The long bridge creaked as it hung between the peaks. A cloud drifted through the ropes and the ancient wooden planks. Knots tightened under pressure, planks rubbed against each other, and even the subtle motion of the breathing mountains was enough for them to groan.

  Each sound told a story, one that I couldn’t unhear. It started when I first stepped onto the bridge, and continued as we advanced. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was the planks, the rope, or the bridge as a whole speaking to me… but it was none of them.

  It was the wind.

  And it was as dark as the sky hiding behind the clouds.

  For this bridge was ancient.

  Older than the Black Tiger Kingdom, and older than the kingdoms that rose and fell through the mists of time. These mountains had resources, and where there were resources, there were people, and where there were people, there were roads, and where roads reached the world’s edge… people with resources built bridges.

  Countless people crossed this bridge. So many of them long dead...

  “Creak,” said the ropes and the planks.

  And the wind expanded on this salient point.

  “Not all who step onto this bridge make it to the other side,” whispered the wind.

  “Creak,” said the ropes, and the planks agreed.

  “Some stop right where you are standing,” said the wind. “For their road has reached an end.”

  “Creak,” said the planks.

  As if I would want to join the bones painted white by centuries of sun.

  “You can’t see them from up here,” said the wind. “But they are there, and they are waiting. You think you will rise no matter what, but everyone has a fall that will break them.”

  The dark whispers carried descriptions of those who crossed the bridge and those who leaped halfway. A weight settled on my shoulders, and it was heavier than the Flawless Blade, heavier than anything I could imagine.

  “This is the weight that will drag you down,” said the wind. “You who would crawl from the bowels of the earth to stand so close to the heavens.”

  “Creak?” asked the planks.

  “Groan?” echoed the ropes.

  “Let me guess,” I said. “You want to know why I spared the Flawless Blade?”

  The wind played through my hair.

  “Throw him over the edge,” said the wind. “You know the weight of our hunger. Why spare him from his fate?”

  The rope groaned like someone too full but still eating more.

  “I don’t have a good answer for you,” I said. “I just went with my gut.”

  Because looking down at his unconscious body stirred something in my heart. A hunger that quivered that hole inside my soul, and I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I couldn’t eat him in front of people, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to eat him at all. So I’d taken him with me… saving him for later.

  A problem postponed.

  There was laughter in the bridge as the cloud passed through the gaps.

  “Is that enough?” the wind asked. “Doing what you will? Breathing without lungs, pumping blood without a heart, seeing without eyes, and for all your plans… do you even know why you do what you do? You avoid cultivators, and yet just like them you move…”

  “Like iron passing through glass,” I said, completing the expression that haunted mortals… that haunted me until recently.

  I reflected on my actions over the last few days. Fighting spirit beasts, avoiding mortals — calling them ‘mortals’! — and speaking with cultivators as though we were equals.

  What was I doing?

  I wanted to trace the steps of my life, to see the memories that flitted through my mind like moths in the dark, to know if the flowers they sought truly existed…

  What if I had already stepped beyond the past? Could I ever return?

  “Confusion is good,” whispered the wind with dark longing. “The bridge swings for those who do not know if they wish to cross. We wait for those who do not know where they stand between the earth and the heavens.”

  I clenched my fist, coming to a stop and knowing — even without being able to see through the cloud — that I stood at the bridge’s center.

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  The weight pressed on me, and I feared the planks beneath might snap.

  “There is a question you must answer,” whispered the wind. “A truth you must face as you shape your flesh and your fate…”

  “Groan,” said the ropes.

  I didn’t care about their mockery; I would wait for the wind.

  “Creak,” said the planks. “Creak, creak, creak.”

  I waited, but the wind fell silent, settling into the planks and the rope like a sword into a sheath. Despite the eerie stillness, I detected smugness as though the wind were a cat with a mouthful of bird.

  This wasn’t the facility; there were no closed-in walls. I stood out in the open, with power in my blood and a sense of adventure guiding my steps, yet still the fear crept through my veins as though the world cupped gigantic hands around me.

  As though I were a bug to be cradled and crushed.

  I waited for the bridge to speak, for the wind to put voice to the doubt, but nothing came.

  At last, I could stand it no longer.

  “So,” I said with a darkness in my voice that surprised even me. “What is your question?”

  The wind remained silent, and, to my surprise, Chen Ai spoke.

  “What are you?” she asked me. “You’re like no cultivator I’ve ever seen. You’re not just hiding your qi; there isn’t any at all! Yet you took every hit from the Flawless Blade as though it were nothing. I’ve been trying to understand… but I can’t.”

  Even though I didn’t need to breathe, it felt as though all the air was sucked out of me. The wind snickered at my shock, and the bridge groaned.

  Someone finally put it all together.

