David

The beating heart of the world was the Middle Continent - the center of both cultivation and culture. It was a single country ruled by the House of Zhu, in name and deed, but its most important cities did not belong to the Emperor. The Eight Linked Cities were unabashedly older than the current dynasty and the last - and some were older than the one before that. They were, instead, governed by the rule of power - no matter how it was dressed up. Power was the Nine Great Sects. Cultivation was power.

That was the story of the world according to Chan Changshou, a Core Disciple of the Clear Skies Sect and a fast friend. His counterpart, Li Qingshui, who was a little less biased and significantly more important, belonged to the Iron Scripture, who shared both a better relationship with the Dragon Throne and a poorly named, if well loved, highway. She claimed that old grudges and older debts formed an impenetrable bulwark against civil conflict. It was the only achievement of note by the current dynasty. The House of Zhu didn't seem very well respected.

David didn't really care much about any of these things - he was rather new to the country, after all. Unfortunately, he didn't quite have a choice, as he would be the sole representative of the Ascending Sky in the city of Huzhou in no time at all, for better or worse.

Senior Sister Hong's words echoed in his skull. "Make sure you don't start a war. That's the bare minimum. Whatever you sell by accident, whoever you marry by accident, whatever damages we have to pay, just don't start a war."

It wasn't particularly memorable or eloquent - she had just repeated it so many times he couldn't help it.

He also couldn't help the bit where he knew nearly nothing about either of the two major sects who ruled Huzhou jointly. Most of the facts he'd heard about the city were from Chan Changshou - few of them were flattering and even fewer seemed to be facts to begin with.

Huzhou was built on Immortal Lake, an unending source of clean water polluted by the blood of casinos and the fluid of whores. Not very flattering.

Song Mountain Sect was known for its beautiful disciples, predatory culture, the pursuit of fame over immortality and twenty five generations of mediocrity. Unkind and disrespectful, according to Li.

Tang Mountain Sect didn't actually exist - Huzhou was actually ruled by a single sect, and Tang Mountain was simply another bite at the apple when it came to joint decisions amongst the Great Sects. Flagrantly untrue, and also outrageous, as Chan himself had also mentioned having a friend from the sect. Of course, Alice had repeated the rumor to anyone who would listen in the name of entertainment.

By the time the carriage arrived at the shore of Immortal Lake, David had run through ten or twenty of Chan's out of pocket 'facts' - to the point where he started having dangerous ideas on how to casually slip them into conversation.

"We are arriving!" bellowed the middle aged woman who was driving the carriage. When she turned around, catching David's eye, he realized there were three jugs of red wine that were larger than his head under the driver's bench. As he watched, the woman added a fourth empty jug. Weren't all the other passengers not cultivators? David tried not to think about the narrower bridges they'd crossed - the ones that had been so thin only half a wheel balanced on the edge of either side.

Yanyan had 'woken up'. She continued to lean against him, humming what David assumed must have been one of Liu Na's songs.

As the carriage rolled up the very last bridge on the road and then descended on Huzhou, David could only wonder what the city had done to wrong Chan.

A few minutes prior, Immortal Lake had seemed almost far-away - as far as the mountains flanking it in the distance. Now, David realized that Immortal Lake was absolutely enormous. Song and Tang Mountains were equally far from where the lake met the road from Dongjing, but just as far away was Winds of Spring Tower should David turn around.

The road opened out onto a street paved in sand and stone that followed the edge of the lake. The carriage took an easy left turn, then immediately slowed to a crawl. It was crowded and it was loud. There were very few carriages and carts - just swarms and swarms of people. Most of them were young and most were headed in the same direction the carriage was headed.

It took a single glance at the crowd for David to identify the disciples of the Song and the Tang. Like the disciples of the Clear Skies in Dongjing, like the disciples of the Iron Scripture in Bei’an and even his own sectmates in Tianbei Valley, the cultivators who owned Huzhou were dressed in their city’s Great Sect colors and walked around as if they owned the place.

The major difference here was that none of the robes of either sect seemed to be standardized - the only consistent factors were the sharp Song reds and deep Tang blues.

The carriage painstakingly merged to the right side of the street over the course of minutes and rode along mere inches from the water.

The surface of Immortal Lake was as clear as glass and perfectly still, despite the hundreds of boats sporting sails of myriad colors.

Surrounding the lake were an impossible number of torches planted in the water on steel braziers just off the shore. They lit the lakeside street in a permanent warm sunset.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

David nodded.

“Those are Ten Thousand Torches of Huzhou,” said Yanyan. “When the Song and Tang split the city, they could only agree on one thing - that it should never want for light. They’ve agreed on nothing since - not even what the torches mean. Song Mountain claims that as long as the torches continue to burn, it means either of their immortal founders still live in the heavens above. Tang Mountain claims that the torches will burn out only when both sects fall and their legacies are forever lost.”

It was a nice story, but the Song the torches sung was remarkably similar to the Yin Fire Lamps back at the Ascending Sky. By contrast, the torches burned warm rather than cold. Every tenth torch had a group using it as a bonfire. Most skewered their fish with long branches and held them off the edge of the lake to barbeque them.

“Hold your horses.”

David turned his attention to the front of the carriage. Walking parallel alongside the driver was a strikingly beautiful woman in a hanfu. The wispy silk robe was the brightest red. Hanging from her left ear was a finger-length curved tooth of an animal David could not name and in her right hand was a short sword she held by its polished ivory scabbard.

