David

The lamps in Three Worships Hall were ornate little things constructed of milky white mutton-fat jade. Naked flame burned wicks positioned over pools of the clearest oil. They were set in sconces along the walls of a mostly circular room that had been cut into the mountain, much like the atrium at Earth Peak. These lamps, numbering in the hundreds, cast a bright, slightly yellow glow over the hall. There were nearly no shadows, even beneath the spindly raised chairs carved of some hard wood - teak, if their color could be believed.

By the light of the lamps and his good looks, they made the man who'd called out to David seem larger than life, like a movie star at an award show under a spotlight.

"It is I, Wen Cheng, the wrongly cast-out disciple of the True Sutra, who has found new life with the august and storied Song Mountain Sect!" He swept an arm in front of him, presenting Three Worship Halls.

"Greetings, Path Friend," said David. He was suddenly tired. "I was under the impression that the beauties of Song Mountain all happened to be women."

Behind him, Daoist Bo tittered. "Wen, here, is my newest project," she said. "Song Mountain hasn't had a male debut in living memory. How did the two of you come to meet?"

David found it difficult to answer. Three Worships Hall was as large, if not larger than the atrium of Earth Peak. The lights and lack of sound made David acutely aware of the hundreds of eyes on him and Wen. Most of the eyes weren't particularly friendly. Caught in this thought, David found himself hoping that he wouldn't say anything that could potentially clash with whatever story Wen must have told the daughters of Song Mountain when he was inducted into the sect.

"He saved my life!" Wen said cheerfully, not worried in the slightest. David peered at Wen and he could hear the sound of the Song for just a moment.

When David had first met Wen on that boat going up Sky River, he'd known nearly nothing of cultivation and hadn't met many cultivators. He'd barely observed qi at all - either within others or within the natural world. David hadn't noticed it before, but behind the sound of flutes and clashing swords that comprised Wen's song, there existed a little echoing click that seemed to reverberate past the room, upwards and outwards.

"And Brother Ji here, along with his lady love, hopped onto the boat without even bargaining with the boat captain!"

David had heard this click before, or something like it - a pattern he'd heard mostly strongly in, of all people, Alice's Song. David's eyes found the bare altar at the center of Three Worships Hall and he heard Uncle Jiang's voice in his head. But nobody has karma with the Fourth String.

"And of course, when we first met, we nearly came to blows, as is the case with all good friends!"

Wen had always put forth this happy-go-lucky personality, but on that night, sailing up Sky River, his face had darkened as he spoke his innermost thoughts to strangers. The Palaces will come for you as surely as they will come for me.

"But then, the captain turned out to be a fearsome pirate with no small cultivation! He was a runaway from the Still Waters Sect, a practitioner of the Dancing Waves Scripture itself! Daoist Ji and his companion saved me after the pirate ran me through with a sword!"

David could still remember the sound of Jing's ribs snapping and the shick of bone skewering his organs, could still remember the sudden look of rapture on Alice's face and the way her lips tasted of iron and wine when she kissed him. Had it only been a few weeks since the demise of that boat captain?

“How peculiar,” said Bo. She seemed to be one of the few people in the room who had remained interested. The volume had slowly risen as the disciples of Song Mountain had gone back to what they had been doing before. Bo gave David a somber nod. “I must thank you for saving my disciple. It may not have been true at the time, but Wen Cheng will be my successor.”

David suddenly wondered how important Daoist Bo was in her sect. “Your successor?”

She nodded. “When I’ve released my coming album, I will close my doors to the world and enter secluded cultivation. If I find what I Seek, then the Earth shall know my name as well.”

Even the nicest cultivators were incredibly melodramatic.

“Of course the Earth will know your name,” said Wen. “You’re Bo Yun! Even in the Southern Continent, we sing your songs.”

“I’m far too old to be charmed by a young man.” Bo gave Wen a light pinch on his cheek. Wen blushed. She turned to David. “Now that you’ve had a chance to catch up, we should make this delivery quickly.”

As Daoist Bo led David across the room, they approached the altars. Bo nodded quickly at all three of them, in order - Heaven to the right, Earth to the left and then Karma between them. As they drew ever closer, David realized there was a pair of unassuming doors against the wall between the altars. Bo pushed open the door between Karma and Earth.

As the door closed behind him, David noted that corridors that tunneled through mountains seemed to be a popular design in sects. This one was also unnaturally quiet, like the corridor in Earth Peak. Unlike that corridor, the lights weren’t cold and white like the yin-fire lamps, but continued to be that bright, sunny, yellow candlework of Three Worships Hall.

There were many doors along the corridor here as well, but these doors were made of thick, transparent glass. Behind them were the disciples of Song Mountain in groups of many sizes - in pairs, in fours and more. Behind one of the doors, a girl who was alone gave David a wink and wave, one hand in the air and the other on her hip. She had big brown eyes, an ink-black ponytail that ended at her waist and a contagious smile.

“Few outsiders get to see the recording studios of Song Mountain,” said Bo, who returned the gesture to the girl. They both pointed at one another and chuckled. The girl said something to Daoist Bo on the other side, but the glass was heavily soundproof. She went to open the door, but Bo shrugged, shook her head and waved again, then dragged David along with her down the corridor. “Isn’t she cute?”

