Chapter 132 (Patreon)

Bao Si naturally chose the emotional support sloth, so Chen Haoran was forced to go searching for Xie Jin bereft of his furry backpack. He was being dramatic in truth. He was going to leave Phelps in the room anyway. Walking around Reservoir Town with the sloth on his back was just tempting fate. His search for Xie Jin was exaggerated as well because when Chen Haoran walked down to the dining floor of the inn Xie Jin was standing by the door waiting for him.

They said nothing and left the inn. The light was fading into a purple dusk and lamplighters moved from light pole to light pole, screwing on glass jars filled with fireflies that glowed like lightbulbs. Unlike in Stonebridge, the streets of Reservoir Town bustled at all hours of the day. A curfew was apparently too hindering for merchants that arrived and left, whether day or night. With Reservoir Town being the center of the Pacification Committee and the Garrison, the Empire could afford to lapse on this bit of control. It meant that Reservoir Town was the first city in Zumulu that Chen Haoran had found to have a proper nightlife.

He and Xie Jin wandered the hustle, watching workers go to worker bars, soldiers go to soldier bars, and the merchants, depending on their means, split between merchant bars for the poor and finer dining pavilions for the well-off. It was one of these finer establishments that they went to. Chen Haoran dropped a wad of gold banknotes for a private room with a view of the streets and a bottle of Mortal-Rank Rose Wine that was apparently popular in the Central Region.

Xie Jin drank heavily from his cup without so much as a toast and grimaced. “I feel like I’m drinking perfume. How the hell can those Central Region posers stomach this?”

Chen Haoran took a sip and had to agree. It tasted like his rose baths smelled. Altogether he’d probably appreciate the bottle more if he dumped it over his head. Chen Haoran glanced over the menu and passed it to Xie Jin. “You see anything better?”

Xie Jin scanned the menu, and his eyes lit up. After spending a decidedly less amount of money compared to the Rose Wine, the server brought up a new rice wine in a clay jar. Xie Jin filled Chen Haoran’s cup, then his own, and they toasted each other. It was normal as far as alcohol went. For a regular person,  it would be considered strong. To Chen Haoran, he could drink it like water he so so chose. It was far behind the Ranked wines he’d partaken in every way. Yet it was pleasant. Bitter but in a way that enhanced rather than detract.  Chen Haoran enjoyed the taste and the moment he shared with Xie Jin drinking it.

Chen Haoran paused as he savored the wine. The flavor struck a chord of familiarity within him. “We’ve had this before, didn’t we? When we first entered Zumulu with that cattle driver.”

Xie Jin hummed a note of agreement. “The same. That guy had good taste. This is a wine straight out of the South. The bitter flavor comes from the poisonous plants used to brew it.” Xie Jin wistfully looked to the ceiling while nursing his drink. “Not that it’s actually poisonous. It’s only made with the weakest plants, and the toxins are neutralized during the fermenting. It’s so common here that it’s usually the first drink we offer to visitors. You’d think we were giving them actual poison, though, from the way they act about it. You’re the first I met who didn’t hesitate to take a drink from a Southerner.”

Well, that was born out of his complete ignorance, but he wasn’t going to spoil Xie Jin’s mood by saying that out loud. On the other hand, it seemed he didn’t need to say anything. The mocking smile Xie Jin wore faded into a thin line as he stared into his cup. As if the drink had somehow personally insulted him. They sat there in silence, nursing their drinks, watching tired new arrivals tug their carts to depots so that they might finally rest while teams that would depart in the morning had one last celebration before the hard journey ahead.

A group of excited Liquid Meridians in the middle and late stages brushed through the crowd without care and loudly entered an expensive-looking restaurant. A team of soldiers patrolled the street, breaking up fights should cultivators decide to escalate into more than something physical. They did not lack work. The friction created by power and alcohol meant tempers flared up more often than not. However, even those in the Liquid Meridians stopped short of actually releasing their qi or techniques. The one man bold enough saw himself taken down with furious force by the soldiers.

Xie Jin watched it all with such focus that he didn’t realize he’d finished his wine till he’d tried to drink twice and came back empty. When he tried reaching for the bottle Chen Haoran took it first and refilled his cup.

“Bao Si tried to tell me about your history,” Chen Haoran said. He ignored the way Xie Jin involuntarily tensed and refilled his own cup. “I told her I would hear about you from you directly. Will you tell me?”

Xie Jin stared at his cup with a faraway look. Chen Haoran folded his hands and patiently waited. Whatever wanted to be said would come on its own time in due time, even if that time wasn’t now.

