BBnB - B2 Chapter 21

Orange-crest did not have the words to help his master understand the exact nature of the gnawing terror that would not leave him alone. So many words, yet he never had enough of them. But Li Xun knew fear, and trusted his disciple. He did not need to understand the specifics, the unique terror of truly accepting that the things you had hung your very understanding of the world upon were not as solid as you once believed them.

The seeds had been there for a while. The facts and experiences. But they had not sprouted, until orange-crest had fought Hu Weimin. Until he had truly felt just how easily a more powerful cultivator could crush a weaker one. Hu Weimin was not even weak. He was in the same realm, with a powerful and useful art. And orange-crest had danced around his advantages and then pummeled him into the ground without using more than half of his qi or ever feeling truly on the back foot.

He hadn't eaten pills, hadn't used his stone form to pin him, or used multiple illusions at once to produce a cacophony and leave Hu Weimin swinging at shadows. He hadn't interrupted that technique that transformed water into a roaring burst by immobilizing Hu Weimin as he charged up and then bashed him upside the head. Orange-crest hadn't even gotten close to pulling any of his limited quantities of centipede wine out of his master's bag.

No matter how he tossed around the battle in his head, orange-crest could only come to one conclusion. Hu Weimin had never had a path to victory that did not involve orange-crest making a mistake. He had the power to harm orange-crest, but not the tricks to force him to stand and take those blows.

And if orange-crest could do that to a cultivator in his realm, how could orange-crest believe one of man's many legends could not do the same to his king? He wanted to believe in the Monkey King. But he no longer could, not as he once had, without reservation.

They did nothing special that night. Orange-crest cut wood and stoked the fire. Li Xun drew water from a stream and made congee. This time, he added plenty of sliced sausage to his disciple's portion. After orange-crest's victory over Yang Wei, frugality was no longer important.

He sat quietly beside his disciple as they both stared into the depths of the hearth-fire, each of them nursing a single mug of mundane rice wine.

Orange-crest felt like the sky was gone. As if merely by existing, Yang Shui had cut it away, and shown him an endless void filled with steely blades looming in their place. For so long, he was fearless because he trusted in his king. No, not merely trusted. He'd had trust beyond trust, for a monkey whose strength was beyond strength. But if men had found that were mountains beyond mountains, and sought to reach those peaks, could he really bring a fleeing man back to Mount Yuelu? The rest of his pack would say yes. Li Xun was orange-crest's brother, that made him theirs. But he was half-man now, and they were not. He knew more, but he did not know if he knew better.

Something within him had broken. But he had not broken. He would learn to push onward without a sky. If orange-crest could not be fearless in ignorance, he would be fearless in knowledge. The alternative, to cower beneath the world-spanning shadows of man-made gods, was beyond unacceptable.

A strange keening cry escaped his lips.

Lu Xun looked at him in alarm.

Orange-crest giggled. He wasn't drunk. He'd hardly touched his wine. He wasn't so much drinking from the mug as he was sometimes sticking his tongue in the cup, soaking it until it stung a little. He didn't know why he was doing that. He didn't know why he was doing a lot of things tonight. But soaking his tongue was a great distraction, as was making strange noises.

"I sound like Ogre Wu's stupid polearm." He muttered.

"It is indeed a stupid weapon." His master agreed. "I don't know what his family's divine blacksmiths were thinking. It's like someone stuck half the tines of a rake atop a very small scythe. What's wrong with a good guan dao or halberd? Why do so many martial cultivators insist on wielding the silliest possible weapons just because they can?"

Orange-crest snickered.

"Exactly. You get." Orange-crest didn't know what a halberd was, but he'd seen a guan dao in Han Jian's forge. That massive blade was very intimidating, and it didn't screech like a monkey in agony every time it sliced through the air. "Simple is best. My stick. Your fists. Good sharp dagger."

They lapsed into silence again. Orange-crest took up a small stick, and began poking the embers. Eventually he realized he didn't really need the little offcut piece at all. As long as he was quick he could just stick his fingers right in the inferno without so much as singeing his fur. Under his tender ministrations, the fire surged into new life.

"Do you want to talk about it?" His master asked.

Orange-crest threw back his whole saucer of wine.

