Lei Jianyu considered himself a patient man. Thus, when the chieftain had offered to instruct him in the ways of zhóuyŭ- incantations- he’d expected to ride on his fortitude and innate talent.

Oh, how wrong he’d been.

“Again!”

His teacher- though no self-respecting teacher would torture their student like this- seemed to enjoy it all. He couldn’t tell whether she’d learned her craft through commanding the warriors of her village, or by moderating the village council.

Probably both, he thought, chuckling mirthlessly.

The worst part was, the exercise he was failing at so miserably was trivial. Or at least, it would have been, if his eyes could still see.

The thing about blindness was, you found it difficult to read cultivation manuals. Or anything, for that matter. The one he struggled with today demonstrated how to properly execute hand seals- an essential part of a mage’s arsenal.

“If you can spare enough breath to laugh, then your breathing must be too easy. Slow to two breaths per minute.”

Jianyu groaned internally, but he’d learned his lesson. And so he struggled in silence, weaving gestures to maintain his shoddy qingong technique, barely breathing enough to maintain consciousness, let alone to coax qi out of his scarred dantian.

It was common knowledge you needed to breathe to cultivate. The exercise trained breath control and efficiency by requiring minimal qi usage.

If he’d been a normal, healthy cultivator, it would have been easy. His education had taught him there was only one way to manipulate qi- and it could certainly not be done directly.

The latter assumption still held true; the complexity of his incantations was tripled by the need to isolate his soul from the qi he manipulated. Fortunately, aura only counted as indirect influence, and so Jianyu continuously released spiritual energy into his surroundings, only to be captured by his aura and repurposed.

But with every degree of removal came a dramatic loss of finesse. Cultivators, with a single degree of removal, typically infused qi with their will, giving their imagination form. Mortals, who lacked the density of qi necessary for will imbuement, struggled with even basic attribute enhancement.

As for Jianyu? Three degrees of separation made him the weakest member of Foundation Establishment in the written history of the Lin Yan plane.

Thus, Jianyu’s efforts were akin to telling a child to catch fish with a sword. His spiritual energy rarely did what he wanted it to, his aura was weak enough that zhóuyŭ was difficult, and it was not the right tool for the job.

“Patience, young one. The Buddha spent 6 years searching for enlightenment. That’s longer than you’ve been a cultivator. Again!”

It was at that moment that Deng Huan appeared, his expert use of qingong allowing him to enter the clearing and come to a complete stop without even disturbing the hair on his head.

“Perhaps the young practitioner could use a break. To… reflect and meditate on your teachings.”

Jianyu didn’t need eyes to know the doctor stood bowed with hands clasped in supplication, honeyed words and subservient demeanor all in an effort to persuade the chieftain to pause their training. He’d devise a reason for such a pause, only to deviate from that plan in favor of mischief.

Perhaps once he would have cared, but Jianyu was thankful for any break, no matter the reason. His taskmaster drove him to the point of exhaustion, in spite of his enhanced constitution.

Jianyu’s teacher would feign consideration before giving in, and he’d depart with the doctor- the heavens knew not where they’d end up.

An incense time later, after he’d changed robes and cleansed his aura, he stood alone with the doctor.

He couldn’t sense his teacher’s aura though, so he asked Deng Huan.

“She has village matters to attend to,” he responded curtly.

“Where are we going?”

Deng Huan chuckled ominously. “To a tomb of old, where dead men lay.”

The shrine was benign for a secluded mountain village. There were no catacombs or vengeful ghosts, only the occasional rodent or scurrying insect.

“What do you see,” asked the doctor.

Despite his poor choice of words, Deng Huan hadn’t made a joke at his patient’s expense. Jianyu’s Energy Vision had evolved after he went blind. It was more piercing than typical for his stage, and offered greater clarity. Even a Core Cultivator like the village elder lacked a more potent ability.

Thus, his Soul Sight was an aptly named technique. It allowed for constant peripheral awareness and the ability to focus on a single target, just like mundane vision. The aura of a soul was analogous to color, different shades of soul ‘stuff’ indicating affinities.

Simultaneously, it was more. The frequency at which the target soul ‘vibrated’ was an indicator of temperament. The alternate dimension in which souls existed had been a frequent topic of lectures during his days as a sect disciple, but losing his physical sight had allowed him to gain new insight on his ability.

But when even his enhanced ability failed to provide details, the novice spellcaster furrowed his brow.