“The process of creating Gu is called the Poison Jar Ritual,” Xie Jin finally said. “The most venomous Hell Bugs in Zumulu are gathered and sealed into a closed space where they devour each other until only one is left. All the toxins concentrate in that survivor, who’s then fed to silkworm larvae until again only one is left. That larva is typically raised into a Gu on its own or then fed to another desired host to become a Gu. There’s more to the ritual than that. Chants and spells and other traditions to fully complete the transformation, but that’s the gist of it. At least in the rest of Zumulu.”

“But the Black Bones are better,” Chen Haoran said.

A small smile graced Xie Jin’s dour face. “Yeah. The Black Bones are better. Once you have the last silkworm larva, the process is basically done. Feed it or raise it. The choice varies depending on the tribe. That’s not enough for us Black Bones though. Once we have the last larva we eat it.”

Chen Haoran blinked. “You what?”

“We eat it.”

“The super venomous larva. You just eat it?”

“Yes.” Xie Jin saw the look on Chen Haoran’s face and laughed. “It sounds insane, and it is. But by eating the larva and then feeding our infected blood to our chosen avatar, we create a much closer connection to our Gu. It allows a Black Bone Shaman to share in the cultivation of their Gu and vice versa.  More vice than versa, though. Of course, it’s an incredibly dangerous and painful process. The Gu poison immediately starts rotting the blood. That’s what gives our Gu their black color.”

Chen Haoran let out a low whistle. “That’s pretty metal.”

“I’ve never heard that expression before,” Xie Jin said.

“It means something intense or hardcore.”

“Metal, huh?” Xie Jin sounded out the word. “Yeah. I like that. It is pretty metal. Without the support of an experienced shaman and the tribe, the process is a death sentence. Everyone comes together to help save the newborn shaman.”

“And the shaman returns the favor by helping the tribe.”

Xie Jin nodded. “Precisely. You won’t find shamans as loyal to their people as a Black Bone is, nor Gu. A Black Bone Gu doesn’t return to the Tenth Green Hell after the death of its shaman. Instead, it sacrifices itself to cast a curse strong enough to lay low a cultivator an entire realm above you. We call it the Death Curse. If a Black Bone Shaman has resolved themselves to die, then it’s almost inevitable that they will not be dying alone….”

Xie Jin trailed off into silence after speaking. He hunched over the table. Peering into some past memory within his cup. Chen Haoran left him to it. He had the feeling Xie Jin’s Gu lesson was more for than just pride.

“Brother Chen,” Xie Jin said, not looking up. “Do you ever feel like you were born in the wrong place?”

Chen Haoran breathed in heavily. He calmly took the wine bottle, refilled his cup, and downed it in one go. He gently slammed the cup against the table, startling Xie Jin. “All the time, brother.” He refilled Xie Jin’s cup. “Tell me about it.”

“I’m not my grandfather’s actual grandson,” Xie Jin slowly said.

Chen Haoran frowned. “He still raised you, though, didn’t he? And from what I’ve seen, it seems he cares for you. What difference does it make if you’re not his actual grandson?”

Xie Jin looked at him gratefully. “Thank you, Brother Chen, but not being of his blood mattered to me. Compared to Ren, who’s his actual grandson and has a High-Grade Spirit Root, and Bao Si, who’s well…. herself. I was just some orphan my grandfather adopted after whoever my parents were sent me back to the Basin before dying.”

Chen Haoran held up his hand. “Wait, I’m sorry, Ren is Xie Ling’s grandson?”

Xie Jin huffed a laugh. “Ren is…. a bit strange. He’d rather walk around the perimeter of the Basin all day on patrol than do anything else. It’s why Grandfather raised Si as his heir. Of course, I was there too. Always learning less and being taught less than what she was.” Xie Jin’s grip on his cup tightened. “She was everything I expected a cultivator to be. Talented, valued, respected, and free to go wherever she pleased whenever she wanted. She was on track to be the youngest shaman in the Basin’s history. Meanwhile, I was never meant to be a shaman. Ever since I was young, everyone knew I wasn’t fit for it. Everyone except me, that is.”

Xie Jin took a long draw from his cup. Uncaring of the way the wine spilled and stained his shirt. “It’s the typical story. A young and ignorant boy wants to earn respect and make his dreams come true, so he goes and does something completely reckless without caring about the consequences.”

“The Poison Jar Ritual,” Chen Haoran said.

Xie Jin smirked. “Si is the second youngest shaman now. I don’t think she ever forgave me for that.”

“You did it on your own?” Chen Haoran asked.

“Unless you don’t count stealing the collected knowledge of my tribe, then yes, I did it on my own.” Xie Jin said. “I collected all the Hell Bugs and distilled the best poison I could on the slopes of Stake Mountain, then ate that larva whole. It’s a miracle I survived.”

