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“And then,” said Chan Dishi, howling with laughter, “he just looks around at everyone and says, ‘Go home.’ Like he was dismissing annoying servants. It was magnificent! Oh, you should have seen the faces of all those sect cultivators. Half of them looked like they were going keel over from fear, the other half looked like they wanted throw themselves at him. The very best, though, was Feng Bai working so hard to keep a neutral expression that he looked like he was constipated!”

The cultivator’s laughter became almost uncontrolled as he bent at the waist and started slapping his leg. While Jing could appreciate a little of the humor in the moment, he wasn’t as certain that aggravating the patriarch of the Steel Gryphon sect was going to be a good thing for Sen in the long run. Those two had, at least according to semi-reliable rumors, found themselves at cross purposes twice already. That Sen still lived suggested that he had been the victor both times. Feng Bai wasn’t a man known for his calm, patient personality, which made it all too likely that he was looking for a way to get back at Sen. Although, that was ultimately a secondary concern for Jing, as he knew that there was almost nothing he could do to prevent that.

His sister, Yu Ming, had been very clear with him about the line between the mortal world and Jianghu. Sen had been equally clear, even if he’d described it in very different terms. Cultivator conflicts were, ultimately, outside the purview of any mortal authority. It was something that both irked and relieved Jing. It irked him because those conflicts often boiled over and resulted in damage and death that did become his problem. It relieved him because the power of even an individual cultivator was often incomprehensible. A fact that had been driven home all too clearly by Sen’s little display outside of the city. The displays today, though, were a problem for Jing. He doubted that Sen had considered all of the consequences or likely even planned half of what he’d done.

By all reports, though, Sen turned what had been the Xie manor into some kind of cultivator citadel. That was going to make waves because, according to tradition, no noble manor was more heavily fortified or defended than the royal palace. By turning his manor into that kind of a fortress, though, Sen had come within a hair’s breadth of informally declaring himself the king. That Sen was wholly unaware of that fact would not be known among the other noble houses. They would read it as a blunt declaration of strength. A declaration only reinforced by the way that Sen had simply expelled all of the Xie family into the city to suffer whatever Karma decided to throw their way. Some had sought refuge with other houses. Most had found those doors firmly shut against them. The few who had managed to talk their way into shelter had found that shelter summarily withdrawn after Sen’s very public renovations. For the moment, at least, no one wanted to tempt the wrath of Judgment’s Gale.

“Tell me about the new walls again,” said Jing.

“Oh man, those things practically reach to the sky now,” said Chan Dishi in an obvious exaggeration.

“Really?”

“Well, no, but they’re pretty damned high. And he lined them with these massive metal spikes that just radiate qi. I don’t what they do, but I bet it’s brutal.”

“Of course, because why settle for a blunt statement when you can make death threats with your home?”

“I know, right! I’ve need to buy that guy a drink and pick his brain. I thought I was good at intimidation, but I’ve clearly got some things to learn.”

 

***

 

Feng Bai paced in his office, ignoring the increasingly concerned looks he was getting from Elder Yi. He’s growing too fast, thought Bai. Where in the world did Ming find that impossible child? It had been bad enough the last time the boy had been in the capital openly. He’d wanted to punish the boy for his impudence but found himself forced to back off twice. The first time, Lu Sen had done something no one had done in a long, long time. That resolute little shit had stared him in the eyes and called his bluff with a threat that clearly wasn’t a bluff. That kid had been ready to murder Tang Ehuang right in front of him, and they both knew he could get it done. It would have been his last act in life, but Bai had seen it in the kid’s face. He was ready to make that trade.

The second time, he had demanded to know how the boy had killed Tong Guanting. He knew in general terms what the kid had done. He’d used poison of some kind, but that wasn’t enough to work out the method. That method was information that, as a nascent soul cultivator, Feng Bai considered his right. That was an opinion that Lu Sen had not shared. Bai didn’t think the kid even realized how much scorn had been in his voice when he’d told Feng Bai to earn the knowledge for himself. It had been like getting chastised by one of the core formation cultivators from his own sect. It been a close thing, then. If Lai Dongmei and Jin Bohai hadn’t been there, he probably would have killed Lu Sen, Ming’s student or not.