“It’s… power overwhelming, and yet calm at the same time.” Try as he might, the novice practitioner could barely detect his own surroundings, so powerful was the aura coming from the shrine. “Is that the soul of the Oracle?”

“Very good! Yes, that is the Great Ancestor’s soul you sense. By severing her spirit, she was able to tether her soul to this shrine, and she watches over us to this day.”

Jianyu held his breath, fearful that the doctor would launch into yet another village history lesson.

Thankfully, his luck held.

“What about affinities? Can you detect any?”

Jianyu shook his head, willingly admitting his inadequacy.

“Apologies, but may I use zhóuyŭ? I can’t peer that deep unassisted,” asked Jianyu respectfully. Despite the old adage, that time heals all wounds, a chasm remained between his current self and the power he’d once possessed.

“Of course,” replied the doctor, Jianyu oblivious to his smile.

He uttered a handful of alien words, guttural and harsh.

“Huh. A dual casting of increased focus and reduced sensitivity. Creative solution.”

Jianyu hadn’t been aware of the doctor’s knowledge on incantations, though it made sense, given his life-partner.

The transformed energy of the world rushed through him, and his awareness shifted. He could no longer feel the flow of blood through his arteries, nor the minuscule bursts of lightning qi traversing his body, nor even the passage of tainted qi through his crippled meridians

Instead, his mind was filled with the all encompassing presence of a soul older than the kingdom he hailed from. The potent mysteries of Death, and Fate overwhelmed his mind.

His awareness vacated his body, and somewhere far away he heard Deng Huan cry out in alarm.

But that was neither here nor there, and he had more important things to do. What those things were, he didn’t know in the moment, but it didn’t matter. A small part of his mind fought, clawed, refused to give in, but it was too weak to do so.

“Be at peace, child. I do not seek to destroy you.”

The voice was thick and soothing, like a warm blanket on a winter night. But he didn’t trust his instincts, and he certainly didn’t trust this presence.

He turned towards the voice, opening his eyes-

I can see?

Color exploded into his vision, and he was faced with what could only be an Immortal.

Loose purple robes embroidered with gold inlay hid the figure of a petite woman with skin only a shade lighter than his own. A full smile lounged below a button nose and eyes shaped like almonds.

His resistance faltered as his concentration broke, and the unfamiliar aura overwhelmed his defenses.

Instead of harming him, the aura bolstered his senses to the point of detecting its origin.

“Greetings, young cultivator- or should I say mage errant? How exciting!”

Too stunned to speak, Jianyu simply stood in place with a stupefied look.

“Shy, are we? Well, I suppose it’s not every day you meet the Shadow of an Immortal!”

Part of Jianyu’s surprise was due to the Shadow’s eccentric personality. Immortals were forces of nature, with perfect jade skin, power beyond mortal comprehension, seldom orating except in riddles, and merciless in thought and deed.

Yet here he was, in the presence of a real Immortal, and yet-

“Shadow.”

What?

“You said- or thought, anyways, that you were in the presence of an Immortal. I am merely the Shadow of an Immortal.”

She can hear my thoughts?

“Oh no, not at all. I simply peer into a parallel future in which you voice what you are thinking! Some simple arithmetic helps me time my responses.”

Jianyu failed to see the difference.

“Luo An, hurry up! We have a visitor!”

Is someone else here with-

“INITIALIZATION AT 72%. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BYPASS STARTUP AND DIAGNOSTICS? WARNING: BYPASSING STARTUP PROCEDURE MAY LEAD TO CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE,” thundered a monotonous voice.

The origin of the voice was decidedly inhuman, resembling nothing Jianyu had ever seen; a single mechanical eye centered the construct while quicksilver flowed slowly down the channels in between columns of complex runic script.

“Bugger off, you piece of junk.”

“DIRECTIVE UNCLEAR. WOULD YOU LIKE TO-”

A well placed fist from the faux-Immortal brought silence.

What was that?

“Oh don’t worry, that’s just my Arbiter. He’s low on energy after such an extended period of dormancy.” The Immortal’s Shadow sighed deeply, and she looked longingly above her. “How many aeons have passed,” she whispered.

Jianyu couldn’t discern what she was looking at, but for a single moment, he saw the weariness behind the Shadow’s joyous facade.

“Where are my manners,” she exclaimed. “I am the Shadow of the Immortal Su Kang, the All-Seeing.”

She gestured a single hand towards the vast expanse, her robe trailing the motion.

“And this is my inheritance.”

