Tian thought Level Ten of the array might be his limit, which was irritating. It really shouldn’t be this hard, teamwork or not. There was blatantly a trick to it, but his hosts didn’t volunteer what it might be. He just kept dodging and trying to use the techniques Lin had provided to keep the crane engaged.
It was the crane that inadvertently discovered the secret. Beams of fire and water qi were coming at her head from two directions. She ducked at the last minute, and the beams collided, then vanished.
“Cycle of generation and restraint! Aha!” Tian grinned.
“Oh well done! I was quite worried for a while there.” Oily greased at him, but his itchy words couldn’t shake Tian’s happy mood. The discovery opened up so many options. Getting beams to cancel each other out was an obvious one, but he could see the number of beams only increasing at higher levels. Using metal to generate water to block fire, or wood to fuel fire and melt metal, were potential options. The real test would be doing that while pushing the beams of qi around and into each other, rather than relying on footwork.
“Oh, that’s why over Level Fifteen is Heavenly Person only. It’s not that the attacks get stronger, it’s because you need to control and redirect the energy to pass the levels. Something you can’t really do without external qi manipulation. A sort of high speed puzzle, getting more complicated the further you advance. Fun.”
Oily’s look changed from patronizing to startled, before quickly settling back. Doughy remained stoic, but nodded slightly. “Yep.”
Tian rubbed his hands. “On to Level Eleven. I am curious to see how far I can go.”
Oily sneered while he made the adjustments. “Yes, Level Ten is a bit embarrassing for a Daoist of your… notable accomplishments.”
Tian let the barb hang out in the air. He had noticed the young cultivator had been fiddling with his compass while he was struggling in the field. Manipulation of the beams seemed an obvious possibility. He was probably tasked with humiliating Tian and “blunting his momentum” or some other overly complicated nonsense.
And if that was the case, then Doughy was here for the same purpose. He didn’t seem to be involved in this challenge, so he was probably setting up for whatever came next.
Tian ran the possibilities as he guided the crane, the two working together to turn the rays against each other. It took careful timing and sharp dodging, but that was the point of all this- coordination and training. He hid a smile. The harder they went at him, the more intensely they trained him. He really couldn’t ask for better.
“Level Twelve, please.” The Snow Grace Crane was picking up on what he was communicating better than ever. It was to the point where he was becoming a little irritated and defensive. Was he really so bad at the games in the manual that she didn’t want to play along? He was using those super high quality fruits and fish meat too.
The crane spun around him, wings wide, providing just a hint of pressure downward to let her ungainly feet move quickly over the sand. The flashing red face at the end of the long, white neck reminded him of the red tassel that hung just below the spearhead on Liren’s spear.
“Oh DAMN IT ALL!” He stomped furiously, not stopping his dodging.
“Is there a problem, Daoist Tian?” Oily inquired, malice seeping through the paper thin politeness of his tone.
“Yes, I finally figured out why I was partnered with this specific crane.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Because we have similar temperaments.”
“Is that so?”
Tian didn’t elaborate. Of course the crane played the games for the food. The food was delicious. Of course it didn’t bond much with him while they were doing it. It was too simple. Too peaceful. One of Tian’s very favorite things in the whole world was sparring with his senior brothers. It seemed that the crane followed the implicit teachings of the West Town Outer Court. Eat Well, Trust Your Brothers, and Never Duck a Fight You Can Win.
They really were well suited.
“It could have been a gentle crane. A spirit of wild freedom moving in harmony with the world. Perhaps it wishes to become human to better understand laughter, or the joys of art.”
Did you really think that was possible? Did you really?
Tian sighed. When the bolts of energy started twisting like snakes and slashing like sabers, he could feel the crane’s simple happiness. Tian glanced up at the brilliant blue sky. The color seemed a little different up here, so high in the mountains. He should leave the bird to her fun and find a quiet rock to sit on. He could teach himself how to play a bamboo flute with seven fingers. He would get by swapping tea for food and more tea. A quiet life. Yes, a quiet, peaceful life.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
The crane started calling at him and aggressively flapping her wing to hurry him along.
“You sound like a gate with a squeaky hinge. I know you don’t know what that is, but that is exactly what you sound like right now.” Tian grumbled for a moment, then gave in. “Level Thirteen, please. Let’s see if we can’t take this all the way to the top.”
Level Thirteen and Fourteen slowed him down for almost an hour- the beams of energy had started varying their attack speed and tempo dramatically, along with all the changes in direction. The oily daoist wasn’t hiding his manipulation of the array any more. He couldn’t. Rivulets of sweat ran down his pale face as his fingers danced over his compass. Tian couldn’t imagine why. He was feeling nicely warmed up after the light workout.
He stifled a giggle. Imagine trying to cultivate immortality without refining your body. Imagine trying to cultivate immortality just relying on your ability to make arrays. What a bad joke.
