“Okay,” I said, rope in my hand, requisitioned from my little bag of convenience. “Nobody lets go of the rope,” I said. “Follow the person in front of you, don’t take any detours, don’t try to skip ahead.”

Lin Leng raised a hand. “I think I’m speaking for everyone when I ask this but where were you?”

“I’d…” I looked at the ground. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Did you, like, slip off from the stairs or something?” He asked.

“No,” Yu Jie said. “I’ve told you, already. She literally could not have. I kept my eyes on her, uh, her back constantly, and suddenly, she faded into the fog, and when I chased after her, I just saw Deng Ming.”

I nodded. “That’s probably how it would look like for you guys. I was walking up the stairs, almost slipped, which took my eyes off of Deng Ming’s back, but when I recovered, he was nowhere to be seen,” I turned to Yu Jie. “Neither were you.”

“Whoaaah,” Wei Chow muttered. “This mountain chain is creepy.”

I nodded. “Uh, this might sound weird, but if you see a door with a demon face on it, just turn around and leave.”

Deng Ming perked up. “Oh, so you were charmed to a different location?”

I shrugged. “Hell if I know. All I know is that there’s a guy up here who’s got this garden of trees, some of which are short, but one of which is…” I furrowed my eyebrows. “Holy shit, that thing was tall.”

“Uh,” Wei Chow said. “Are you alright?”

“And… he’ll insist on giving you fruit, and then he’ll start ogling you!” I yelled indignantly. “Then he’ll call you an abomination and demand his damn fruit back! But he won’t let you leave until he gives you something of equal value, but there’s nothing more valuable than the peach, but-“

Deng Ming’s eyes widened. “Wait, hold on. Hold on. Did you… no, I didn’t hear that right. What fruit was it?”

“A peach?”

He dragged his hand down his face, then turned to me, staring at me blankly. “A peach?”

“Yes, a peach.”

“And… and did you eat one?”

“No,” I said. “He said… it would be bad for me.”

“Kang Yilan, who was this man?” He asked frantically.

“He called himself the Divine Gardener,” I said. “Some sort of expert, I think. He made me fly, and held me still in the air.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay,” then he turned around and held up his map. “Let’s resume our journey.”

“Wait,” I said. “What was so special about him?”

He turned to me, eyes wide. “Trust me when I say this, Kang Yilan, but you don’t want to know.”

I turned to the others in our group. Yu Jie was just as clueless as me, along with Wei Chow, though I couldn’t tell if Lin Leng even cared.

I made eye-contact with the Monk, but the little shit just looked away, muttering sutras under his breath.

I took a deep breath and decided that yes, I did not want to know.

“Demon door,” Lin Leng said. “Don’t open it. Got it.”

“Wait!” Wei Chow said. “Could somebody tell me what the peach was?”

The Monk walked over to him and whispered it into his ear, cupping his mouth as he did so. Wei Chow’s eyes went wide, his face paling as he nodded. “Oh,” he turned to me. “You do not want to know.”

I shrugged. Whatever. Even if it was some kind of great treasure, I couldn’t possibly treasure something I had never even worked for.

Besides. “I don’t think it was such a raw deal,” I smiled, holding the palm of my hand out, facing the upwards. “Check it out.”

I willed Wood Chi to sprout from the palm of my hand.

And waited.

And waited.

Wei Chow peered over to my hand. Then he smacked it gently. Then he looked up at me, unimpressed. “I think it’s better if we just get off this mountain.”

I turned away from them to hide my blush, agreeing with all my heart.

I was so done with this mountain.

000

We slept one night in the mountain, burning through the cured meat quickly, then dipping into travel rations. Still, we could not shake off a particular mood which had kept us less animated than when we were still in the rapeseed meadows, enjoying the view of the ocean of yellow flowers.

We took turns keeping watch until dawn finally broke, and we continued our journey. The sun was still not visible from the heavy fog, forcing Deng Ming to play it by ear navigating the mountains.

Finally, finally the fog began to clear as we walked up another one of the incessant stairs, until the fog broke completely, giving us a clear view of sweet, blue sky, and the sun recently risen from the horizon.

Then, the pall that had been cast on us had finally dispersed, and we smiled once more, happier once Deng Ming had confirmed that we were heading the right place.

We kept above the fog layer, taking rope-bridges to different mountain peaks, marveling at the visual acuity which we had taken for granted once before.

When noon had broken, we let the heat of the sun bathe us as we took a break to eat and drink our fill on a plateau of a mountain peak. Lin Leng played the flute, Wei Chow treated us to some of his inexplicably high levels of singing.

Then, Bai Guo opened his mouth, and everyone was blown away…

“WhAt a jAsMIne brimmmmming wiTH bEAUTy!”

…by how inexplicably bad he was.

“Aw, shut it,” Yu Jie said, throwing a rock lazily at the singing oaf. It hit his head with unerring accuracy.

Bai Guo, interrupted mid sentence, nursed the place he was hit and looked down, slightly forlornly.

“Aw!” Wei Chow moaned in displeasure. “You got him all upset, now!”

For a guy so usually stoic, it was weirdly discomforting to see him so hurt. “Yeah,” I turned to Yu Jie, smiling ruefully. “I think you should apologize.”

“Ugh,” she turned to Bai Guo. “I’m sorry, alright?”

Bai Guo straightened and nodded stoicially. “I was not injured.”

“Your feelings were,” Lin Leng deadpanned.

“Don’t listen to ‘em,” Wei Chow said. He then patted the ground next to him. “Come over here, will ya? Let uncle teach you to sing.”

