The Fourth Stage - Chapter 24 preview (Patreon)

“And how was it?” Yang Mu asked, head propped up one hand. It was late in the evening, so late that if one squinted, Wu Ying would even believe that the rising sun might be spotted in the distance.

“The Elder’s library?” Wu Ying said, and receiving a nod, hummed in thought. “Enlightening.”

“I can still beat you, you know.” Yang Mu waggled a finger at him.

“Heh. Extensive then. More documents and manuals and treatises and works left behind by those who have achieved deep insight into their paths than anywhere else that I have ever had access to,” Wu Ying said. “Though most of it was useless to me, of course.”

“Because you don’t cultivate your soul”

“Well, sort of, but yes.’ Wu Ying said. He did cultivator his soul, but the Formless Soul method readied him to accept the changes in his Body. In this way, when his body itself achieved immortality, his immortal soul could slip within and inhabit it with minimal problems, submerging itself into the immortal form and achieving true immortality.

Till then, both body and soul were not truly immortal, holding traces of frail mortality.

“Could you not strengthen your soul otherwise?” Yang Mu said, curiously.

“Possibly, but that’s not my focus. I have other problems, right?”

“Yes, yes. I was just asking.” She then gave him an impish grin. “Did you get anything for me?”

“You know I cannot do that.”

“Hmmmphhfff…”

“Also, I’m sure nothing we have is as suitable as the method that your parents have, personally, acquired for you.”

“Are you saying I’m spoilt by my parents?”

“I’m just stating a fact. Your parents are not only powerful and rich, but also would wish the best for you,” Wu Yin said.

“Well, of course. I am their beloved elder daughter,” Yang Mu said, only a little humbly.

“Are you ever going to tell me what it is?”

“Nope!” Yang Mu answered immediately. Then, seeing the disappointment, she waved a hand. “It’s nothing to do with trust. My parents – and myself – are sworn to secrecy by the original owner. Even its name should not be spoken aloud.”

“Oh.”

“Nevermind that, what did you get? Or was it entirely useless? You seem too happy to have the entire trip be worthless.”

“I thought you wanted me to be happy.”

“I do, but I also want details.”

Laughing, Wu Ying reached for the wine cup and downed it. He made to refill the cup, only to find it empty. However, considering the lateness of the evening, he instead chose to secure more tea instead rather than call for more wine.

“The Sect has a number of works that were helpful. They’ve given me certain thoughts and hints about what I might do to deal with my problem.” He chuckled. “There’s nothing, of course, to do with a Wind Element. In fact, the entire Body Cleansing section is rather pitiful. Even with the addition of the work I had, it still was only a fraction of the works gathered for the others….” Seeing that he was losing her interest, he hurried on. “It had nothing for my element, but within the books that were there, there was both a Water and Earth Body Cultivation technique. It was in the Earth Body Cultivation technique that I found the clue.”

“Go on.”

“It’s hard to explain. The Earth Body Cultivation technique spoke of making one part of the Earth, imbuing ones body with an aspect of the ground. But the earth is not just one thing – it’s made up of myriad rocks and soil and materials. Part of the flexibility of the technique was in enabling a user to pick which to choose.”

“Could you then change it around?” Yang Mu said, interested. “Become as loose as sand one moment, then as strong as stone the next?”

“That was one option. It actually spoke of two major ways – one to change between aspects of the earth as you said. And another, taking the full strength and properties of a single element of the earth.” He paused, then added. “It was in the first that I found inspiration. For that constant transfer, that need to alter oneself, there were a number of common mistakes.”

“Good So what do you need to do?”

“There are a few cures. Transforming back to the initial problem element and retrying again is one,” Wu Ying said.

“Becoming the wind again?” she frowned. “I don’t think that is a good idea, not for you.”

“Not my first choice either,” he said. He did not mention the problems he was having even now, of how even cultivation and training had slowed down, the cleansing of impurities a struggle. “The second, often less successful method, is the use of alchemical baths and pills to transform the specific element appropriately. Breaking it apart, or restructuring it, if you will.”

“Less successful you say?”

“Yes. Often, I understand, because it’s so slow and the expense involved too high. Each bath was a small fortune in herbs.”

“And you’d need to adjust the particular bath to your element too.”

“Exactly. It’s still my preferred option.”

