Interlude: Lan Fen 4 (Patreon)

They came suddenly. The longship speared through the steam-covered river and set a reckless course to the island. There was no steering to avoid crashing nor any attempt to slow down. The Five figures on the boat stood utterly still as if they truly had no care in the world that they would destroy their boat and be buried under the river. Right as the prow of the ship was about to touch the rocky base the wizened old man standing at the head of the group made his move.

Bright, emerald green qi, flooded out in a ring and spilled over the edge of the boat into the water below. From the depths emerged large roots that broke the surface of the river and wrapped around the boat, completely halting its momentum and anchoring it in place. An ostentatious show of control. The meaning from her grandfather was clear. The riskiest outcomes with the thinnest of margins are all still well in his hand.

It was a message for her.

She tightened the grip on her sword. The reward she had received from the first of the White Tyrant’s trials. She could not unsheathe its edge, not yet.

Chen Haoran let out a low whistle next to her. He was different since near meeting with the kings of hell, relaxed and dark at the same time. He had become like those cemetery watchers who wandered between the tombs, singing tunes even when wandering around death and searching for the next cause. Whether it was because he was changed by the experience or it exposed something he had kept buried was unclear to her. It was frustrating because of her culpability in the matter. Had it been at the hands of the camp guards she would not feel this was. That was just the gamble of life, one that he had lost. Instead, it was because her foe had taken advantage of her complacency and Chen Haoran was forced to pay the price of it. She was both grateful and aggrieved when he killed Lan Qiangbei. Grateful because she had almost drawn her blade right then and there and almost ruined her plans. Aggrieved because it had once again stacked more debts toward him into her hands.

“I don’t remember Lan Yao being able to do that,” Chen Haoran said.

Lan Yao oh Lan Yao that peerless thorn. Down below, beside their grandfather she could see her cousin’s venomous glare. A snake would have suited her more than a flower. Had she been forced to expose her schemes to their grandfather? It was without doubt that the answer was yes. After she began doing real damage to the Lan family their grandfather would have forced Lan Yao to confess to all of it. While he might not always know what has been plotted it did not mean he did not know who was doing the plotting within his domain. Lan Yao always hated it when her plans were forced into their grandfather’s eyes. He never said anything which was the closest thing to mercy she’d received. Just her subterfuge being in his eyes was enough punishment itself.

Lan Yao. Lan Yao. The beginning did not start with her but the ending certainly would not have begun without her. Yet Lan Yao’s ending was not with her. No matter how much she wanted to pluck that thorn herself she could never. Not when the gardener himself would be watching behind the vicious flowers he raised.

“An effect caused by the condensation of the Earth-rank methods qi.” She said. “You should look forward to your own when you reach Liquid Meridian realm.”

“Fascinating,” he answered, but if he were still referring to her grandfathers power or his own future she could not tell.

“Chen Haoran.” He looked at her. Chen Haoran the new looked at her with the face of Chen Haoran the old. What a story for the ages! Never would she have imagined that her hated parasite would one day stand next to her on the eve of her most important battle. Though it shamed her to admit it even now she wondered if it would finally be time to peel away this mask he had put on and reveal himself to be the same scum that had so dogged her heels. That would be no more after today. “Please help me.”

He looked at her, surprise blooming on his face. She could see the strings connecting in his eyes. She knew what he was thinking. In the beginning she needed his help to start her battle. In the end, she needed his help to finish it. Another debt to him she would have to repay, but this one would be unfair to Chen Haoran because she would hate him in her heart after this. Not totally, not even viciously. It would be a quiet piece of her heart that she would lock so far away so that even she might forget about it in time. But it would be there, seething.

She should have killed Lan Yao before this but there was never an opportunity or she was faced with more pressing concerns. She couldn’t just kill her after killing their grandfather either. Killing Lan Jiang would be the end of this. If she killed Lan Yao afterwords it would only be hollow, and that was far more unacceptable than letting her die at someone else hand.

“Fen’er, will you not speak with your grandfather?” The diminutive pressed against her ears and tried to strangle her. No matter what victories she acquired, what titles she accrued, the level of her martial excellence. Her grandfather’s address to her would not change. It was his way of pruning. The Lan family was a garden of orchids and he was their gardener.

Her grandfather sighed. “Who taught you to be this rude?” He flexed his qi, Liquid Meridian realm Sixth-Layer. She gripped the hilt of her sword tighter. He had broken through. Manageable but just verging into her grandfather’s preferred realm thin margins.

Chen Haoran looked at her. She nodded back at him. He shrugged and hurtled himself off the island, falling parallel to her grandfather rising up. Lan Jiang arched an eyebrow at the person who was without a doubt the strangest participant in all this diving into a that was typically fatal for Qi realms.

Other Qi realms.