It was only months later, when his temper had finally cooled back to something like sanity, that Feng Bai had been brought around by Elder Yi. Lu Sen owed the Steel Gryphon Sect no loyalty, let along secrets. In fact, the sect had wronged him repeatedly. Bai had been forced to admit that it was only good fortune that had kept Ming from stopping in for a chat that would have destroyed the countryside for about two hundred miles in every direction. It had also become clear that, at the time, Lu Sen had been running on pure bravado and a near-suicidal disregard for his own life. Long experience had taught Bai that you couldn’t force someone in that state of mind to do anything. You could kill them, but that was all you could do to them. Things had clearly changed since then.

Where the boy had been talented before, he was powerful now. He’d erected defenses for that manor that could rival those of some of the sects in the city. Even Bai didn’t understand half of what that boy had done. Jaw-Long’s influence, no doubt, thought Bai. It went deeper than that, though. That core formation child had been working with forces that Bai had only started to touch on in the past few decades. There was a part of him that thought that the best thing that could happen for everyone in the world was for Lu Sen to die, now, because Bai foresaw a time in the not-so-distant future when no one would be able to stop that boy.

 

***

 

“That was rather exhilarating, don’t you think?” asked Lai Dongmei.

“I thought it was a bit ostentatious,” said Tu Nayao, a sullen note in her voice.

Lai Dongmei offered the woman a mild look of disapproval. The mood in the sect had blackened ever since word arrived that Judgment’s Gale was back in the city, or back in the city officially. She knew that he’d been in and out of the capital a few times over the past few years. She’d even had one moment of annoyance with the young man. If he was going to be in the city, it would seem that he could take the time to say hello. When it became clear that he was making an effort to go unnoticed, and that his occasional visits rarely lasted more than half a day, that annoyance had vanished. If he went anywhere near a sect, or the palace, or even to visit that friend of his… Lai Dongmei tried to recall the woman’s name. Lo Meifeng, she thought. That was it. If he went near anything resembling a formal power structure or someone too familiar, his visit would stop being casual and become official instantly.

Now that he was here publicly, she had rather expected him to visit quickly. He was a young man, and Lu Sen had been very enthusiastic when last they met. Certainly not the most skilled lover she’d ever had, because nothing could replace centuries of practice. What he had been was so correctable. Always open to suggestions. It was as if he left all that stupid male pride at the bedroom door. That had been an aphrodisiac all by itself, and he was so very nice to look at. She was also well-aware that his departure had been a cause of celebration in the sect. All of those hopeful men and women had thought that they had a chance. She even briefly entertained the idea of taking a lover, but it obviously couldn’t be anyone in the sect itself, and finding someone outside the sect was just too much effort. Besides, she was an almost absurdly busy woman. Granted, she might make running a sect look easy, but it wasn’t easy. It took constant management. There was always some minor crisis happening. Some mistake that needed to be corrected.

After seeing what the man had done earlier that day, though, she understood why she hadn’t seen him. Dismantling a noble house and claiming it for himself must have taken some serious planning, to say nothing of negotiation with the king. Lu Sen was reported to be friends with the king, but she had thought the death of the old king and how it came about might have strained that relationship. If it had, though, Jing had gotten over it. And then that display with putting up defenses. It had been positively delicious. Feng Bai had looked like he was swallowing lava before he’d gotten his expression under control. She was going to cherish that memory for the rest of time. As for Sen, well, he’d been strong for his advancement that last time they met, but that had been a naked show of force that exceedingly few cultivators in the capital could match. On top of which, it had been a lesson in what perfect control looked like. He wasn’t even a nascent soul cultivator yet and was already doing things that would have strained her control.

As much as she’d enjoyed that show, she was more ambivalent about a cultivator noble house on this side of the Mountains of Sorrow. It could be problematic, or it could turn out to be nothing at all. It really depended on what Sen’s plans were. She’d need to talk to him about it. In private. Preferably in her bed. Perhaps she’d need to arrange a meeting. She had been invited to that thing with the foreign cultivators. It was an empty gesture on the king’s part. The patriarchs and matriarchs never attended, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t attend. The idea amused her. Ignoring all those fawning nobles while distracting Sen with outrageous suggestions could be fun. She’d need just the right attire, though. Something elegant. No, she thought. Something elegant and provocative. She started searching through her wardrobe. I might need to get something made.

Comments

Wes Brown

So good.

BigFun

Is there any family tie between Dishi and Yu Ming? They seem to share a family name, unless Yu Ming assumed a false name during her travels outside the city.

ericdontigney

No. It's best to just always assume that there are zero familial relationships between people unless it's mentioned on the page somewhere. For reference, in China the family name Chan is a bit like Smith or Jones in the US.