Immortal Connections - Chapter 5 Preview

Chapter 5 - Yang Mu

The august Silver Merchant, she of abundant contacts, trade routes and connections and from whose fingers flowed the bounty of multiple kingdoms tried to stifle a sigh that threatened to escape her lips, the third in as many hours. 

Yang Mu enjoyed being feted and dined, unlike her lover – former now, perhaps, though that was a wound so fresh that it still bled. Wu Ying’s departure had always been fated, his ascension always likely. His leaving was never something that she could have, or would have, stopped. In truth, her heart burst with gratefulness that he had managed to escape this mortal coil of pain and regret, but it did not make the leaving any less easy to bear.

Her new grief was partly to blame for he impatience at the celebrations that featured her as the guest of honor. Or replacement guest of honor as it may be, since that was the other reason all this grated upon her. Unable to access Wu Ying, they had chosen her as his replacement, ladling upon her all the well wishes and desires they had.

Like her current companion. “Of course, we always intended to give him access to the mystic realm. And if he returns, we would be happy to see to his needs in any manner. As a small token…” A gesture back, to the pair of storage chests awaiting her perusal.

Keeping a smile on her face, Yang Mu repeated for the umpteenth time that evening the same sentence. “I shall pass on your well wishes and thoughts, should I ever see him again.” And then, thankfully, they withdrew, leaving her alone for a moment to contemplate the city wide celebration.

Near her, in the city hall that had been bedecked in garlands and banners and lanterns of the most elaborate sort, the surroundings were packed with immortal cultivators from the four clans that made up the city of Nanyue.  Even now, in this time of celebration, the four clans sat in separate groupings, glaring at one another over full cups. Each time a new dish - as sponsored by each clan - arrived, a cheer and polite clappings and the loud smacks of overly enthusiastic consumption of the meal would arise from the sponsoring group.

Musicians, drawn from various members of the clans that specialised in these arts took turns below the stage, each attempting to outdo one another in skill, technique and zest. Dance troupes took to the stage itself, flowing through graceful pirouettes and energetic routines in equal order, all competing for that most illusionary and elusive treasure - prestige.

Yet, that was but the town’s central hall. Outside, celebrations ran through the entirety of the city, loud and boisterous and sponsored by each clan. Unlike the overly formal, overly polite and ritualized dinner and celebration within the hallway, the guarded celebration, outside the mortals partied with gay abandon. Coin flowed without end, as coffers were opened all across the city in celebration of that rarest of events – the ascension of a cultivator to immortal.

Ah Ying’s success was a story being told and retold in bars and kitchens and street corners alike, the process and his struggles growing ever more elaborate. Scholars scribbled down each tale as best they could, while ambition sparked in the eyes of the young and old alike.

More than once, in the riotous explosion of enthusiasm and joy, a mortal found a trace of enlightenment on their path to the Dao and grasped it, breaking through to a new level of cultivation. The pursuit of the Dao – the greater way that was everything, the philosophical and underlying reality of the universe – and the lesser conceptualisations that mortal minds could encompass was often stymied by life, random fate and tragedy. 

At the same time, as evidenced today, opportunities abounded. If one was willing to grasp it. Something that her present hosts were fully aware of, in their pursuit of her favor.

“Cultivator Yang, I understand that you seek the dao of connections?” Elder Chang, one of the heads of the four clans said. “While we do not have any particular treatises involving that conceptualization of the world, we were once gifted a magical item that holds a minor portion of karma and fate in it. It comes in three parts and is said to be based off some western superstition.”

A small gesture had an attendant stepping forward, a large wooden box at least three feet across but only a couple of inches deep presented. Yang Mu raised a hand towards the box and at the other man’s nod, touched the warm and dark wood, pushing against the metal latch to release it. Within the box, a pair of scissors, a drop spindle and a ball of unfelted wool lay. Even lying there, she could feel the way they pulled and twisted at karma, setting senses honed over decades of life on edge. As unseen colors and disturbing lights began to creep into the corners of her vision, as the hum and click of a thousand thousand bones arose and the smell of fresh blood and rotting corpses rose up, she snapped the lid shut, cutting off the growing clamour.

“Ah, you sensed it?” Elder Chang said, carefully.

She turned and stared at his face, searching for signs of deceit, of knowledge or malice. Instead she found concern and apprehension. “Tell me more about this gift.”

Rather than the flush of victory that she might have expected, for she had dismissed more costly and extravagant items with but a murmured word of thanks, he blanched. He covered his mistake quickly, but his reaction was all the more fascinating, for one who had survived so long in the halls of politics.

"Ah, well. You must understand, it was given to us by one who needed to use the mystic realm. Unlike Honored Immortal Long, he was not successful. So we only have the barest details about the origins of the work itself."

"Go on."

"Yes. Well, he actually acquired it from another who in turn had produced the trio of items whilst in the midst of a crafters crafting frenzy in a period of enlightenment. Supposedly, they were pursuing a dual-twinned dao of artisanal works and karma, seeking immortality not just in exquisite works of beauty but in themselves." At her impatient look, Elder Chang stopped temporizing. "Well, during this period, he'd heard a story originating from the barbarians in the west. Of three women, who dictated the fate and future of every man and woman born. Weaving, measuring and then cutting such lives."

"There is no measuring string or tape," Yang Mu said.

"True." Elder Chang opened then closed his mouth, offering a shrug to indicate that he had no further information to provide.

She fell silent, staring at the box that was still held by the attendant. The enchanted items had a deep connection to her and her dao, or perhaps it was better to say that her dao her a deep connection to the concepts embodied in the items. Whoever the crafter had been, when he produced it…

“Why did he sell something so potent?”

“I know not about the crafter, but the gifter…” Elder Chang grimaced, admitting quickly. “I only have stories, from my father to guide me. But he was supposedly quick to gift it away, more than happy to do so. Even now, even contained…” A glance at the box, before Elder Chang continued. “Well, there are portions of our treasury that are rarely traveled to. This box was part of it.”

“And you gifted it to me?” An amused smile.

“It suited you, does it not?” 

“Yes, yes it does.” Brushing fingers along the edge of the box, she pulled it into her storage ring for safe keeping. She would look into it later. After all, there were more gifts to be received, and though it irked her to be feted and gifted in his stead, she had a war to fight and could not afford to turn down their generosity.

In that, both she and Wu Ying were similarly practical.