The Fourth Wall - Chapter 22 preview

Later that afternoon, as they sat on their horses, Yang Mu was laughing softly as she read over the document entrusted to her by Wu Ying.

“Is this your new career then, Ah Ying? Matchmaker?” she rolled it up and stored it along with the spirit crystal that had an embedded image of the young lady in her storage ring.

“Well, it was either that or an old lech.” Wu Ying sighed. “And I fear, I would make a lousy one.”

“Oh? You too good to be an old pervert?” she said, teasingly. 

“Oh yes. I grew up with my martial sister. And then, of course, I met you.” He shook his head, sorrowfully. “With such beauties around me, how could any other expect to compete?”

“You...” Yang Mu shook her head. “You are dangerous, Ah Ying.”

“He is. Sometimes, his tongue is sharper than his sword,” Tou He said, coming out of his funk.

“Ah, he lives!” Wu Ying grinned. “Surely it wasn’t that bad.”

“I begin to understand your decision to hide from such people.” Tou He’s lips pursed. “They remind me of Guardian Pang and his machinations. But without the facade of at least being an ally.”

“What happened?” Wu Ying asked, concerned.

“What didn’t? Everything from bribes to offers of marriages. Women and men throwing themselves at me – subtly at least – and then offers of donations to temples or setting up a charitable house for beggars. Anything and everything they could think of, really.”

“What for?” 

“An alliance. To stay with them, at first, but eventually they even tried to bargain for a lesson.” The man frowned as he leaned over his horse, patting it gently a little as it skipped a bit at the unexpected shift in weight. He continued as he kept the patting, calming the creature down. “They felt… desperate.”

“Not often you meet a wandering Nascent Soul cultivator.” Wu Ying cocked his head to the side, continued. “It’s also uncommon for them to be unaffiliated already within the kingdom, or easy to access. Or note. A single lesson might push their people months if not years ahead, if it was the right kind of lesson.”

“I doubt they’d gain much from me moralizing about ethics and their obligations to those beneath them.”

“You never know,” Yang Mu murmured. “I had the feeling a few of their clan members were of similar view, planning to walk the same pathways of responsibility and obligation as some of our esteemed Elders have.” Then she kicked her horse ahead, coming up to them. “But tell us, how did the reeducation go of the three?”

Tou He let out an unsatisfied grunt. The pair did not push him, wiling the time away by watching the rolling forested hills around them, enjoying the tranquil peace of the moment. Eventually, as the sun began to set, he spoke.

“It was harder than I expected. So much hate and dislike and jealousy and petty feelings, all of them looking to prove their way was better. As though a minor difference in style and interpretation of a cultivation manual would make such a difference.” Tou He’s voice dropped, frustration leaking in as he continued. “And the injuries and deaths!”

“Deaths?” Wu Ying said, surprised. 

“Yes Foolish challenges that got out of hand, but when it involves sons and daughters of the important…” Tou He sighed. “Thankfully, it was years ago; but the bad blood remained.”

“So…?” Yang Mu said.

“It took months, to break down their resistances. To make them think, rather than just feel.” He sighed. “I had to break one of their cultivation bases, shatter her aspirations because she had built an edifice of pride and arrogance. She will never rise further, though at least we managed to seal the cracks in her core.” 

Yang Mu looked surprised, casting a glance over to Wu Ying who rode beside her. He offered the slightest of nods, as though such actions were expected. In a way, they were. His friend was gentle and kind and cared for others, but his interaction with the heavenly flames had changed him. Order and the greater good was important to him and where an earlier, younger man might have chosen to spend more time or seek alternatives, the man riding beside him had gained a harder edge over the years.

Even so, to come this far… 

“And you found that acceptable?” Wu Ying asked, knowing he could where his companion dared not. 

“Acceptable?” Tou He snorted. “There is nothing acceptable about hurting another, even if it was for their own good in the end.” He sighed. “Perhaps they might find a different way forwards, but I had neither time, patience nor ability to find a true solution.” Again that hesitation, before he continued. “The truth is, I fear I might have judged them more harshly than I should have. Would have. Before…” Now he looked down, at his body, at the horse that moved along silently beneath him. 

“Before your ascension? Or the flames?”