  Not the Special Inspector, and not the Core Formation cultivator from the Storming Tortoise Clan, but the woman who traveled with me for a few days in companionable silence. In hindsight, maybe letting her tag along hadn’t been the smartest move.

  My every instinct told me not to speak the truth. I probably shouldn’t even speak at all.

  We were so high in the air, if this was going to be a problem… I could break the ropes and cast us down into the chasm below. No matter what the wind whispered, I knew I’d survive.

  “Creak,” said the planks.

  “Groan,” said the ropes.

  The wind waited.

  I turned to face Chen Ai, and she stepped back from whatever look was in my eyes.

  That hurt, and that flickering feeling in my heart told me what I needed to do.

  I opened my mouth to speak the truth, but the memories of a street rat bubbled up and took hold of my tongue.

  “What do you think I am?” I asked.

  She paused, her bright eyes searching in the dark.

  “I…”

  “You know the answer,” I said. “Search your feelings, Chen Ai.”

  A tension built in her shoulders, before they sagged.

  “I just don’t know why you didn’t tell me,” she said at last.

  Needless to say, I had no idea what she was talking about, but it seemed better than her knowing the truth.

  “We’ve only known each other a few days,” I pointed out.

  She nodded, more relaxed now, and the creaking of the bridge seemed to fade away as she stepped closer to me with a smile.

  “It’s just, my own bloodline is so obvious,” she said as she tapped her horns a little self-consciously. “And you’re so secretive, so I assumed it must be something more…”

  My heart froze as several thoughts passed across her face.

  “More what?” I asked.

  She shrugged.

  “More nefarious?” she said. “I thought you might be some old monster come down from centuries of isolation, or a demonic sect elder, or a spirit beast taken human form… but I think you’re like me. A low rung cultivator with a few extra tricks and a whole lot of baggage.”

  “That sounds about right,” I said, carefully not indicating which part I agreed with. “You’ve figured me out.”

  She sighed, and the last of the tension between us faded.

  “Can you… Do you want to tell me about it?” she said. “I have one as well, so I understand if you want to share or keep it secret.”

  I shrugged.

  “To be honest,” I said as I prepared to lie. “I don’t know much about my bloodline.”

  “I figured it would be like that. I’m the same, you know? My bloodline… I never knew my parents. I was found in a burned-down village when I was just an infant, and a noble house took me in as a servant. They treated me… poorly. Nobody thought anything of me until I stole some spirit grass… it just smelled so tasty! Chewing that grass awoke my dantian when I was only thirteen, and the house assigned me as their daughter’s maid. I cultivated with her and served for five years before I could escape. It’s hard, not knowing my origins. If you ever need to talk about it…”

  She stopped and looked almost embarrassed.

  I bowed to her.

  “Thank you for sharing your past with me,” I said.

  “That’s quite alright… senior brother? Do you mind if I call you that?”

  “I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

  “So you still won’t tell me your name?”

  I shook my head.

  “Part of my bloodline,” I said with relief at the simple explanation.

  The bridge creaked as we resumed walking through the passing cloud. The vapors thinned now, and ragged strips of stars shone in the sky overhead.

  “What else does your bloodline do?” Chen Ai asked.

  “I can heal myself,” I said. “Quite well, actually.”

  “Right, it certainly has something to do with blood,” she said, almost to herself. “And it masks your presence, though I have no idea how, but bloodlines rarely make sense. I’m still going to hang around until I can save your life, so I might as well help you out with understanding your bloodline. I hope that’s alright?”

  We were close enough to the far side of the bridge that I could see the pale waiting trees and the lights of Mountain Root City not far beyond. It was larger than I’d expected, covering a good portion of the mountain, and hiding behind tall stone walls.

  The sight of civilization and the averted disaster of my discovery filled me with good cheer. Even so, something niggled at my mind.

  “It’s alright with me,” I told Chen Ai with a smile. “In fact, I don’t know who would argue with that.”

  I’d directed that last statement toward Cabbagy, but the tired old vegetable remained silent. I frowned. He had barely spoken in the last day, and I couldn’t help growing worried at his wilting state. He’d promised to train me further, but what if he passed before that happened?

  I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.

  While I had three sets of memories spanning back through my life, it still sometimes felt like I was only a few weeks old. Everything felt so new and surprising.

  So raw.

  Which explained my shock when the Flawless Blade started thrashing on my shoulder.

  “Unhand me!” he shouted. “Let me down!”

  Even though his core broke, he still kicked hard enough to break my ribs, and his fists came down on my back with enough force to draw blood. I staggered backward, and Chen Ai leaped away from me.

  “You have to suppress him!” she shouted. “He’s forming a technique!”

  But before I could do anything, a sound like a ringing sword shook my bones. The bridge slackened as the flailing Flawless Blade summoned his qi and cut through the groaning planks and creaking ropes that held us up in the air.

  His technique dissipated, but the damage was done.

  The wind laughed in my ears as we started to fall.

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