“I’ll let the two of you get to know each other.”
Ariadne slipped away, only to stop a scant few feet away at a nearby table and engage Garrion and his half-brother in conversation. Calvin looked down at Yue Gwey, meeting the younger girl’s eyes, and then both simultaneously glanced towards Ariadne out of the corner of their eyes.
She was certainly acting like she was deep in conversation, but even Calvin could tell she was only pretending to not be hovering over the two of them.
Gwey’s shoulders slumped slightly, her eyes turning to the heavens in a brief plea for intervention, but no ancient immortal or supreme force answered her. Calvin smiled commiseratingly and she wrinkled her nose momentarily before her expression smoothed out into one of politely feigned interest.
Calvin bowed. “Calvin, Outer disciple of the Eight Peaks Sect. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”
She returned his bow with a sharp dip of her head that made her ponytail lash the air behind her, its end coming around to strike the side of her neck. “Yue Gwey, Outer disciple of the Eight Peaks Sect.” There was a pause, silent and barely more than a single breath, perhaps unnoticeable to the ear of a mortal but clear as the moon to a Foundation realm cultivator. It felt tired, a soundless sigh that would be improper at such a gathering. “Sixty-seventh in the line of Imperial Governor Yue Jai, may the Dragonflame light his way and Heaven’s Fortune walk his path.”
Calvin’s response was so routine, so ingrained in his psyche by a lifetime of echoing those same words that he barely noticed himself saying it. “Glory to the Emperor and His servants.” He’d said that phrase more times than he could recall in the first decade of his life—each time he was lucky enough to get a warm meal from one of the Imperial Kitchens, the rare nights he’d spent in an Imperial Orphanage or House of Changing Fortune, and practically every other time he’d interacted with even a fringe affiliate of the Imperial Bureaucracy. Less since entering the territory of and eventually joining the sect, but it wasn’t something he really ever thought about. It was just what people said.
This time however, something happened that almost made him jump out of his skin.
Within his spirit, the attunement treasure perched on his central qi node shifted in place, the golden phoenix fluffing its jeweled wings before settling back into statuesque stillness. It was a tiny movement, so small he probably wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t just spent the better part of a day focused intensely on the otherwise motionless treasure. And the timing…
He was abruptly reminded of the name the Scroll had given the treasure. The Figure of the Seventh Imperial Phoenix. He hadn’t thought much of it, far more interested in the treasure’s immensely profound attunement, but maybe he should have.
But right now wasn’t the time for thinking about anything potentially worrying and important like. Yue Gwey was looking at him, and he could practically feel Ariadne’s attention drilling into his shoulders.
“So um, do you…come here often?” he asked, immediately kicking himself before the words even left his mouth. What kind of question was that!
An adequate one, apparently. Yue Gwey blinked once. “Somewhat frequently, I’d say. For all its old fashioned decor and outdated furnishings, the food here is far more palatable than at most of what passes for restaurants in the Outer sect. Their chef is at least capable of preserving most of the beneficial properties of his ingredients, even if the flavor is somewhat lacking.”
Calvin didn’t quite know what to do with that answer, even if it had been his own question. It was so disconnected from his reality the words barely made sense.
“And yourself?”
“It’s my first—second—time. I ate in the main dining room once.”
Gwey wrinkled her nose again and Calvin quickly decided to change the subject. “So I hear you’ve advanced another step up the ranking boards. Do you think you stand a good chance in this year’s tournament?” With the Inner disciple’s tournament concluded, the one for Outer disciples was coming up at the end of the quarter.
He’d hoped that would be a safer topic, but it just made her literally turn her nose up at him. “If I deign to compete, I shall most surely win. No other outcome is acceptable of a Yue.”
“Of course not,” he agreed quickly. His gaze drifted back towards where Ariadne had been standing, only to find her actually staring directly back at him. She’d found a place at the table opposite Garrian, giving her a clear view of him and Gwey.
“And ah, yourself? I understand victory in the Outer sect tournament is one of the few paths forward for those of more limited means and origins such as yourself. I don’t believe I’ve seen your name in the top hundred, but then again I’ve rarely bothered to look past the tenth name.”
He shrugged, letting the insult splash off him like water from a duck’s back. “Nah. And you won’t find me on the ranking boards. I’ve never seen a reason to fight for a spot. That’s time I could be cultivating.”
Her voice gained a faint edge. “So you are content to live out your life out toiling in the Outer sect?”
He shrugged again, frowning faintly. “I never said that. I just don’t think it’s worth my time fighting for and defending a spot in the top hundred or even thousand when I could be cultivating instead.”
The Outer sect had a whole system for determining a disciple’s combat ranking, with a thousand total available spots. Any Outer sect disciple could challenge someone in the top thousand for their spot, and they had to accept at least one fight a quarter as long as they were in the sect and someone wanted to challenge them. If you were in the top hundred, you had to fight at least once a month against someone in the top thousand to keep your spot. The top ten had it a little easier since only the top twenty had the standing to challenge them, but in theory they could be forced to fight as often as once a week to keep their spot.