“Both, perhaps.” He turned his head to look at his friend. “It’s hard, to know where I stand. How much I’ve changed, from the man that I had been – dreamed of being.”

“We’ve all changed,.” Wu Ying touched his own chest, where he had been stabbed all too often. The pain was gone, the injuries wiped away, but the memory lingered. He recalled offering openings to win battles, and a part of him quailed at the idea. He remembered the quiet arrogance, the ignorance, the pride of youth. He too had changed, as time and experience wore away at youthful idealism. “But if you’re asking, don’t worry. I’ll still tell you when you’ve gone too far.”

There was a grateful smile at those words. For a time, they rode onwards, before Tou He chuckled. At their enquiring gaze, he explained.

“Just that I am asking, Long Wu Ying, the Verdant Gatherer, collector of blades in his body and master of injuries and sacrifice, to tell me where I’ve gone too far.”

“Hey!”

Yang Mu’s delighted laughter was the only defense that Tou He needed.

***

Having cut across the nation, utilizing the well maintained merchant roads that crisscrossed the land and the occasional canal, the pair made their way through the nation as discreetly as they could manage. Even Yang Mu had been convinced to downgrade her usual clothing, and the addition of a simple pendant to help Tou He’s control of his aura ensured they became naught more than a trio of wandering cultivators.

Of course, that in itself was remarkable, but insufficient for more than cursory checks by those they encountered. Travel and trade had bloomed during the summer months, as long awaited rain arrived and brought with it flourishing greenery and harvests. Cultivators undertook to utilize their abilities to speed up growth of certain fields, relieving the strain on numerous provinces. At the same time, with fields finally being put to work once more, the number of bandits and beggars reduced as additional hands were required. In many cases, a blind eye was turned to those who might have undertaken somewhat less moral methods of survival during the drought.

Practicality triumphed justice at times, even for mortal man.

Summer and rain and then autumn and more rain. A deluge it felt, after years of drought. Yet every single drop was gratefully accepted, rain barrels and ponds filled up, wells that had been dug deep to grasp at groundwater levels that had slowly dropped finally refilled. 

Three wandering cultivators of their age - even if none of them looked that old - were a curiosity. Yet, there was just too much to do, too many things set aside due to the droughts and pressures it brought upon governments for magistrates and nobility and cultivators to pay attention to the trio. 

Commerce shifted, as foodstuff no longer became the main item sought after. Instead, luxuries began to be requested once more, weapons of war or lumber or paper. Slaves, sometimes, depending on the kingdom - or prisoners who might as well be slaves for the time they were imprisoned. Women sent off to make marriages of convenience and connections, scholars traveling to study under renowned teachers or to take the imperial examinations. Parents, seeking out sects to beg back their children sold off during the drought, hoping to see loved ones again. Bodies, taken by corpse bearers late at night, to be returned to hometowns or brought to final rest.

The world burst to life as the rains brought with them ease, and the trio passed through nations. Not unobserved, but ignored at least. Until, of course, there was something that the local authority or population wanted.

“A bandit, in the Core Formation realm! He has three others, all in the Energy Storage stage and they raid down from the mountain. They have a hideout there, one they took from a demon village. Killed them all. Nice folk really, made the best peach wine.” The local guardsman, looking at Wu Ying for some reason. As though he was the one with the bleeding heart, rather than Tou He.

The bandit lord was no Core Formation cultivator. Just a peak Energy Storage cultivator, his companions close to finishing their own progress breaking through the meridians. It took the trio longer to ride up to the forest than to kill them.

“The room is sealed, Honored Cultivators. We cannot open it, but it has the treasures of our sect. None of us have been able to do so, not even three years later. If we don’t open it soon, our sect will break apart.” The hand wringing from the woman, the ‘Elder’ was painful to see. She was only two layers into her Core Formation, the most powerful member of the Box of Occult Sect. 

“And you’d turst us to open it for you? If we can?” Yang Mu, in the lead now.

“Yes! I know you tried to hide who you were, but we’ve heard the rumors. And the Gatherer, he came through the city years ago. I saw him, you know, when he was at the auction.” She ducked her head. “Our sect couldn’t buy anything, but...” She lifted her chin. “You’re good people. And the province needs us. We’re the only ones who deal with the ghosts and other Yin creatures!”

