The Hall of Harmony was a meeting hall, generally reserved for the Elders or those holding responsible positions in the Monastery. The whole building was designed to foster a spirit of harmonious cooperation, or that’s what Tian had heard. It just looked like a building to him. Maybe the decoration had some significance for other people. For him, the other people were what was worth looking at, and they did not inspire feelings of harmonious cooperation.
Hong was the only one missing from the Windblown Manor group. Brother Wang, Sister Su and Sister Lin were sitting together, carefully eyeing the rest of the room. The rest of the room consisted of about fifty people. Tian knew most of them by sight, it was a small sect these days, but he didn’t know them. There were crafters, alchemists, warriors, builders, scholars… all sorts of people were represented, including many he couldn’t put a description to besides “fellow daoist.” And some of them made him itchy.
The chairs were set in two rows facing each other, running the length of the long room. There was a single chair at the head of the hall. All the seats looked the same, but Tian’s well honed instinct for smelling rats was alarmed.
Tian made his way over to Wang and the others, and greeted them with a cupped fist and a bow. “I thought I was early. It seems I made everyone wait.”
“You are early.” Sister Su’s voice was deadpan. “It’s just that everyone else was more eager.”
That made sense, so Tian nodded.
“Where’s Sister Hong?” Wang asked.
“Out of the sect, looking for dyes. I’m expecting her back any time now.” Tian answered.
“We hardly ever see you two apart. I had wondered if it was even possible.” Lin grinned.
“Mmm. We are trying to work through what we are, exactly. It’s pretty exciting, but I don’t have the faintest idea what’s going on. My brothers tell me that’s normal, though, so I’m not worrying about it.”
Tian found a seat. He noticed that every chair had arms, and every chair had a tiny table next to it. Too small to hold anything much bigger than a cup or small plate of snacks. An ominous feeling descended. Just how long did conversations take, in the Hall of Harmony?
The temple bell tolled, marking the Hour of the Horse. It was still some time until lunch. Tian hoped they would be taking breaks. Elder Rui entered through the back of the hall, and sat at the chair at the head of the room.
“Welcome, all of you. You have been invited to this meeting because, based on our survey of the sect, you all represent different schools of thought, or come from groups with a variety of focuses. The thinking and concerns of the spirit plant growers are not the same as the librarians, who differ from those who purely dedicate themselves to the martial path. Your instructions are simple: discuss what the sect should look like in the future. What principles should it uphold, what structure should it have, what should its aims be.”
Elder Rui stroked his slim mustache, calmly looking over the room.
“While your conclusions will not decide the ultimate outcome, it is important for us to understand the thinking and the wants of the Outer Court in this. Some day, perhaps soon, many of you will be the new elders and leaders of our sect. Your conclusions will certainly be taken into consideration and weighed seriously. So take this duty seriously, and think carefully. Above all, remember that we are one sect. Petty factionalism will turn us into what we know must exist outside the ward- the violence of brother against brother, father against son. And that, we cannot survive.”
Elder Rui let the charisma and authority of an Elder wash the room, then stood once more. “I look forward to seeing your results.”
Tian shared a look with Wang and the others. Wasn’t this an abbreviated version of what happened before they set out on the Windblown Manor? But if that was Starsieve’s arrangement, then what was the purpose of this meeting? Surely the actual decision makers didn’t have to go so far to gather information.
There was an awkward silence as no one was quite sure how to proceed. Then an older Level Nine stood. “Everyone, without someone to run the meeting, things will get chaotic. I, Kang Shanyuan, am not good at such things, but Senior Brother Mao Jianguo has experience with these matters. I nominate him to chair the meeting, and ask for your support.”
Tian got an itchy feeling from the man, so he put himself down as a no.
“I don’t know Brother Mao, could he please stand up and introduce himself?” A female voice called.
A tall man stood, with a neatly trimmed beard and a strong body filling his robes. His sword hung at his waist like it was simply part of him, yet there was an undeniable wisdom to his eyes. A swordsman and a scholar, then.
Tian had an immediate dislike of the man. The itchy feeling intensified.
“Though this Mao is lacking, he will do his best. If I may?”
Nobody objected, so he made his way to the head of the room and sat in the middle seat. Tian wondered about that for a second, then had to hide a grin. He was bait. Whether he knew it or not, he was bait. Someone was using him to test the mood of the room, and the outer court in general. And the rest of the room either didn’t care enough to fight him, or were pretty curious to see the answer too.
Tian started carefully examining brother Mao.
“Brothers and Sisters, our assignment is simple, but not straightforward. We are called upon to give our opinion on the future of the sect. Yet if we all start shouting ideas, nothing will be achieved. Therefore, before we begin dealing with the debate in earnest, let us establish some rules for the meeting.” Tian nodded. That made sense. He had sat through far too many circular conversations over snacks.
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“Grandpa, Rule Number Three?”
Yep. The kind of person that gets things done, but…
“He looks very comfortable in that chair. Very natural.”
Doesn’t he just?
“For now, let us simply restrict ourselves to the rule of filiality. Those who are eldest and most experienced have the most to offer the conversation. Naturally, we will open up the conversation to everyone later, but for now, let us take as a rule that those at the peak of Level Nine and at least one hundred and sixty years old will be the ones with the right to speak. This should limit us to the wisest and strongest, as well as ensuring we communicate well.” Brother Mao’s voice was smooth, and utterly reasonable.