That was a huge waste of time.
“If you check the appendix of the Outer sect guidebook in the archive, it specifies that the Outer sect is only meant for Gathering and Foundation realm disciples. As long as I remain a disciple in good standing, as soon as I advance I can move up to the Inner sect without the need for additional fees or trials.”
She scoffed. “As if it were so easy to reach the Core realm. Many cultivators of supreme pedigree and talent toil all their lives and never break through. It is not so simple as opening a few extra dantian or meridians, but a profound transformation.”
Without giving him a chance to respond, she half turned away and smiled at him tightly. “I believe I shall get a new drink. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Swan Pond.” Then she stalked away, hand hovering over the hilt of her saber.
Calvin stared blankly after her for a moment, then shrugged mentally. What was her problem?
He turned to a passing attendant, who stopped and presented him the tray balanced on her palm, bowing deeply at the waist as she did. A dozen small plates stood neatly arranged on the tray, each one bearing a single sliver of toasted bread spread with a bright red paste and adorned with tiny leaves, bits of well marbled meat cut into tiny cubes, and small yellow beads. He had absolutely no idea what it was supposed to be, but it smelled divine.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
He took two.
He copied the person he’d seen grab one earlier when he’d come in, popping one of the little half-sandwiches in his mouth whole. His eyes widened a moment later and he chewed enthusiastically, swallowing the morsel. The taste was divine, yes, creamy and spicy and savory all at once in a symphony of flavor, but that wasn’t what had surprised him. Instead, he suddenly understood what Gwey had meant about the food. The qi in the food was…orderly, processed, not just the raw energy of spirit beast meat and spiritual grains but almost like it was half way to being a pill. He could feel it spreading through his body, slowly tempering his spirit and organs. It wasn’t much, but if you ate like this every day…
He absently ate the second little sandwich, barely tasting it as he sampled its qi with his own. After a moment of focus, the Scroll tentatively reacted. Medicinal Hors D’oeuvres, Extremely Low quality.
He chewed slowly, trying to look deeper. There were some kind of spiritual nuts in the paste, and it had been refined with a technique such that it resonated with the energy in the little bits of meat and the grain in the bread. The end result was more than just the sum of its parts, the beneficial effects of the nuts focused and enhanced by the other ingredients.
It looked like a little sandwich, but in truth it was practically a pill, and one without many of the impurities needed to bind and preserve the ingredients into pill form. He’d had no idea that such a thing was possible!
Sure everyone knew that there were benefits to eating qi-infused foods like the meat of spiritual beasts and grains or vegetables grown in special soils by cultivating farmers, but he’d always thought that just meant that you could absorb some of that qi for yourself, like draining it from a spirit stone. But this was something far beyond that!
He happily accepted another tiny plate from a passing attendant heading in the other direction, this one bearing a single freshwater clam in half a clamshell filled with milky-white broth dotted with flecks of green herbs. He didn’t much like clams—they were slimy and gritty and had often made his stomach hurt—but he’d eaten a lot of them as a child. Clams were plentiful in the many streams and pools that crisscrossed the province, and while there were plenty of dangerous creatures even in the shallow water, they were much less common than their terrestrial brothers and diving for clams was a welcome escape from the scorching summer sun.
This clam was neither gritty nor slimy, and the broth was rich and herby with a sweet, slightly spicy aftertaste that lingered pleasantly on his tongue. He only got a faint hit from the scroll—Medicinal Clam Chowder, Extremely Low quality—but the tingly, sunshine warmth spreading through his body made him think the primary herbs were similar to those used for the Eight Peaks Tempering method.
He looked around, but none of the tray-carrying attendants were nearby. There was one a few tables over, but her tray was nearly empty already and there were a lot of people between him and it.
Before he could try to seek out another dish to sample, Ariadne reappeared by his side, a somewhat exasperated look on her face. “You couldn’t even talk to her for five minutes,” she sighed. “And here I thought the two of you would get on well enough.” Her disappointment was as obvious as a storm cloud on a sunny day, tugging lightly on his heartstrings.
Calvin shrugged, the majority of his attention still on looking around for more dishes to sample. “She said she wanted to go get a new drink.” Ariadne raised a single elegant eyebrow and he elaborated. “I don’t really know. We were just talking about the Inner sect and advancement to the Core realm and then she ran off.”
Ariadne sighed softly, leaning against his side in a way that made him painfully aware of the almost metallic-looking silky dress she wore under her disciple’s robes that draped artfully over her ample figure, and the floral undertones of her perfume. The number of people staring at him doubled.