True enough and reason enough for Yang Mu to act. She did not have the teachings, the understanding of the dao that was required to open the door. But she did see the connections holding the formation closed, and had the ability to pluck the enchantment aside, break down the formation and open the door.

A copy of their second most important technique for killing ghosts and specters and a pouch of spirit stones were their payment. That, and the feeling of doing something good.

“We don’t know what is killing our plants. After the drought, when the rains came, we thought we were saved. But now... if we don’t get at least a second planting, we’ll be ruined.” The farmer groused, staring at the yellowing and dying plants. Patches of bare ground, where plants had never even managed to grow. Willing to complain even to strangers, so worried was he.

It was not Wu Ying’s wind body that helped him here. It was his knowledge as the Verdant Gatherer, his time as a farmer that allowed him to understand what had happened. Even then, he found himself marveling at the fact that he was coming across this. A tale offered to Gatherers and farmers, that he had never expected to be real.

Demonic earth worms.

“Burnt it all,” Wu Ying said, gesturing to the farmland. “All of the fields. Every single one of them in the village. Burn the fields, burn the ground and make sure your flames sink at least a dozen feet into the ground.”

“All of it?” Tou He said, surprised.

“All of it. Don’t leave anything alive. The ash can be renewed, new plants can be grown.” He touched his pouch, where he had plants that could be set to grow faster, to root in the ground and make use of the burnt land before it was blown away. “But a single worm left alive will multiply.”

They had to do it twice, to make sure they caught them all after Yang Mu’s own divinations located a dozen others that had survived. Even so, they left the village with seeds and words of caution, moving on before they drew further attention.

At a temple, the group made their way inwards to pay respects. Not because they felt any particular calling to the immortal involved - cultivators and the worship of immortals above were a tricky subject, fraught with difficulty and complications that could only be balanced by the individual - but because the immortal himself had descended. 

Caught up in the festivities and rituals, the trio knew better than to avoid it. One did not disrespect an immortal on their day of ascension a century ago, especially when they had come down to the very temple itself to provide blessings to all who gathered. 

“You never know. Maybe glimpsing him might offer us all a breakthrough,” Wu Ying pointed out, blandly. 

“What is his dao again?”

“Dwarves,” Yang Mu said, blandly.

“What?” Tou He said.

“He is the god of dwarves. Or those who are on the shorter side,” Yang Mu said. “Individuals who are smaller pray to him. Not children though, of course.”

“Of course.” The god of children was different and not to be trifled with.

“But that’s his dao?”

To that, Yang Mu had no answer. Sometimes, what a man’s dao and what station he was entrusted to, that was different.

Wu Ying chuckled, and then stopped, coughing a little. He had a handkerchief to his mouth, coughing into it, the entire thing worth more than his village. It was necessary, for the blood that flecked the handkerchief – formerly a bespelled bandage now turned to other uses – was broken down moments later. Better to use something like this than leave traces of himself through multiple nations.

His injuries were flaring up again. They came and went, as the body and soul tried to patch themselves together. A difficult thing that failed all too often, like flesh scraping against raw rock, over and over again. A body, battered in the ocean and thrown against the cliffs of immortality.

She shot him a concerned glance, but he only gave the barest shake of his head. He understood their concern, but at times it grated on him. There was nothing more that they could do, and so the worry could only highlight his weakness, his failures. If there had been something more he needed, he would ask. Till then, he wished she would stop the mothering.

Up the stairs, moving with the crowds. So numerous were the petitioners and pilgrims that even the trio of cultivators were not spared the press of humanity. Uncomfortably close, everyone pressed as they shuffled upwards. The stink of sweating humanity rose all around, farmers and merchants and cultivators alike all forced to mingle under the eye of one stronger than they by far.

All in the hopes of enlightenment. A blessing. A gift. 

They happened, of course. There, a man standing stock still, swirling eddies of heavenly chi coming down, wrapping them around as they gained a moment of enlightenment. There, a Core Formation cultivator floated in mid-air, drawing in the energies of heaven as they gained deeper understanding of what immortality truly was. Down the slopes, a man stood, holding forth the seed of a plum. It glowed with the power contained within, and merchants and cultivators alike fought - verbally - to acquire it.