Lei Jianyu considered himself a patient man. Thus, when the chieftain had offered to instruct him in the ways of zhóuyŭ- incantations- he’d expected to ride on his fortitude and innate talent.

Oh, how wrong he’d been.

“Again!”

His teacher- though no self-respecting teacher would torture their student like this- seemed to enjoy it all. He couldn’t tell whether she’d learned her craft through commanding the warriors of her village, or by moderating the village council.

Probably both, he thought, chuckling mirthlessly.

The worst part was, the exercise he was failing at so miserably was trivial. Or at least, it would have been, if his eyes could still see.

The thing about blindness was, you found it difficult to read cultivation manuals. Or anything, for that matter. The one he struggled with today demonstrated how to properly execute hand seals- an essential part of a mage’s arsenal.

“If you can spare enough breath to laugh, then your breathing must be too easy. Slow to two breaths per minute.”

Jianyu groaned internally, but he’d learned his lesson. And so he struggled in silence, weaving gestures to maintain his shoddy qingong technique, barely breathing enough to maintain consciousness, let alone to coax qi out of his scarred dantian.

It was common knowledge you needed to breathe to cultivate. The exercise trained breath control and efficiency by requiring minimal qi usage.

If he’d been a normal, healthy cultivator, it would have been easy. His education had taught him there was only one way to manipulate qi- and it could certainly not be done directly.

The latter assumption still held true; the complexity of his incantations was tripled by the need to isolate his soul from the qi he manipulated. Fortunately, aura only counted as indirect influence, and so Jianyu continuously released spiritual energy into his surroundings, only to be captured by his aura and repurposed.

But with every degree of removal came a dramatic loss of finesse. Cultivators, with a single degree of removal, typically infused qi with their will, giving their imagination form. Mortals, who lacked the density of qi necessary for will imbuement, struggled with even basic attribute enhancement.

As for Jianyu? Three degrees of separation made him the weakest member of Foundation Establishment in the written history of the Lin Yan plane.

Thus, Jianyu’s efforts were akin to telling a child to catch fish with a sword. His spiritual energy rarely did what he wanted it to, his aura was weak enough that zhóuyŭ was difficult, and it was not the right tool for the job.

“Patience, young one. The Buddha spent 6 years searching for enlightenment. That’s longer than you’ve been a cultivator. Again!”

It was at that moment that Deng Huan appeared, his expert use of qingong allowing him to enter the clearing and come to a complete stop without even disturbing the hair on his head.

“Perhaps the young practitioner could use a break. To… reflect and meditate on your teachings.”

Jianyu didn’t need eyes to know the doctor stood bowed with hands clasped in supplication, honeyed words and subservient demeanor all in an effort to persuade the chieftain to pause their training. He’d devise a reason for such a pause, only to deviate from that plan in favor of mischief.

Perhaps once he would have cared, but Jianyu was thankful for any break, no matter the reason. His taskmaster drove him to the point of exhaustion, in spite of his enhanced constitution.

Jianyu’s teacher would feign consideration before giving in, and he’d depart with the doctor- the heavens knew not where they’d end up.

An incense time later, after he’d changed robes and cleansed his aura, he stood alone with the doctor.

He couldn’t sense his teacher’s aura though, so he asked Deng Huan.

“She has village matters to attend to,” he responded curtly.

“Where are we going?”

Deng Huan chuckled ominously. “To a tomb of old, where dead men lay.”

The shrine was benign for a secluded mountain village. There were no catacombs or vengeful ghosts, only the occasional rodent or scurrying insect.

“What do you see,” asked the doctor.

Despite his poor choice of words, Deng Huan hadn’t made a joke at his patient’s expense. Jianyu’s Energy Vision had evolved after he went blind. It was more piercing than typical for his stage, and offered greater clarity. Even a Core Cultivator like the village elder lacked a more potent ability.

Thus, his Soul Sight was an aptly named technique. It allowed for constant peripheral awareness and the ability to focus on a single target, just like mundane vision. The aura of a soul was analogous to color, different shades of soul ‘stuff’ indicating affinities.

Simultaneously, it was more. The frequency at which the target soul ‘vibrated’ was an indicator of temperament. The alternate dimension in which souls existed had been a frequent topic of lectures during his days as a sect disciple, but losing his physical sight had allowed him to gain new insight on his ability.

But when even his enhanced ability failed to provide details, the novice spellcaster furrowed his brow.