“You said second, so I assume there’s a third and fourth and maybe more options?” Yang Mu said.

“Just one more.”

She picked up her teacup, sipping on it. Content to let him speak it when he was ready.

“It’s the most dangerous method.”

“Of course it is.”

“It’s also the most painful.”

“That also is not unexpected.”

“We wield another element against the obstruction, destroying it contesting element against element. Purifying it, if you will.”

No surprise that she groaned. Or that Wu Ying shared her own hesitation. After all, he had been burnt once before and carried the scar to prove it.

***

Wu Ying served the tea, one hand holding the pot, the second steadying his first hand. Two hands, the way he had been taught by the woman before him. Jasmine and slightly burnt rice with a scattering of soaked tea leaves wafted from the liquid.  Heat radiated from the teapot, warming his hands as he settled the pot down with barely a clink on the wooden tea tray.

Two hands, to offer the cup to his friend, his elder and martial sister. Fairy Yang smiled, taking the cup gracefully, one hand shifting to cover it with her long sleeve as she raised it to ship. Dainty and beautiful, hiding the churlish act of consuming food and drink.

Wu Ying waited with bated breath for her pronouncement.

“Steeped too long by two minutes,” she announced at last. “However, the presentation was passable.” Eyes drifted down to the plates of food displayed before her, delicate cookies, wrapped steamed buns and sunflower seeds. “The snacks could use greater variety. And, of course, you’re missing Auntie Yee’s fried pancakes.”

“I am,” Wu Ying said. “I can’t, sadly, do much of that. No turning back time, not even for an immortal.”

“Now, I’m sure you didn’t come to visit me to receive criticism of your presentation skills. Which, after so many years, is only acceptable.”

He would have winced if he had been concerned about such niceties. But while he had studied the formalities of battle of courtesies, it had never held his interest. His weapons, unlike his martial sister’s, were sharper and more direct.

“Guardian Pang said to me…”

“You can stop right there,” Fa Yuan said. “Anything he said to you should be discarded as no more important than the barking of a wild dog.”

“Is that the way we should be speaking about a respected Elder?” Wu Ying said, archly.

“If you were still an inner sect cultivator, I certainly would not. Now that you’re the Head of your own department…” she smiled. “I can be more straightforward in my estimations and cautions.”

“Because I have, finally, reached the proper level of ostentation?”

“And because you’re holding the strength and soul of a Core Formation cultivator, one who has settled upon a dao.” She leaned forward, her voice lowering. “The battles now, they can come with sword and bow and spear, but as often; they might be words shot in the dark, missives left on the door to shake your belief in your dao.”

“I’m not a Soul cultivator though.”

“Are you not?” she raised an eyebrow. “Yet, you hold a Core within you and a Nascent Soul you feed your moments of enlightenment and experiences to. Your dao might not be as fixed as one who rose through Soul cultivation itself, your strength might come from your Body of Seven Winds… but you can still be diverted from your path, your sword forced to waver, your mind broken with a single well-placed sentence. Or why would you be here, speaking with me?”

Wu Ying lowered his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Hesitated.” She placed the teacup down. “I needed to tell you that, but I also know it’s in too deep now for a single sentence to dig it out. So. Tell me what it is that has brought you to me?”

“Karma. Fate, if you will and my effect on others.”

He stopped, letting her fill in the blanks if she so chose.

She did not.

Eventually, the silence grew too brittle and he broke it, his words coming in a rush. “He said that I was a calamity. A cyclone of destruction, tossing my friends around, causing them to be diverted from their path. That all those who had come with me, prodigies and those who were to be the strength of the sect had been deterred, their paths destroyed.

“He said, I’d hurt my friends.”

“Ah…” She sighed. “And finally, you came to me because I understand karma.” She raised a hand, turning one palm from side to side, as though weighing an unknown scale in her hand. “Because karma is what I understand, what I’ve made my dao. Just like our Master.

“And he struck you there, because you spent too much time with me and our Master, though the dao of karma in all its variations was never yours.”

Wu Ying felt an irrational sense of guilt from her words. Yet, his dao was never going to be about karma, no matter how much they would have wanted it.

“It matters not. We all our own paths to immortality, but for some, holding others from rising is what they desire, what they need.”

“And that is Guardian Pang’s objective?”