"No. I don't even want to think about it. But I can't not anymore. Minds are stupid. I won, but now it won't stop screaming at me to be angry and afraid."

"Minds are indeed stupid, sometimes." Li Xun agreed.

Orange-crest giggled wetly at that. He smiled, when his master did not press further. Sometimes silence felt closer than words.

Together, they silently watched the fire die down to coals a second time.

"You taught me fear." Orange-crest said suddenly.

His master stiffened.

"You taught me fear, in a way I could not have ever known before." The monkey repeated. "But you also gave me so many good things to be afraid of losing."

Li Xun swallowed. There was a knot in his gut that was not shame.

"Come what may, I will never regret that. Never regret this." His disciple finished, rising to his feet. "Thank you, master. I'm better now. Time for sleep."

Li Hou padded over to the steadily dwindling pile of spare robes he insisted on using as a bed, and collapsed into a puddle. He was snoring quietly in minutes.

Li Xun sat there for another hour, staring into the coals. What could a master say to that?

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It had not taken much effort to get the Seventh Prince alone. Or, as alone as it was possible for such a man to ever be. Lu Xiaosheng held a position of tremendous trust and honor, but even he could not expect to speak with an imperial heir unchaperoned. Certainly not one who had not yet established their foundation. Some matters were beyond mere trust. He could scarcely imagine the oaths Xiao Wenchuan would have been expected to swear in order to be trusted with the prince's safety.

He supposed he might well understand them soon, if his plans came to fruition. The prospective master of such a prince would be expected to bind himself no less severely.

The masses might not understand just how insidious demonic cultivators could be, but Elder Lu did not have the luxury of such ignorance. He had seen all too often just how easily a powerful demon could corrupt a promising young disciple. There was a seductive aspect to those blackest arts. Even he had once been tempted by the way they offered a daoist anything, even things beyond price, if they spilled enough blood to pay for them. Lifespan and power, talent or destiny, love and beauty, all of them could be taken, if one bled nations dry. But that was not the true danger of risking exposing a clan heir to a demon. A truly powerful demon, one in Core Formation or Nascent Soul, could often taint even the upright and unshakeable. The Shadow of Eternity had recovered from death a dozen times by seeding mortals with fragments of his soul. The Lord of Poisoned Hearts had forced Elder Xun to execute a dozen of their own disciples, before Sect Master Xiang had found a way to detect and counter his arts.

Many of the empire's heirs and prodigies chafed at the practice of keeping them secluded for the first two or three decades of their life, but those rules were written in blood and tragedy. There were some dangers that no number of pills and life-saving treasures could obviate.

"The monkey is remarkable, but I almost find Hu Weimin more impressive. You said he was entirely self taught? I must admit a certain fondness for those who come into their arts through intuition and experimentation alone."

"Yes, Your Highness." Elder Lu said, a smile on his face. Over centuries he had become so accustomed to controlling his expressions that sometimes he forgot where Lu Xiaosheng ended and Elder Lu began. But the Seventh Prince was a genuine pleasure to interact with. He was so very young, with all the flaws that came with being in the springtime of one's youth. But Elder Lu believed that with the right tutelage, he could become an emperor to rival the Jianheng.

"He hoped to acquire a master off the strength of his showing." Elder Lu continued. "I had planned to pair him with our own Daoist Snowclad Heart, a swordsman who favors similar elemental techniques, but unexpected events led to him taking a different initiate as his disciple earlier this year. Daoist Sword like Rain is a poor match for Hu Weimin's mild temperament, and already has many students besides, but I plan to prevail upon him to take a fourth disciple. Young Hu Weimin is too talented a student to allow to languish in obscurity."

"You take a very active role in managing the sect's disciples, do you not Elder Lu?"

"Astutely noted, Your Highness. It is true that I am something of a meddler. But I cannot bear to see jade buried in mud. As a great sect, our highest duty is to ensure that every talent born to the empire is turned to its highest purpose."

"A noble sentiment." The Seventh Prince said with an inscrutable smile. "I am certain the Jianheng would look proudly upon it."

