SU TANG (素醣)

  Day 5, 4th Month of the Lunar Calendar, 6000th Year of the Yun Dynasty, Shuishang Province, Huadu Sect

  The incessant tapping of some inconsiderate classmate who was struggling with today’s exercise greatly disrupted my concentration. Theory was always much harder than practice.

  I took a deep breath in.

  Recently, my world appeared blurry, like a filter had been put over it. Using my hand to rub my eyes, I tried to focus on the mental image in my head. The blur stubbornly remained. I relaxed my shoulders and sighed again, then cracked my neck and slouched.

  Breaking to the next level never seemed so daunting.

  I just needed to grow one flower. One measly flower. Just a calendula. It couldn’t be that hard. Right? I looked around the room. My classmates were sitting with their legs crossed and facing the front like soldiers. For most of them, they would be stuck cultivating for half a year or so, to breakthrough. Becoming an alchemist was incredibly difficult, especially if you wanted to be selected by Taishan’s Alchemist Guild.

  Smoothing my skirt over my legs, I fixed my eyes at the front of the room. The Blossom Chief was sitting in the lotus position, and her hair was pulled over her right shoulder. Fuchsia-toned magic danced on her palms.

  I blamed my big mouth for having to sit in class. If I hadn’t complained to Ying Yue the other day, Ju Ying wouldn’t have made this lesson especially difficult. She was convinced I would make a breakthrough in the next month.

  Next month! That’s crazy talk.

  “Tang’er, calm your thoughts,” Ju Ying said.

  Her eyes were closed, but she had raised an eyebrow. Twenty-four heads swivelled around to face me. I grinned at them, whilst trying to stare daggers at Ju Ying, which was a difficult manoeuvre. I ended up looking like a happy drunkard, except my eyes were popping from my head like a clown. Unsurprisingly, my classmates turned back, probably wishing they hadn't looked at my face.

  I pinched my lips. I really wanted to grow this thing. Then I wouldn’t have to be here, getting judged by everyone. And if I could grow it, I could help Qi Qi. She was always saying that her burn salves were in short supply. But mostly, I just wanted out of here.

  I closed my eyes and tried searching for the mental image of my cultivation palace again.

  The image, though fuzzy, grew closer, then closer still. Until at last, it subdued my visual field. The cultivation palace was meant to be jewel of a cultivator. All cultivators had one, and all cultivators loved to compare it. Despite the name, the cultivation palace did not always look like a palace. For young cultivators, the cultivation palace sometimes resembled a pebble. But for experienced and trained individuals, their cultivation palace really did look majestic.

  Well doesn’t mine just look embarrassing.

  Never mind, I’ll make do.

  I pushed forth a solid white beam of magic. It was much like a ray of sunlight, as Lao Zhe described it, and began to burn as brightly as a flame. The silhouette of the flower started to take shape; exactly as the textbook had said.

  The flower bloomed. Sunrise hued petals, stained with the glow of dawn. The petals were small and circled around the centre tightly, yet the rough edges mimicked the restlessness of a flicking flame. The flower, botanically from the calendula family, was aptly called huǒhuā (火花), the Fire Flower. Not only because it soothed burns, but because of its unreal likeness to fire.

  Something like a stick jabbed into my head. I shuddered violently at the unexpected contact.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The Blossom Chief was there.

  I had no recollection of her being beside me; either she was super stealthy, or I was ignorant. It was likely the latter. Or both.

  I touched my head. Now, that dead branch of a hairpin lay jammed into my hair. Whoops, forgot about it again.

  “You always surprise me,” she said.

  At times like this, I didn’t mind Ju Ying too much. She was nearest thing I had to a mother, and she was trying her best. Although, her methods were questionable. Very questionable.

  “If I was anything but surprises, I don’t think you would think it was me,” I joked.

  She knelt down next to me and looked at me. “It's not that. You know—of course you know—I want to keep you safe. That’s not right. I mean, just make smart choices okay?”

