one another, the mortals on the road moving aside to give the pair of cultivators room.

Wu Ying waved a hand, dismissing the winds who insisted on bringing over their words. He needed not their exact wordings to understand what was likely being said. Instead, he eyed the four, before offering them a friendly smile.

“I am Long Wu Ying of the Verdant Green Waters Sect. It is a pleasure to meet you all, fellow cultivators. May the heavens smile upon our expedition.”

“You should have come on time,” one of the men said, eyes narrowed, his face thin and sallow and pinched. “If I had not noticed your earlier presence, it would have caused trouble with the fates, your early arrival. As it stood, we had to adjust our departure for you.

“Now that one…” He sighed, touching his belt. “Do you think I should start calculating the adjustments to our star charts?”

“I do not think-” Yang Mu began.

“I was not asking you,” the other man snapped. “I do not need an amateur to tell me how to do my job.”

Yang Mu stared angrily at the other, but chose not to reply.

“My apologies. Minh Trac has not been sleeping well. Being our formation master and fortune teller, Sargent Thi has not had much sleep since our assignment. Fortunes keep changing, he says,” said the other male in the group, the portly scout offering the trio a friendly smile as he clutched the strung bow with his other hand. “I am Bui Dinh Don.”

“There’s still no reason to be rude.”

“That wasn’t rude. If I was being rude, you’d know it,” Minh Trac snapped.

“Then perhaps you need a lesson in proper manners, if you did not think that was rude,” Wu Ying said.

“Picking on our weakest members already.” Moving her horse with just the touch of her feet, the last member of the unit shoved Minh Trac’s own mare back and put herself between him and Wu Ying. Her own massive guan dao whose wide, heavy metal shaft suited her overly large hand even as it shortened shaft made it easier to wield in the forest raised and pointed at Wu Ying. “Suits me well. I have wanted to test your blade.”

“Oh, Wu Ying…” Tou He said with a mournful note in his voice. “What is it with these women and your sword. You were such a quiet, respectful gentleman before. Now, look.”

“What are you implying… monk.” The polearm-wielder said that last word with a sneer, the tip of her weapon changing direction to point at the monk.

“I am Liu Tou He, Elder of the Verdant Green Waters sect. And I am no monk,” Tou He said genially. “Though I once treaded that pathway, it was in the end not mine.” Before she could answer him further, he raised his hand to offer the vine-woven basket of fruit. “Plums?”

“I will…” Guiding his own horse between the two, blocking off his own unit member, Dinh Don took three of the plums. He threw one to the fighter, forcing her to shift her polearm to balance herself out as she caught it rather than let it bounce off her chest. “Eat, Thien Giang. You’re always so angry when you haven’t eaten.”

“I’m angry because these fools dare threaten us…”

“And you too, Phuong Vy.” Dinh Don’s voice grew softer, more considerate as he offered the plum to the last member of the unit. She looked up from the manual she had been reading at her name, frowning at the plum offered to her.

“That’ll stain the pages.”

“Only if you don’t pay attention.”

“It’ll stain the pages.”

Dinh Don rolled his eyes in a good natured way. “You didn’t eat breakfast. Or dinner. Or lunch yesterday. You cannot subsist on just chi. And we’re on a mission. So put the book away and eat.”

Phuong Vy frowned, but eventually closed the book so that its pages would not stain, taking the plum with her other hand. “Fine. Only because we’re on a mission and the Colonel will be angry otherwise.”

Grinning in triumph, Dinh Don took a bite of his own plum, letting out an appreciative moan. “Good plum. Not in season now, though?”

Tou He just offered an enigmatic smile at that comment, refusing to comment.

A cantering noise nearby brought their attention back to the Colonel and the Captain, both of which looked unhappy as they arrived. The Colonel waved his hand down the road. “Let’s go. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

“Is he joining us?” Minh Trac asked, a scroll propped up on a small travelling case that sat precariously on his saddle.

“He is.”

“I’m going to have recalculate all our fortunes again,” Minh Trac growled, the I Ching compass in his hand. “You. What’s your birth date and sign?”

“I… what?” Captain Ky said.

“Birthdate and sign. Hurry up!”

Shaking his head, Wu Ying guided his horse to face forwards, murmuring a little command for the wind to help keep track of the belligerent Thian Giang. After all, he doubted their minor conflict was over yet. And in truth, he was not willing to let it go.

And if he was choosing not to pick at why he was so furious, that was his problem.