She sighed softly, her breath like a spring breeze. “Of course it would be something like that,” she whispered, her voice barely audible even to his peak Foundation realm ears. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I’ve heard rumors that the governor’s favorite concubine,“ Calvin assumed she meant Gwey’s mother, “has been bottlenecked at the peak of the Foundation realm for over a century and is nearing the end of her lifespan.”
Calvin wasn’t very good at whispering, so he just sighed. That would certainly do it.
“Well,” Ariadne perked up, her voice returning to its usual cheerful volume, “I guess it wasn’t meant to be, but don’t let that discourage you! There are plenty of other eligible young women in the Outer sect!” She began to mumble to herself, subtly looking around the room. “Not her, not her, she’s engaged, we tried her…oh, maybe…”
She began to drag him away from his table towards a cluster of a half dozen young women when Calvin suddenly realized that he had the perfect way to temporarily get Ariadne off his back. “Senior sister, please. I appreciate your efforts, but there is no need for you to trouble yourself. Besides, I already have a date lined up for later in the week.”
Ariadne froze so suddenly that Calvin nearly crashed into her. She spun around, seizing his other arm and stepping towards him until they were standing practically chest to chest and nose to nose, her eyes boring into his. “You…have a date?”
Her yin qi was insidious, worming its way into his body and spirit from her touch, quickening his heartbeat and reddening his cheeks. With her standing so close to him it was impossible not to notice just how perfect she was, every inch of her elegant and seductive in a way no mortal woman could ever compare to. His skin tingled where they touched and she smelled of moonlight, rich earth, and growing things, a bouquet of gentle scents that made it hard to focus on anything but her.
He flared his own qi, trying to purge the effect, but was only partially successful. His eyes were still drawn magnetically down away from her face and he had to struggle to maintain his composure. He nodded quickly, leaning back slightly to avoid head butting her in the process. “I really do!”
She stared at him a moment longer, then suddenly released her grip on his arms and took a step back to a distance more appropriate for friends rather than something more. She pressed her hands together over her heart, a wide smile on her lips and her eyes big and bright. “Oh Calvin, that’s wonderful!” A flash of maniacal intensity shot across her face, so fast Calvin could almost delude himself into believing he’d imagined it. “I want to know everything.”
“Well,” he tried, “there really isn’t much to tell…” Ariadne’s expression didn’t waver and he grudgingly continued. “Her name is Gwen, and she’s another Outer disciple like us. She’s coming to my villa for tea later this week.” Most probably tomorrow, in fact.
Ariadne’s eyes narrowed fractionally. “That hussy Gwen Sternwood?”
Calvin shook his head.
“Ah, Gwen of Glassyshore Village?”
Calvin shook his head again.
Ariadne frowned. “I know no other Gwens within the Outer sect.”
Calvin smiled. “I’m not surprised. I think she’s been going by Cordwain,” or at least that was the name Uncle had given him. “She only joined a few years ago and is still preparing to break through to the Foundation realm.”
Ariadne gave him a look and suddenly he felt like he needed to justify himself. “She seems to be a talented alchemist and herbalist, and has only been cultivating for less than three years. And she’s the one who approached me!” Even if he had been the one to take the initiative to invite her over to his home.
Some part of that—Calvin wasn’t sure which—seems to mollify her, though she did mumble something about how ‘of course Gwen had been the one to approach him’ and not the other way around. Calvin felt vaguely offended—it wasn’t his fault none of the dates she had set up for him had worked out!
“That is…” she struggled with herself for a moment, eyes dropping towards the floor, “tentatively acceptable. I will…have to…” she trailed off, staring blankly at the ground for several long moments. Then, suddenly she was all smiles again, her eyes bright as they met his. “I hope it goes well, junior brother. You’ll have to tell me all about how it goes.” She tilted her head a fraction to the side, studying him intensely. “Over lunch, I think. Noon, a week from tomorrow at the Glistening Peach Tea House. Be there.”
“I might—“ but she’d already turned around and walked away, leaving him once again alone at a table surrounded by strangers. He could practically feel their eyes on him, questioning, judging. Why was he here, they seemed to ask. How dare he think himself worthy to stand among them?
The door on the other side of the room called to him. If he left now and looped around the outskirts of Outer Village to avoid the crowds, he could be back in his meditation room in about thirty minutes, maybe forty max. He’d only just started attuning his qi to the treasure in his spirit, but had already begun to notice a qualitative difference in the energy circulating through his channels. How much more progress could he make if he meditated through the night?
He glanced towards the door, then towards the nearest attendant. On the other hand, free pseudo-pills in the form of food.
Calvin had never turned down free food in his life, and he didn’t plan to start now when the food was also beneficial to his cultivation!
He drained the last of his cold—yet still extremely delicious—tea and went to what other goodies the attendants were bringing around. What were some stares and awkwardness compared to that?
QuestionableQuesting!
Patreon.com/ThatGit!
discord where I post updates and announcements about my writing and answer questions! Other people even sometimes say things in it!