The driver did not stop - she didn’t even notice.

The woman tapped the tip of the scabbard against one of the empty jugs of wine beneath the driver’s seat. The clattering of breaking pottery rang out through the night, instantly silencing the crowd around them.

That got the driver’s attention.

“Stop the cart. I won’t ask again.” The native accent of Huzhou was soft and fast, and pleasant to listen to, but did nothing to mask the threat in her voice.

The driver did as she was told immediately - her wrinkly hands gripped the reins so tightly her fingers went from the rosy red drinker’s flush to a stark white.

“What’s going on?” Yanyan whispered into his ear.

David shook his head.

The ambient sound of a citywide party still echoed over the surface of Immortal Lake, but the crowd around them seemed to sense that whatever they were watching could be a serious occurrence. The hanfu was the dress of a lady from the imperial court or the garb of a cultivator headed into battle.

Three disciples from different parts of the crowd who must have also belonged to Song Mountain Sect crept closer than the rest. Unlike the woman with the sword, they were clearly dressed to party. One of the disciples with bright eyes and a daring dress gave the passengers on the carriage a short wave and an excited smile. It was an effective antidote to the rising panic. She looked younger than Feiyan but with cultivators, age was a choice. Her movements were too still, too sure.

“Where did you start your journey?”

The driver trembled. “In Dongjing Central, Honored Daoist.”

The woman didn’t ask any more questions. She was examining the driver.

After roughly fifteen seconds, the driver’s fear reached a boiling point. “I’m employed here in Huzhou, by Thirty Dices Parlor, one of the branches of-”

“Quiet.”

Another silence. Yanyan caught David’s eye and he saw a deep, primal fear lurking behind them. Her upper lip trembled.

“What I can’t seem to work out,” said the woman, sounding for all the world like she was having a pleasant conversation over tea, “is how I’m certain there is a cultivator onboard your carriage, but I have no idea who they could be. And if you can’t tell me the answer, then I would have to-”

David stood. “That would be me.”

The woman stared at him up and down, then held her hand over her mouth. Her demeanor had changed entirely. “My, my. I’ve caused quite a scene over someone who’s only just chosen to stand.” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “Which amongst the thousand schools of our Eastern neighbor considers you a disciple?”

The disciple who had given the passengers on the carriage a wave tugged at the woman’s sleeve. “Junior Sister, you must have had too much to drink if you don’t recognize those robes.”

She turned to David. “A daughter of Song Mountain, Bo Yun, Learning, stares at the Sky.”

David assumed her greeting was about as respectful as it could be - the only time he’d heard that phrase had been when dignitaries from Xijing gave their greetings to Peak Master Ling at the entrance before the auction.

Unfortunately, each of the Great Sects had different arcane conventions and David had no idea what the proper response was. Learning. She sought Principle. That was all he had to work with. David inclined his head. “Please forgive this unmannered disciple. A son of Tianbei Valley, Ji Kang, Finding, greets Daoist Bo of Song Mountain, whose Fires will light the path, whose Resolve will shake the earth.”

David hoped his attempt to reference the universal symbols of the Fourth Realm wouldn’t somehow start a war.

To his surprise Daoist Bo inclined her head as well. “That is very kind of you,” she whispered. “The view from Sword Peak is the clearest view of all. An old saying that continues to prove true. Your eyes are sharp.”

David had no idea what she meant, and he wasn’t about to reach out for her Song to find out. Whatever she had liked about what he said was a pure coincidence.

Bo’s smile widened. “Now that you’ve been found out, would you be so kind as to come with us if you’re here on business?” She looked up at where the moon hung in the sky, and then flashed a conspiratorial grin at him and pointed somewhere in the distance, likely to where the carriage was headed. “Unless you were here to hear Sister Qiu perform.”

“I do have official business,” David said quietly. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you escort me to Song Mountain?”

Bo nodded. “I’ll make sure everything is worked out smoothly.”

David turned back to the carriage, where Yanyan was still staring at him, frozen in shock. “Maybe I’ll see you at the show!” he called out to her.

With that, the driver whipped the horses into action.

“You’re young,” said Bo, sudden and sure. She was right beside him. “Very young.”

They stood together, as the crowd moved in both directions past them.

Her eyes, an electric shade of azure, pinned him to where he stood with an unsaid accusation.

David nodded. “That’s what I’m told.”

Bo sighed and her gaze softened. “Then it can be excused. That was incredibly cruel,” she said.

David didn’t understand, but she expected this.

“In that mortal girl’s mind, the most beautiful boy she’s ever seen has responded favorably to the attention she’s given him. She discovers he is from the most renowned sect in the world and at the moment her fairytale ends, he makes a promise to seek her out.”

“I didn’t promise-” David started.

She shook her head. “I know,” she said, bringing a finger to her lips. David could only wish her eyes would be patronizing rather than sad. “But to her, that was the most ironclad guarantee anyone has ever given her, and she’ll remember it for as long as she lives.”

In that moment, David wished he didn’t understand, he wished he didn’t agree with this woman he’d just met. He felt regret.

“Follow me and hold your head up to the sky,” said Bo, back with that infectious cheer now that the moment had passed. “We walk the Path because we won’t let our mistakes define us. That’s what it means to cultivate, after all.”