Laughter echoed from the far side of the box. Elder Xun had told some sort of joke, crude or bawdy no doubt. The Marshal of the West slapped at his thigh, vigorously acting the drunken reveler. Ren Yuhan sat with the pair of them, his ramrod straight posture betraying a slight awkwardness. The young prodigy had not claimed the title of sect master off the strength of his social acumen, and the seemingly sincere friendship the marshal had struck up with Elder Xun was keeping him off balance.

Elder Lu would happily leave him to it. Pairing Li Hou with Yang Wei in the third round had been a mistake. One of his largest blunders in years. The sect master was not best pleased with him. Elder Lu had been forced to bow his head before his junior and offer a great many concessions. Ren Yuhan's authority over the conclave of elders would be unassailable for several years, with Elder Lu forced to back his voice.

He'd nearly lost the privilege to first approach the Seventh Prince over it. He'd only held on by virtue of being one of only three Core Formation experts in the entire empire who studied the same sort of esoteric arts that the Seventh Prince had shown intuitive mastery over. Fortune was not so weighty thing as fate, but enough gold could tip all but the heaviest of scales.

The sole bright flower among the dark willows was that Yang Shui had hardly seemed to care about his nephew's loss of face. He'd misread his divinations grievously here. Events had not at all played out as he'd expected, but he'd at least navigated the matter without compromising his core interests. He would need to be more careful about that in the future. A divination could tell you that you would triumph in a battle, leaving out that you would lay dying afterward. He'd grown too used to clean victories lately.

"What did you think of the match, grand uncle?" The Seventh Prince asked, interrupting Elder Lu's ruminations. "Hu Weimin's arts bear some small similarities to yours, do they not?"

Xiao Wenchuan chuckled darkly.

"I suppose they do, little prince. A pale reflection of deep waters. A remarkable understanding for a commoner, but lacking in true refinement. The strength of water is in motion. He dominates when he should direct, and hampers his grasp for it. It is however his opponent I find more interesting."

The Seventh Prince raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? You think the monkey is more remarkable? I cannot say I see it. Shao Bingwen's physical strength exceeds his. Those illusions are a clever trick, but I'm sure some of the other initiates will come to see through them before the end of the tournament. Li Hou is only concealing the evidence of one sense, after all. It is easy enough to pierce once one sees the trick of it."

"No." Xiao Wenchuan said coldly. "The monkey is not remarkable. It is obscene."

Silence fell over the box. Xiao Wenchuan was a curious man. He was almost unremarkable, most of the time. Quiet and unassuming in a way that most Nascent Soul cultivators could not dream of being. That made it all the more striking when he so firmly proclaimed something like that.

"It is obscene." Xiao Wenchuan repeated. "A waste of a daoist's wealth to produce a curiosity. I have walked the sect and heard the rumors. It is too intelligent for its lowly stature. Carefree as a child, intelligent as a man."

Everyone was listening now. Even Yang Shui and Elder Xun had given up the pretense of caring more about their own conversation than listening in on the prince's.

"Mark well my words. It will end in tragedy. How pleasant and pliable do you think it will remain, when the wild currents of adolescence rise within it? Will it find the company of humanity sufficient, when the urge to father children comes to the fore? Or will it forsake the comforts of craft and hearth for a menial existence? Will it find rutting with filthy animals pleasing, the intellectual company of its own kind stimulating? Or will it forsake its nature and rush headlong toward tribulation, dying of pride and impatience like so many of the Bai Clan's ill-fated mistakes?"

"Perhaps." Yang Shui said noncommittally.

"Without familial love or social order to temper them, every cultivating animal is a demon born." Xiao Wenchuan said firmly, ignoring the marshal. "The first sin of the Bai was not treason, nor demonhood. It was ignoring the shape of the world. Looking upon the Great Dao, and thinking that things should be other than what they are. The beasts of the wilds are our lessers, and have no place within civilization. It is not a kindness to treat them as something other than what they are. That tragedy followed in the wake of such unwholesome dreams was inevitable."

"A cynical view, well supported by precedent." Elder Lu said, unable to believe he was defending the monkey. But then, he'd all but claimed it before the sect. He had to say something. "But the Azure Mountain Sect does not judge our disciples for crimes they have not yet committed. Perhaps Li Hou will be the exception that proves the Weizheng Emperor's wisdom in not banning the practice of raising up bestial disciples."