David nodded as politely as he could.

“You don’t have to be all stiff and proper when you’re inside of Song Mountain. Everyone knows they’re beautiful here,” said Bo. “And while your Fairy Guan might be considered the most beautiful woman in the world, there isn’t a man, woman or child, of any age or cultivation, who doesn’t go wild when a beauty of Song Mountain waves to them.”

Their steps clattered along the well-illuminated grey stone of the corridor. Song Mountain was deep - they’d walked for nearly a minute and a half now and still the corridor stretched on without an end in sight.

“In this world, everything a cultivator possesses is a weapon, young Daoist,” said Bo. “Whether it is knowledge, power or love, there is little that can’t be used as an armament against the skies above, even if only as motivation.”

David nodded, unsure of where Bo was headed - both in action and by word.

“We don’t normally let outsiders see the inner workings of Song Mountain,” she continued, “and we are, indeed, one of the Great Sects.”

David frowned.

“What do you think of Liu Na? I would like to hear the truth. She is one of my students, after all, and I would like to guide her properly.”

David thought back to the girl who’d rushed out of Three Worships Hall - her wide, purple eyes, the wispy air of a cultivator who could fool only a mortal into believing she was fragile, her long limbs, her high cheekbones–

“I don’t like her very much,” said David, plainly. “She was-”

“Rude and dismissive. She believes herself to be a generational talent, but if I look to the disciples of the Ascending Sky or the Iron Scripture, I find her wanting, to say the least.” Bo sighed. “I’d hoped you would find her attractive. She has no one to blame but herself for her attitude.”

David’s frown deepened.

“I’d hoped you would be easily smitten by her, like you were by that mortal girl on the carriage I’d pulled you off of.”

David felt a creeping sense of shame, because he’d forgotten the name of the girl already.

“I brought you into the bowels of Three Worships Hall because I’d hoped you’d be impressed by our sect and that you’d say yes to a proposal of alliance.” Bo sighed again. “But, alas, we’re not too impressive, are we?”

David, who liked Daoist Bo, shook his head instinctively. “You have a beautiful sect,” he tried.

“Spare me,” she said. “We are so bereft of talent that we’ve snapped up Wen, with the hope that he wouldn’t end up somewhere better.”

“But he’s very talented,” protested David.

“Yes, but he’s also a man. He might only be twenty two, but is this not ridiculous? A sect of the continent’s foremost jade beauties, who doesn’t boast the most beautiful woman in the world and recruits a man? Is this some mortal’s fantasy?”

Bo pushed open a door. Inside the room was a large desk and a scale. There was a girl sitting behind the desk - she’d dozed off. Her feet were propped up next to the scale and her wooden stool tipped dangerous at an incline.

“Shishi!” Bo barked.

The girl jolted awake with a start. The sudden movement tipped her over and she fell to the floor with a series of loud clatters of wood hitting stone. The girl landed with a heavy thump.

“Master Bo!” Shishi shrieked, tears flying. “I’m so sorry!” Her eyes found David and she instantly righted herself. “Who’s this?” Her voice deepened into something huskier and she batted her eyelashes. She was about as old as Feiyan, so this only seemed comical to David.

“Our friend from the Ascending Sky, here to deliver fourteen and a half liang of dried Duzhong flowers,” said Daoist Bo, rolling her eyes.

“But I want to go to the concert,” Shishi whined.

“And I would have let you, if you hadn’t fallen asleep at your post,” said Bo. She turned to David. “The flowers?”

David reached into the pocket behind his left breast and drew from it a little cloth pouch - it had previously been carried by Sister Hong, but she’d passed it along to him when they were in that tea shop in Dongjing.

Shishi snatched it from him. “I’ll be making sure you northerners aren’t cheating us,” she said, turning up her nose.

“Shishi! This is an honored guest!” said Bo, throwing up her hands and rolling her eyes again. “I’m so, so sorry,” she said to David, shaking her head.

Shishi pouted and turned the pouch upside onto the desk.

Immediately, bright orange dried flowers began to tumble out of the pouch.

“You idiot!” Bo shouted, but the damage was done. In her shock, Shishi had let go of the pouch and as it fell to the ground before her astonished eyes, the volume of the flowers doubled and tripled as it left the pouch. In just seconds, the three of them were up to their knees in flowers.

David stared. Bo pinched the bridge of her nose. Shishi sneezed.

“You’re cleaning this up and weighing it,” promised Bo. Shishi muttered apologies as fast as she could under her breath, looking anywhere but into her master’s eyes. Bo turned to David, looking absolutely exhausted. “Come along, I’ll treat you to a bit of Song Mountain hospitality - dinner and a show. Do you like music?”

David nodded as Bo dragged him out of the room. When Bo’s back was turned, Shishi screwed up her face and stuck out her tongue at him. David pointed at the pool of flowers on the ground and smirked.

When the door was firmly closed, Bo began to lead him back towards Three Worships Hall. “If you like music, then you’re going to love my student’s singing. Maybe you’ll even fall in love with her. We can hope!”

David heavily doubted it.