“It’s… power overwhelming, and yet calm at the same time.” Try as he might, the novice practitioner could barely detect his own surroundings, so powerful was the aura coming from the shrine. “Is that the soul of the Oracle?”

“Very good! Yes, that is the Great Ancestor’s soul you sense. By severing her spirit, she was able to tether her soul to this shrine, and she watches over us to this day.”

Jianyu held his breath, fearful that the doctor would launch into yet another village history lesson.

Thankfully, his luck held.

“What about affinities? Can you detect any?”

Jianyu shook his head, willingly admitting his inadequacy.

“Apologies, but may I use zhóuyŭ? I can’t peer that deep unassisted,” asked Jianyu respectfully. Despite the old adage, that time heals all wounds, a chasm remained between his current self and the power he’d once possessed.

“Of course,” replied the doctor, Jianyu oblivious to his smile.

He uttered a handful of alien words, guttural and harsh.

“Huh. A dual casting of increased focus and reduced sensitivity. Creative solution.”

Jianyu hadn’t been aware of the doctor’s knowledge on incantations, though it made sense, given his life-partner.

The transformed energy of the world rushed through him, and his awareness shifted. He could no longer feel the flow of blood through his arteries, nor the minuscule bursts of lightning qi traversing his body, nor even the passage of tainted qi through his crippled meridians

Instead, his mind was filled with the all encompassing presence of a soul older than the kingdom he hailed from. The potent mysteries of Death, and Fate overwhelmed his mind.

His awareness vacated his body, and somewhere far away he heard Deng Huan cry out in alarm.

But that was neither here nor there, and he had more important things to do. What those things were, he didn’t know in the moment, but it didn’t matter. A small part of his mind fought, clawed, refused to give in, but it was too weak to do so.

“Be at peace, child. I do not seek to destroy you.”

The voice was thick and soothing, like a warm blanket on a winter night. But he didn’t trust his instincts, and he certainly didn’t trust this presence.

He turned towards the voice, opening his eyes-

I can see?

Color exploded into his vision, and he was faced with what could only be an Immortal.

Loose purple robes embroidered with gold inlay hid the figure of a petite woman with skin only a shade lighter than his own. A full smile lounged below a button nose and eyes shaped like almonds.

His resistance faltered as his concentration broke, and the unfamiliar aura overwhelmed his defenses.

Instead of harming him, the aura bolstered his senses to the point of detecting its origin.

“Greetings, young cultivator- or should I say mage errant? How exciting!”

Too stunned to speak, Jianyu simply stood in place with a stupefied look.

“Shy, are we? Well, I suppose it’s not every day you meet the Shadow of an Immortal!”

Part of Jianyu’s surprise was due to the Shadow’s eccentric personality. Immortals were forces of nature, with perfect jade skin, power beyond mortal comprehension, seldom orating except in riddles, and merciless in thought and deed.

Yet here he was, in the presence of a real Immortal, and yet-

“Shadow.”

What?

“You said- or thought, anyways, that you were in the presence of an Immortal. I am merely the Shadow of an Immortal.”

She can hear my thoughts?

“Oh no, not at all. I simply peer into a parallel future in which you voice what you are thinking! Some simple arithmetic helps me time my responses.”

Jianyu failed to see the difference.

“Luo An, hurry up! We have a visitor!”

Is someone else here with-

“INITIALIZATION AT 72%. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BYPASS STARTUP AND DIAGNOSTICS? WARNING: BYPASSING STARTUP PROCEDURE MAY LEAD TO CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE,” thundered a monotonous voice.

The origin of the voice was decidedly inhuman, resembling nothing Jianyu had ever seen; a single mechanical eye centered the construct while quicksilver flowed slowly down the channels in between columns of complex runic script.

“Bugger off, you piece of junk.”

“DIRECTIVE UNCLEAR. WOULD YOU LIKE TO-”

A well placed fist from the faux-Immortal brought silence.

What was that?

“Oh don’t worry, that’s just my Arbiter. He’s low on energy after such an extended period of dormancy.” The Immortal’s Shadow sighed deeply, and she looked longingly above her. “How many aeons have passed,” she whispered. Jianyu couldn’t discern what she was looking at, but for a single moment, he saw the weariness behind the Shadow’s joyous facade.

“Where are my manners,” she exclaimed. “I am the Shadow of the Immortal Su Kang, the All-Seeing.”

She gestured a single hand towards the vast expanse, her robe trailing the motion.

“And this is my inheritance.”