Chen Haoran thought back to how Xie Jin began this conversation. It wasn’t purposeless. “You weren’t saved.”

“No,” Xie Jin sadly said. He touched his sleeve. “I woke up alone with my Gu. To this day, I can’t tell you what happened on that mountain or how I didn’t die. No one else knew what I had done until I walked back into the village, Gu in hand. That’s when I learned why no one wanted me to be a shaman. Even back then, I wanted to go out into the wider world. See all the sights that were to be seen and experience everything there was to be experienced. I only realized too late what kind of chains I wrapped around myself. A shaman who’s not there for his tribe is no shaman at all.”

“Even if you used your tribe’s knowledge, you still did all the other steps by yourself,” Chen Haoran pointed out. “That had to count for something.”

Xie Jin bitterly laughed. “Toward my execution, yes. I’m not well-liked by the other shamans, you see. They didn’t want our ancestral teachings to be used to create a potential rogue shaman. It’d be an insult to our tribe’s millennia of inheritance—a shame on the name of the Black Bone Shamans. Grandfather and Si had to fight like hell to save my life, and even after I was officially inducted, the tribe didn’t like the thought of supporting a shaman who might abandon them at any time. Of course, they were right to be wary. I was, in fact, planning to abandon them.”

“And that’s what led to you taking the Palace Exam?” Chen Haoran asked.

Xie Jin shook his head, his face a mess of helplessness and self-mockery. “I don’t know why I even bothered doing that. Si was completely right to call me out on it. I guess I wanted to see if more power could give me more answers. Do I betray my people and everything I was raised to believe in, or do I follow my heart? In a way, it was a good thing for that peacock prince to cancel the exams. He stopped that reckless boy within me from another terrible decision.” Xie Jin raised his cup to Chen Haoran. “Well, not completely terrible. I got to meet you, after all, Brother Chen.”

Chen Haoran didn’t raise his cup. He drummed his fingers on the table in thought. He’d been thinking a lot lately about many things: the world, Zumulu, the Chen Family, his Gifting Power, Bao Si, Xie Jin. Perhaps he was thinking too much, though. Maybe he, too, needed to let the reckless boy in him out.

“I was told before that when you advance in strength, a world of advantages opens up to you,” Chen Haoran said. “Speaking as someone lucky enough to have grown in power, I don’t believe it really gives you answers at all. In fact, I think the same questions that were beyond me as a Qi Realm are beyond me as a Liquid Meridian. Maybe even as a Crystal Transformation. We’ll have to see, though.” Chen Haoran reached into his storage bag and summoned a glossy green scroll to his hand. He placed the scroll on a table in front of a suddenly wary Xie Jin. “All that is just my experience with power. Maybe yours will be different.”

“Brother Chen,” Xie Jin cautiously said. “What is this?”

“You’re a Wood Spirit Root, right? This is the Depths of the Cloud Jungle Sutra, a Heaven-Rank cultivation method.”

“A Heaven-Rank….” Xie Jin’s voice was scratchy. He looked from the scroll to Chen Haoran with wet eyes. “Brother Chen, I can’t.” He covered his eyes with his hand. “Brother Chen, take it from my sight. I can’t. I can’t. Please. Don’t do this to me.” Xie Jin did an admirable job of hiding it, but his hand could not catch all his tears, and his words could help but hitch. “Brother Chen, I have nothing to give you. Please, take it back.”

Chen Haoran left the scroll on the table and instead emptied the last of the wine into their cups. “You’re a liar if you say you have nothing to give me because you’ve given me something I could exchange all my wealth for and still never receive—a good friend.” Chen Haoran raised his cup. “Xie Jin, I consider you to be the first real friend I’ve made in this world. If there’s anything you could give me, it would be the honor to keep being friends with you. Maybe even… sworn brothers?”

Xie Jin’s hand fell from his face and while his eyes were red and his cheeks still wet, it did nothing to stop him from giving Chen Haoran an incredulous stare. Chen Haoran awkwardly coughed into his hand. “Yes, well, um. I’m not really familiar with this, so I don’t know the etiquette involved. I don’t mind, though. Being sworn brothers with you. Unless you mind, of course. Which is totally okay if you do.”

“Brother Chen,” Xie Jin interrupted. He was laughing hard enough that fresh tears streamed down his face. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Trying my best,” Chen Haoran said. He shook his cup. “What do you say, Brother Jin?”

“What else could I say when you ask me like that?” Xie Jin lifted his own cup.

Chen Haoran went in for the toast….

….and hit nothing but air.

“No.”