Her grandfather crested the top of the island and scarcely settled on the ground when a thunderous crash of wood sounded from below. Shouts and the accompanying noises of combat soon followed along with the groaning of the ship. Her grandfather did not look back. She turned around and entered the bathhouse, she did not need her sense to know her grandfather followed her. The sized of the exterior belied the fact that the inside of the building was just a single giant room. The empty basin sat as a shadowed crevice.

“I must say Fen’er while I knew we would one day face each other like this, the way you have arrived here as exceeded my expectations.” Lan Jiang speaks kindly as if he were a normal grandfather and not the gardener. It is both a farce and truth, the gardener only spoke kindly so that the flowers would grow. “Do you have anything to say to me?”

“I will slit your throat and drain your liquid qi into this pool.”

Her grandfather clicked his tongue. “Still so rude. You were much more precise with your words before.” He half-turned his head behind him, to where Chen Haoran and Lan Yaowere fighting. “Was it that boy?” The threat is clear but her grandfather will not go after Chen Haoran.

Not while she is standing.

She lets go of her sword. The motion isn’t hidden from her grandfather, it was hard for the petals to distract the man who planted the soil and nourished the roots. Every child of the Lan family would be taken from their families for two years to be trained by her grandfather. The good became great, the mediocre became useful. All became the gardener’s flowers.

Tyrant’s Progress

She rode lightning and appeared before her grandfather in a flash.

Heaven Splitting Claw

Her two most powerful combat arts, backed by a Heaven-ranked Ninth-Layer Qi realm cultivation. It is Lan Fen in her strongest state. Were the old her set in front of her the current her would be able to kill five. For her it is possible to attack that legendary stage. To defy the heavens and cross one realm to do battle in the next. This is the peak strength of the warrior Lan Fen.

The gardener flashes his emerald liquid qi. Her attack tears into a jungle that suddenly appeared and disappears into its depths, never to be seen again. The emerald qi disappears and her grandfather is standing in front of her with a smile on his face. The absolute strongest of one realm is little better than the weakest of the next. Her grandfather is not weak.

“Well done Fen’er.” Her grandfather applauded her. “I see now why your father was so obsessed with you.” Kind words that prune even the most stubborn stems. Her grandfather has never used a blade and yet he has always carried one in his mouth. “I have seen your growth and your efforts have exposed many weaknesses in the Lan family. We have much to go over when we return.”

She knew he would say this. Knew this and yet she let out a startled laugh all the same. “You would still take me back after the harm I have done to the family?”

“Every garden requires some care so that it may grow stronger than before.” He was still smiling kindly.

The wind shifted. The steam rumbled. Cold air blasted Lan Fen’s face and whipped her hair.

“Fascinating is it not?” Her grandfather mused. Unbothered by the change in weather. “When I led the last expedition to discover the source of these sudden Frost storms do you know what we found?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “A pool.” His voice grew thick with wonder. “A cold pool, the coldest place in the cavern, perhaps the coldest place in all the Clearsprings Mountains. Surrounding it is a snowstorm that only ever ceases once the pool releases all the cold qi it has built up. A very beautiful, very dangerous place.” He held out his hand to her. “I will take you there one day.” A myriad of promises twisted into a single bouquet of a sentence.

“I will go there myself.” The Frost storm was an accident in her favor. A trick of fate sending her favorable weather. Even her grandfather would not want to be caught in the Frost storm despite his new power. In the ruined bathhouse, the only shelter was down but the river was too far from them to dive deep enough. That only left the pool.

Except she didn’t need the Frost storm to lure her grandfather in.

She gripped her sword and fell back into the darkness of the basin. “You didn’t grow this flower,” she whispered.

It was too loud for her grandfather’s ears because he was gone and replaced with the gardener who reached out to her with a claw-like hand.

In the garden that is the Lan family all the flowers are raised by the gardener for two years. Those flowers who are green and just like him become his greats. Those red, blue, and yellow flowers become useful. One year there was a white flower. The gardener took one look at the thorns of this plant and deemed it a weed. He had no time for it because he had just welcomed the most beautiful green flower to his garden. After two years this white flower left the garden and under the care of a tall green tree bloomed. The tree had become a gardener too with his little white flower. There was only room for one gardener in the Lan family.

The day Lan Fen beautifully bloomed and defeated Lan Jiang’s prized Lan Yao was the day her father died.

Lan Jiang stepped into the basin and Lan Fen spat out several long dead words. The carvings lining the basin lit up red and began to bleed light.

“What have you done?” Lan Jiang cautiously asked.

“You have lived in the Bathhouse for so long now, have you not wondered about the origin of these pools?”

The bleeding red light dripped into the air and covered the top of the pool with a crimson film. Lan Jiang immediately tried to jump out but was rebounded by the crimson barrier. He slammed to the ground and bound up without a scratch but much warier.

“Right where we are standing old Liquid Meridian realms would fight to the death and become Mourning pools within this basin.” Lan Fen sneered. “I just so happened to meet an old ghost here who knows how to use it.”

Lan Jiang looked horrified. Lan Fen savored it. Then she pulled out her sword and the world turned white.