That was perhaps the most troublesome thing about Daoist Scouring Medicine. Not the way he chafed at even the lightest of restriction, or his carelessness with things entrusted to him by others. The most troublesome thing was the way he sometimes succeeded at the most foolhardy of endeavors. He was one of the foremost examples of why the Azure Mountain Sect had so many of the rules it did. Old Xiang had bent those rules for the sake of a promising student, and Elder Lu still did not know if that had been the correct decision.

Li Xun did not fit within the sect anymore, but he had no place outside of it either. He had nobody but himself to blame. Lu Xiaosheng would sooner kill the man than allow the last true poison master to emerge from the ashes of the Withering Lotus Palace to freely wander the empire.

"I am old, Elder Lu." Xiao Wenchuan's voice somehow made 'elder' sound like 'child'. Elder Lu knew that the man was his senior, but he didn't actually know how old Xiao Wenchuan was. He was no recent prodigy like Yang Shui, but an pillar of the Xiao Clan that rarely emerged from his cultivation. He had to be at least three or four hundred years old, but he spoke of the Bai as if he'd known them personally. He might well be over half a millennia in age. "I have seen this road walked a thousand times. The failures are more numerous than the stars beneath heaven, but the successes are too fraught with ambition to justify them. The Weizheng Emperor did not ban the practice. But he did put all save one of the Bai Clan's bestial ancestors to the sword when he broke them."

"Eh." Yang Shui cut in. "We beat back the Beast Kings twice before. With or without the Bai, a third time won't be a problem. No longer do we cower in their shadows."

"We shall indeed, Marshal Yang." Xiao Wenchuan said. "On that at least, we agree."

The conversation returned to the matches below. Elder Xun and Yang Shui resumed their drinking, and after a time Ren Yuhan truly began to join in the lively trade of stories.

Elder Lu continued discussing the matches with the Seventh Prince. He was pleased to see the prince understand the point of the exercise. So many others watched the tournament to see who would win, as if the losers were not treasures in their own right. Heroes did not preserves sects, nor empires. One man might could shift history, but enduring organizations were built atop entire rosters of experts. Every talent that stepped foot on the Azure Mountain was one more small light to guard against the darkness. One more blade to be placed, and used, to best effect. A cynical man might say he spent lives like coin. But Elder Lu could see something holy in the act of expending something, whether man or material, in pursuit of the highest purpose to which it was suited.

"Have you given any thought to your own future cultivation, Your Highness?"

The Seventh Prince's eyes were sharp.

"I have."

"I believe the Azure Mountain Sect has much it could offer you." Elder Lu continued. "If you, and Lord Xiao, are amenable, I would like to show you some of mysteries that are our foundation. I believe that you may have what it takes to receive one of the inheritances our grand elders have left behind."

Elder Lu hoped that his understanding of courtly gossip was correct, that Xiao Wenchuan was not about to shut him down by claiming the Qianlong Emperor would not approve of such a thing.

If the Capital Xiao were throwing their banner behind the Seventh Prince, if his father allowed him to attempt the trial, if he proved as promising as Elder Lu hoped. Three great unknowns. But if Lu Xiaosheng was right about all of them, then the succession of the empire might well hang upon this moment.

Xiao Wenchuan did not speak. The Seventh Prince did not answer immediately.

"I have not yet chosen to study under the Azure Mountain Sect." He eventually offered. "The Celestial Scripture Temple has not yet endorsed a candidate for crown prince either. I would not wish to trample upon your kindness, if I found my fate elsewhere."

The Reaping Wind Sect had the Third Princess. The Demon-Subduing Hall had thrown their weight behind the Second Prince. That left only two great sects for any aspiring crown prince to court. It was a forgone conclusion that Xiao Yongzheng would join one of them, if he were serious about seeking the throne.

"That offer is not dependent on your studying at our sect, Your Highness. As I have said, it is the solemn duty of the four great sects to nurture promising talents. If the Celestial Scripture Temple can offer you more than the Azure Mountain, we shall have to content ourselves with having had such a small role in your education. The Jianheng Emperor's legacy demands nothing less from us."

The Seventh Prince met his dao protector's eyes, and then nodded. He rose to his feet, and offered shallow bows to both Elder Lu, Elder Xun, and Sect Master Ren.

"I shall endeavor to prove myself worthy of your faith, seniors."