“No, not his. His malice is more subtle, more focused and altruistic,” she said. “He believes that we all must rise and fall together, and anything that diverts from that, any individual who tears apart the sect must be constrained.”

“And he wants me contained.”

“He wants you to fit into his worldview of the Sect. He wants you controllable,” she said. “Which is, of course, an attack for one like me.”

“Like me?”

“A wanderer. A breeze. A gale,” she said. “Controlling you is impossible. Perhaps even anathema to your very dao and existence.”

“Then, his words hold no truth? I have not affected the destiny of my friends?” Wu Ying said, hopefully.

“Of course you have.” Seeing his flinch, she added. “It matters not. We all do.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we are reborn, we bring with it the threads of fate and karma that were accrued in previous lives. Those threads pull upon those surrounding us, altering their path through this life. Sometimes, those threads are pre-destined – a son born to a father again, fated lovers being born in the same village and year. Other times, those fates are created anew by choice or chance. Pregnancies as the twist of fate pull individuals into new configurations,” Fa Yuan said. “By existing, we walter the flow of existence. By choosing to act – or not – we influence others.”

“Our Master felt such a binding unfair.”

“He did. He sought to cut himself free, but found himself trapped too by his beliefs and his honor, by courtesies and morals.” She shook her head. “He perfected the Sundering Blade, its inheritance which you carry in your own blade, in an attempt to free himself.

“But he could never find the timing, the moment when he could cut himself free of all his obligations. In fact, as he grew older, he found himself ensnared more and more by the vagaries of fate.”

Wu Ying found himself frowning in concern as he said. “But that’s not the path you’ve taken.”

“No. I believe in karma, in the threads of fate and see my path as one of balance rather than severing. A gradual balancing of the scales between individuals,” she said. “Not a complete sundering of all ties, but a repayment of debts and obligations.”

“A long road to journey, then.”

“But a fruitful one.”

Struck by a thought, he could not help but ask. “How deep is my debt to you?”

Eyes dancing with humor, she replied. “Do you fear it then?”

“No. But if I can help you balance it…”

She waved a hand, dismissing his offer. “You fear that you’ve twisted the fate of others, and you have. But that twisting of fate, those decisions, they would not have changed, would they? If you know what you knew then.”

“Some.”

“For your friends. The things you did – or think you did – to alter their fates?”

Wu Ying hesitated then. The question of choice arose once more, free will and accepting the results of ones decisions. “A few, but of the major decisions… probably not. I needed their help, to save you. I made the offer to Tou He in good conscience. Perhaps I might have warned him, but…”

“But…?”

“I also think he’s finding a balance himself.” Wu Ying said.

“Yes. And there is that, too, is it not? That we must – you must – trust in your friends to choose their own paths, to decide what is best for them and when to stop.” She leaned forward, speaking softly. “You’ll find that being a prodigy means little in the long run. That the world crushes our dreams and grinds down any initial favour granted to most.”

“To most?”

“There are some favoured sons and daughters of heaven who flounce through life, never feeling the impact of their decisions, riding the tide of good karma garnered over dozens of rebirths.” Fa Yuan said. “Thankfully, those few are rare as a phoenix feather.”

“And the rest of us struggle?”

“The rest of us struggle. We push ahead, or not. The prize in the end – immortality – is a prize only if one values it. Life is an existence of pain and tragedy and even immortality does not remove such trials and burdens. Sometimes, the relief of passing on, of putting the burden down for now is enough,” Fa Yuan said.

“It sounds, almost, like you’ve made your decision too.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m one of those fools who intends to continue pushing ahead. But my dao – it requires me to understand much, including other viewpoints. That some might choose to stop, that is but another viewpoint.”

“So. I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“No.” She shrugged. “No more than any mortal did. You are no raving demon, no moving catastrophe whose existence twists the fabric of karma and fate. You are just… mortal.”

The pair fell silent, the conversation coming to an end. He had asked, and she had answered, again and again and now, the wind cultivator could find no further way to seek reassurance. His mind was still troubled, but knowing that it was an attack, it helped him reinforce his own mind, his own decisions.

Perhaps it was time for him to stop attempting to pass judgment like the heavens, to accept the choices made by his friends and to wish them well. That was humanity’s gift and burden in the end – to choose and to suffer the consequences of such choices.

Move on or stay. It was the same to the heavens and the hells.

They waited for all.