“Let's give Level Fifteen a try, shall we? I’m curious to see what the peak of the Earthly Realm looks like.”
Oily didn’t have any cutting jabs this time. Tian was pretty sure he heard the daoist stifle a groan as he made the adjustments.
Level Fifteen was… exciting. Tian didn’t know how people from the Five Elements Courtyard managed it. He was quickly pushed to the limits of his concentration. Five beams of energy came in like twisting weeds or branching lightning, or up like sprouting bamboo. Some faster, some slower, always moving, always on the attack. His body could keep up, but trying to alert the crane to the movement of the energy, strategizing with her on how to block the beams or destroy them while he was tracking and dodging, left him gasping.
“There has to be a better way. There just has to be.” Tian put his back to the crane and they spun around, feeling each other move. Tian was leading, but he had to follow the crane’s movements too. He couldn’t force her to move like he did. He couldn’t force her to move at all. He could only lead, and trust that she saw a good reason to follow.
“The most dangerous words in any language are ‘Follow me.’ Some people will tell you it’s ‘Trust me’ or ‘I love you,’ but that’s just picking different ways of saying the same thing. Everyone can choose what to do with their life. Fate, destiny, Heaven’s will, sure. But you can choose, and so can everyone else. ‘I know better than you. Your life will be better if you do what I say.’ It takes a degree of arrogance to say something like that.” Tian could remember Brother Wong’s pointy smile as Tian painstakingly picked off the mildly poisonous spines from a Purple Spring Thornberry Thistle.
“They might be right. Or they might be trying to abuse your trust. Or they might simply be incapable and unworthy. Not everyone is capable of leading people. Few are, in fact, and fewer still should. Be very careful when someone tells you to follow them. Be even more careful when you tell someone to follow you. It’s a dreadful responsibility you are taking on. It’s life and death, or worse.”
Another memory intruded, this time it was Elder Rui, sitting in the meeting hall, explaining the journey they were about to set out on.
“The road to longevity has never been one everyone can walk. The Dao has always been transmitted from Master to Disciple, or through books whose esoteric meanings are understood only by the fated and the wise. It is that transmission of wisdom and experience that is the faith and foundation of orthodox cultivation. It is one reason we revere filial piety and persistently cleave to tradition. Generation after generation have seen for themselves that the ancestors' teachings are true.”
It was a fostering. He wasn’t commanding the crane, he was showing her the way to wisdom. It was the filial virtue a parent should show a child. The way Brother Fu taught him. With patience, and love. With boundaries and freedom in balance. With the courage to say “Follow me, because I am worth following.”
If the crane chose to awaken her wisdom, then they would be friends and comrades. For now, he would take the role of foster father, accept responsibility, and lead.
Tian and the crane sped up. Their movements smoothed out, the timing got sharper, their bodies were less stressed. Everything started flowing once Tian stopped trying to force the crane to follow his instructions. He led, and she was willing to follow. For now. So long as he kept making the right choices.
They danced around the practice field for five more minutes, then the crane hopped up on Tian’s shoulder and launched herself into the air as Tian dropped flat. One bolt of energy hit another, hit another, hit another- the cycle accelerating and growing… then collapsing. The system of elemental generation and restraint was a closed loop, and Tian had made sure the last struck bolt had nothing left to work on. With a burst of golden light, and the crackle of fireworks, the energy blew apart.
Tian dusted himself off for a moment, then rolled his shoulders and spread his arms wide. It felt so good!
The crane landed, perching with one big foot on each shoulder. Then she spread her wings wide too, glaring down on the two from the Five Elements Courtyard. He could feel the smugness radiating off of her.
“What? No, absolutely not. Off with you. You aren’t a parrot. You aren’t even a crow, or a raven or something. You are too damn big to be perched on my shoulders. Shoo. Shoo.” Tian tried to push the bird away, but she dug her claws in a bit and he didn’t achieve much. She was Level Nine. If she wanted to hang on to his shoulder, she would. She kept her wings out straight, displaying her dominance to their cowed hosts.
“Congratulations, Daoist Tian. It seems that you and your bird both cleared the Earthly Realm levels of our Nine Poles Eight Directions Field in a single day. A new record.” The heavy daoist didn’t sound that congratulatory. Tian felt the fake courtesy didn’t suit him. In retaliation, he dubbed the two the Fried Dough Daoists.
“Yes, thank you. It has been very enlightening.” Tian smiled warmly. “Perhaps one of you can demonstrate an easier way to do it? I must have made quite a laughable performance.”
“Ah, well perhaps another time.” Oily was failing to conceal his heaving chest or his sweat-soaked collar. Doughy wasn’t looking eager either.
“No time like the present! Fellow Daoists have had the advantage of watching your seniors perform, and of course, your own experiences clearing the array. I bet you can clear it just like that.” Tian’s fingers snapped, whip-crack sharp. His smile was warm and entirely genuine. “Please. I can’t wait to watch and learn.”