  I twiddled my thumbs. She wasn’t going to stop harping on about my ‘poor’ decision the other day when I accepted the Empress’ decree. I guess that was the job of the senior disciple of a sect.

  “Okay, fine. I’ll admit it. I made a poor decision,” I replied.

  The mood was light, and I didn’t want to push her buttons, even if she was the one who always behaved strangely.

  The Blossom Chief flicked the air, as if she were trying to wave away the words I had just spoken. I had given her every opportunity to come clean about her behaviours and she didn’t seem to care for it.

  Finally, she spoke, “What are you still doing here? You’ve grown the flower already. Didn’t you want to leave earlier?”

  “What, you want to get rid of me so soon?”

  My eyes flicked across a book and my short attention span was immediately hooked. A classmate of mine, Xue Wan’er, patiently traced the scroll’s aged ink with a plump finger, and my eyes followed obediently. I shifted my seat over.

  Xue Wan’er gave me a crude stare, then started talking as she returned her eyes to the bamboo scroll. “What are you looking at? Are you going to scorn me?”

  Usually, I would’ve taken the insult with a pinch of salt. But I felt taken aback. I never belittled any of them, but I also rarely spoke to any of them. Most of my classmates avoided me like the plague unless it was exam period; that was the only time I suddenly became everyone’s best friend.

  “I was just curious about what you were reading,” I said.

  “Su Tang jiě!” exclaimed a voice, reminding me that Xue Wan’er wasn’t the only person who talked to me.

  I turned toward the voice, and my face broke into a smile.

  “Xiao Wu (小五)?”

  He was sitting on the left of Wan’er, eyes squinty and horse-teeth showing. If Ju Ying was my shījiě, Xiao Wu had to be my dìdì. I reached out a hand and ruffled his already messy hair. He shook my hand off and turned to Xue Wan’er.

  “Wan’er jiě, Su Tang’s not trying to scorn you. She’s very kind,” he said, placing his hands on his hips.

  For the most part, Xiao Wu acted like a kid. Well of course…he was a kid. But his mind was brilliant. I knew of no one who could fathom the thoughts that ran through his head.

  He was definitely the boy most likely to succeed.

  Xue Wan’er patted him on the head. “I know.”

  She gave me a grimace and repositioned her hands to show me the document.

  “Case #4: Mysterious death of an Immortal in Fengyu Sect?” I exclaimed, grabbing at the scroll. “You’re reading Mr Shen’s (申) Unsolved—no way, you have Volume III?”

  “So what?” she replied indignantly.

  “Have you read the most recent one? The, the—” I clicked my fingers as I tried to recall, “—the serial murder one?—what was it called again—The Pin Hole murders: Volume VII.”

  “I only started the series,” she said.

  “Wait ‘till you get to them. It’s the BEST real life unsolved case series ever. I wonder if anyone will ever crack them,” I said grasping at the one thing that I had in common with her.

  Mr Shen’s Unsolved were one of best things—aside from pill refinement. We were lucky to be able to study the medical records of all fatalities. We were meant to treat it seriously and for ‘educational purposes only’ as Ju Ying put it. But for the most part, we all treated it as good detective-crime fiction.

  “They are unsolved for a reason,” Mr-Speaks-The-Obvious Xiao Wu said, with the kind of attitude I expected from an adolescent female painting her fingernails.

  Suddenly, the whole world flipped over, as the Blossom Chief dragged me by the shoulder, backwards and out of the door.

  “Hey!” I yelled, turning out of her grasp.

  Blossom Chief Ju stopped and brought her face close to mine.

  “You said you wanted to leave. If you don't,” she gestured toward the class, “I have plenty of work you can do.”

  I debated arguing with her. But it wasn’t worth my time. After all, my shījiě had given me a free get-out-of-jail pass and I wasn't planning to waste it. I smiled sweetly and skipped down the stairs.