If the farmer was smart, he would sell it before the day ended. Take his earnings and avoid the inevitable attacks that would originate as others sought to take the tree from him.

Too much fortune could only become misfortune.

On, and on, they climbed till at last, they enterred the temple. Even as they neared, the trio felt the change. Environmental chi grew thicker, the simple exhalation of energy from the immortal’s presence altering and intensifying the chi around. Uncaring about the changes he made as he existed on this mortal realm.

A few lucky mortals, in such a presence, cultivating or gaining enlightenment were shattering bonds and plugs in their meridians. Monks and family members guarded these individuals, offering them a chance to make full use of the breakthrough. Knowing that a hefty donation would arrive later, that such largesse could only improve the quantity and quality of offerings to their god.

A god whose worshippers came in a variety of shapes and sizes. Those local to this region, who took him as their local deity; but also those who fell under his auspices. They bowed, they scraped, they donated and purchased what slivers of wisdom that might be offered.

It took the trio a half-dozen steps into the main temple before the man turned to them. Keen eyes, dark and serious with a glint of amusement. Hard to tell full stature while he stayed seated on his floating cushion above them all, but certainly on the shorter side. As befitted his duties.

Wu Ying met their gaze, and time slowed, stopped.

A dao - of space and time - wrapped around the trio, isolating them from those around. Everything outside, even his winds had stopped as this one spoke to them.

“Now, you are a surprise. A nascent immortal, a broken cultivator and one whose ambition is astounding - and foolish.” His voice was sonorous, carrying through to all three without distortion. “Are you here for a blessing? Or advice?”

“If you have advice, Magnificent and munificent Immortal Di, we would be ever so grateful. My partner’s injuries are severe.”

Warm brown eyes turned to Yang Mu, the woman entirely ignoring the insult leveled at her. Wu Ying would have objected, tried to defend her but he trusted she knew what she was doing. Never mind the fact that they all knew the immortal spoke the truth. What she had tried – tries – to understand is too big, too much for a single immortal.

It was why she was stuck, able to layer her core over and over again, needing to as her immortal soul grew in size and strength as she fed it understanding. But the problem was, the same layers that contained her, those would make it harder for her immortal soul to break free. 

If she tried to shatter her way through, she might fail, and leave herself damaged. Just like him. If she did not properly layer it, she would shatter herself prematurely. And the larger and wider and deeper her own dao, the harder it would be to integrate to her mortal body – the more powerful the heavenly tribulation. The more likely she would be to fail, as the immortal soul emerged and tested itself against the everlasting Dao.

“Tell me, fiery one. Why are you here, visiting me? For your friend too?”

“Yes. We also wanted to pay respects to you, on your day of ascension,” Tou He said. “Any insight on this long road is, of course, desirable.”

“Hah! Not always. None of you have my dao, though the ambitious one has the closest.” Silence, then the voice firmed. “For one who I expect to see, perhaps a hint. Be careful when you ascend, for the world above is similar in many ways but also different. The rules change, but the lines of power and responsibility continue. Tread carefully, for your dao will pit you against many.”

Tou He bowed his head as he murmured. “You do me great honor in believing that I will ascend, but I have far to go.”

“Mmm, you have come this far. I can see the struggles in your aura, in the way the heavens have touched you. I can see your dao and path, and it is because of that path; because the Buddha and those who occupy that portion of the heavens are kinder and less... strict... than other sections.” The Immortal grew silent and Wu Ying felt the other man’s focus land on him. He felt his aura pressured, his body weighed before it began. “As for you, broken one.”

“Honored Immortal,” Wu Ying said.

He felt those eyes bore into him, that aura sharpen and weigh him. He felt it, turn him over and over, and a part of him felt the push and pull of space and time as his past and future was judged. “Keep looking.”

Just like that, that immortal moment, an extension of time and separation of space broke. The world around them began moving once more, and the three moved on without needing to confer. They knew a dismissal when it occured. 

It was only way they were much further away, on their horses that Yang Mu broke the silence. “That was... less than useful.”

“Rules,” Tou He murmured. Oh yes, there were rules for those above. 

“Still...” Yang Mu said, disappointment in her voice.

Wu Ying spoke, into the silence, listening to a throb in his soul to words spoken. ”I found it helpful.”

And that, in the end, was it.