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The sky was still dark, when the knock came.

Orange-crest leapt out of bed in an instant, dagger glinting in his fingers. Nobody had attacked him in his sleep in a year, but that was no reason to let your guard down.

"It is for you." Li Xun did not bother to get up, instead just shouting from his room.

Orange-crest's eyes narrowed. He hadn't really slept in days, he was looking forward to resting until well past the rising of the sun. Slightly bleary, he treaded over to the front door. Slowly he cracked it open, knife still in hand, concealed by the frame of the door.

"Walk with me." Yang Wei commanded. "I would speak with you before I speak with your master."

"Good morning to you too." Orange-crest groused. He wasn't really in the mood for this. But he wasn't really in the mood for anything, and Yang Wei seemed serious, so he followed him.

"Greetings are for people with nothing to say." Yang Wei's strides were irritatingly long. "I thought about what you said. And I asked my uncle to keep an ear out."

"Why does this mean you need to wake me up? Been cultivating all week. Am tired."

"I don't really care."

"You are not very good at friendship."

"Be quiet, and listen."

Grudgingly, orange-crest shut up. Listening was less effort than talking. He'd really hoped that entering the fourth stage of Qi Condensation would mean he no longer ever woke up tired in the mornings, but apparently almost five days without sleep was enough to leave him utterly wiped out. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up so late wrestling with his thoughts. Slowly, his mind left the subject of his exhaustion, as Yang Wei's words grabbed more and more of his attention.

Yang Wei spoke for the better part of a quarter of an hour, before falling silent. The two of them had made it almost halfway to orange-crest's fishing hollow before the young man turned and stared expectantly at the monkey.

"Well? Are you in?"

Orange-crest's eyes narrowed. That had been... A lot to take in.

"I don't know enough about humans to know if that plan is stupid or not."

"I think most humans would say it is. It's rather dangerous, even with Xiao Wenchuan clearing the way. That's why I need you. Well, why I need your master. My master cannot accompany me. If my uncle goes anywhere, the elders will notice in an instant. He can rescue us, but not clear the way. And your master is the only other true daoist I can hope to recruit. Outer Disciple Chang De is too weak, and my inner disciple cousin is on a long term mission. Li Shuwen might act like a coward, but he'll go where I follow. A fourth could be good, but I don't think we need one. Only one hand can claim the treasures we seek, after all. Every ally is also another competitor."

"Won't they notice us?"

"Not if we're careful. Li Shuwen has talismans, and there are other ways to stay beneath notice. The nature of the under-sect makes most sensory techniques less effective. Even my uncle can only extend his senses a few hundred chi into them from the outside. And if we make it to the hidden realms, there's nothing our seniors can do until we come out again. Most of them prevent anyone above Qi Condensation from entering. They aren't stable enough to support them."

Orange-crest was starting to become tempted. Yang Wei was obviously insane. He'd very clearly come out of his mother in some way broken. But he'd grown up in the shadow of one of mankind's great monsters. A little bit broken was probably the best he could have hoped for. If anyone had the resolve orange-crest wanted, the unshakeable fearlessness, it was probably him.

"Is it not a trap? Why tell your uncle these things? Surely they know he'll tell you. That you'll do something dumb."

"They don't understand him." Yang Wei said with a laugh. "Not really. They think he's like them. Careful and fearful, worried about losing his prodigy of a disciple. That he's here to watch over me, or improve the reputation of the Yang Clan. It was my father that insisted I join a sect. Uncle Shui wanted me to join his next campaign and live among his enlisted men, to live and cultivate like any other soldier."

"And the sect won't kill us, if they find us?"

"Kill a disciple? The Azure Mountain Sect isn't half that brutal Li Hou. Beatings, certainly. Perhaps some time in the Punishment Hall. But the inheritances are technically the collective property of the sect. They don't actually have the right to forbid us to attempt them. The beasts will certainly try to kill us. And if the sect finds us before we succeed, there will probably be... Consequences."

Yang Wei's eyes narrowed in sudden fury.

"But if they try to do worse to you than they do to me, I'll make them regret it. If you can take a thousand lashes, I can bear ten thousand."

That was touching in a very odd sort of way.

Orange-crest sighed.

"I'll talk to my master."