Bai Guo grimaced. “We’re almost as old as each other.”

“Bah, who cares,” he shrugged. “You want to sing well enough to woo all the ladies in the world? Come sit next to me and I will teach you how.”

“…All the ladies?”

“All of them,” Wei Chow assured. I scoffed as Bai Guo eagerly went to sit next to him. For the next hour, our relaxation period was interspersed between moments of beautiful singing, and Bai Guo sounding like he was torturing a cat.

By the end of it, he could hold a tune only for short durations before messing up inevitably. It made for a frustrating experience listening to him, but it was infinitely better than where he had once been.

It also helped that Lin Leng played an accompaniment that basically scrubbed away Bai Guo’s most egregious singing gaffes.

We were once again on the trail, taking the last staircase downwards, or at least that’s what Deng Ming assured us. The stairs disappeared into the hellishly grey fog, but I could see from where we still stood that, a couple of miles forward, the fog was dispersing.

Assuring myself that it would only be a couple more hours, I put one foot in front of the other, holding onto the rope that I had taken out, along the rest of the travel party.

Wei Chow was still hard at work teaching Bai Guo how to hold a tune. I was grateful for his attempt to lighten up the dreary mood, fending off the pall that was once more being cast upon us. Yu Jie was closer to my back, and I was closer to Deng Ming, doing my best not to get lost in the fog again.

When we finally came out from the fog of the Huangshan mountain chain, to a rain-forest, the beautiful sun shining down on us, skies blue as far as the eye could see.

And when Bai Guo sang…

“What a Jaaasmine brimming with beauty!”

…he was actually passably okay, if you, like, covered your ears a little and paid attention to other things.

He would get there in time. Like the Martial Path, no great thing could be accomplished in one day.

000

We made a camp at a clearing, with the backdrop of Bai Guo slowly learning how to sing, though the process was tedious for everyone listening. Meanwhile, it gave me time to introspect.

I didn’t get it. Why couldn’t I make trees grow from my body?

…Err, it sounded strange when I put it that way, but if the Flame-blessed Dragon of the East could generate fire at will, and Wei Chow could break through stone like it was sand, why was I still utterly unable to do anything that had anything to do with wood?

I learned ‘growth’ from when I fused with the Divine Wood inside my Core realm, and yet, it stubbornly refused to materialize outside of my body, as if I was still unable to externally express my Chi. Trees still remained trees when I touched them, unlike Wei Chow’s mastery over real Earth, and I couldn’t grow trees from my own body, so the method that Dragon used was not applicable to me.

Deng Ming had no answers for my difficulties, and neither did Wei Chow, Lin Leng or the Monk. Even Yu Jie was making headway creating platforms of Chi underneath her feet, but she was also suffering from the general shortage of Chi in her core, making the technique highly impractical for now.

I was going through the same exact issue as day one: every time my Chi exited my body, it stopped being under my control, and became unattributed heavenly energy again. Yu Jie told me that there was a constant battle to try and maintain ownership of the piece of Chi outside of your body, that if you faltered, the energy would go back to being unattributed.

For me, it wasn’t a battle.

It was like a grown up stealing sweets from a fucking baby. I had no actual say in whether I could keep the candy. It was just taken. I couldn’t resist.

And it drove me up the wall with anger, at the thought that my spirit was somehow unable to compensate for the way the heavens reclaimed my Chi, running roughshod over the little resistance I held up.

“I cannot in good conscience take away a gift, but I do suggest you not eat the peach until you have figured out your…” he gestured at me. “Bodily situation.”

Was that what he meant with bodily situation?

Was there just something wrong with me?

No. If there was, then Mentor would have told me, wouldn’t she? After all, if I did have some sort of crippling disability, then wasn’t that extremely important information to know about before one went to go ‘save the world’?

Shaking my head, I turned towards Deng Ming, still pouring over the map. “Are we on course?”

Deng Ming guffawed. “Are we on course? Of course we are.”

I rolled my eyes as I scooted over to sit next to him so I had a better view of the map. “So where’s the next-“

I stopped immediately, seeing his finger resting an inch or so from Huangshan. Another mountain was nearby, too. Taishan.

I clawed my fingers, trying to dispel the horrible memories of the place.

“The next stop?” Deng Ming asked. He ran his fingers through Taishan and a little further up ahead. “There’s a city where we’re going. We could restock there, and-“

“No,” I said. “We’re not crossing Tai Shan.”

“Why?” He asked. “It’s a faster route, and if we don’t take it, we’ll have to cross a swamp which literal noxious fumes.”

“We’ll make do,” I decided. “We’re not crossing Taishan.”

“You’re not making any sense,” he said, looking me in the eyes. “I’m telling you, this is the safer route.”

“And I’m telling you,” I said, my teeth gritted. “We are not crossing Taishan.”

He looked me in the eyes for long seconds before sighing. “I’m sorry, Kang Yilan, but I really do want you to give me a reason for why you’re not willing to take this route.”

The decision was obvious. If he really was so adamant on crossing Taishan, needing a reason to dissuade him, I would just continue to leave him in the dark.

I would take my childhood with me to the grave if need be. I could never be reduced to such a state again.

Never.

“Fine,” I said. “We’re crossing Taishan, but we’re not stopping if there’s a village. You hear me?”

Deng Ming looked concerned, but eventually, he acquiesced. “That is acceptable.”

“Good,” I said.

I didn’t take the first shift this time, opting to sleep my woes away. With the stressful inability of mine to eject my Chi outside of my body, as well as old ghosts coming back to haunt me, I didn’t have a very good sleep.