And just like that, Tian understood what the purpose of the meeting actually was, and what role he had to play in it.
“No. Fight me.” Tian stood, cupped his fist and bowed.
The room went silent. Even the others from the Windblown Manor were giving him odd looks. It didn't matter. This was going to be a long day, and he wasn’t going to make it any longer.
“I beg your pardon?”
“That’s a good start.” Tian nodded. “But forgiveness is earned by deeds. I don’t agree to having my voice silenced at this meeting. I’m not open to persuasion on this. There are no clever words you can use, no social pressure you can put on me, no subtle threats that will make me fall in line. So step down, suggest something else, or fight me.”
“Do… do you really think that is the proper way to behave? Do you have any idea where you are, or what eyes are on this meeting? That you are beyond the reach of the disciplinary squad?” Mao looked disbelieving.
“Yes, Yes, don’t know, don’t care, shut up and box or I’m kicking you out of that chair and putting in someone competent.” Tian had learned a lot from his siblings, and particularly Hong. There was a momentary pang of regret. To be led so far astray by evil companions. He would have to repent by properly educating them later. Peaceful, respectful communication was the proper way to do things, and above all, people should plainly say what they mean.
“Young man-”
“Oh, Brother Mao thought I was joking. I’m afraid this little daoist is rather literal.”
Tian moved from his seat like a flowing ghost, soundless and swift, moving in a straight line towards the chair at the head of the room. Yet, despite that, the watching eyes struggled to follow him. His presence was illusory, almost smeared in a ribbon of shifting images as he raced down the hall.
Brother Mao was an expert. He stood and drew in one smooth motion, cutting directly for Tian’s head. At the second to last moment, he turned the blade and slowed his swing, clearly intending to strike with the flat. At the actual last moment, Tian slipped past the blade, his body moving bonelessly, stepping around the chair and turning to face Mao’s back. The swordsman wasn’t a fool. He hopped forward, gained distance, spun around, and dropped into a guard. Then froze. Tian made no move to follow up. He simply rested his hands on the back of the chair.
The empty chair.
“I heard that Disciple Fu’s son was kind and retiring, preferring a humble life of service rather than leading the masses. His name seemingly inverse to his nature.” Mao spoke slowly. He wasn’t sweating, but Tian could see the tension in his hands and posture.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“And yet, there you are.”
“Here I am.” Tian nodded. “Must I stay here?”
“It’s not so easy to leave.” There was an edge to Mao’s voice now.
“You managed fine. Must we all stay here? In our ordered rows? Carefully ranked and regimented, superior and inferior, our roles frozen forever in time, trapped together under this ward?”
“There must be order-”
“Must there?”
“If anything is to be accomplished, yes!” Mao nodded strongly.
“That makes sense. But let me ask you this. We are all here, on this mountain, under this ward, because the eldest of the sect failed to both lead and teach, then let everything go to hell once his heart was dead. So far as I know, none of the other elders did a single damn thing to stop the horror that descended on this sect and the people it is meant to protect. In fact, everyone in the sect is complicit in the sect’s sins. Not a single person has clean hands. Not me, not you, no one.”
Tian’s voice carried through the hall, the words he had bottled up for more than a year now spilling out.
“We have all lost brothers and sisters. We all carry the scars from the Redstone Wastes. So, while I consider myself quite filial, why in the hell would I assume any old bastard knows better than me? You want me to follow? Show me you are worthy to lead. Want me to be fraternal? Show me you are a brother. And if you can’t? Fight me or fuck off.”
The intensity in the hall reached a peak. Mao drew in a slow breath and brought his sword up to a high guard, parallel with his eyes.
“I, Mao Jianguo, may be limited in my means, but I can at least say I honor my elders and maintain my virtue. It seems I will have to instruct junior brother on why the heavens have-”
Tian threw the chair at him, and rushed in behind it. Too much nonsense, too much nonsense, why was there always so much nonsense?! Why did people keep insisting on these stupid games? Weren’t they tired? Hadn’t they all been through hell? Was this fun?
Mao quickly shifted left to dodge the chair, then closed distance. His feet moved in an esoteric pattern, covering the ground without revealing his next move, while the tip of his sword never left Tian’s brow. A slim white hand landed on the flat of the blade, and before Mao could make a move, the hand closed. Trapping the razor sharp steel in water-soft flesh, fingers pinching the blade to palm. The cutting edge a bare hairsbreadth from skin, and infinitely unable to reach it. Then Tian fell back, and Mao, for all his strength, couldn’t hold on to the sword. Tian flung it away, then rushed back in.
Mao wasn’t slack, throwing out two knives that dove for Tian’s legs like falcons. Too slow. Tian was within arms reach in far less than a second. The left hand circled, blocking the counter attack. The right hand thrust forward. The gap in Mao’s defense was small, and momentary. The slim hand slipped through, and landed softly on the bigger man’s chest.
The Proud Dragon Repents. Tian supposed he would have to wait and see if it was true. Mao collapsed onto the floor, the shattered chair laying on the floor beside him.
“Brother Mao has fulfilled his role, and should rest. Consequently, we are without a chair that sits above us, and without a person to sit in it. Fortunately, we all have our own chairs. I nominate Sister Su to lead the meeting. She’s a bit young, and not at the peak of level nine, but she has a marvelous way of getting to the point and not playing stupid, boring, games. I think we can skip straight past a good deal of nonsense this way, and we all have places we could more usefully be. So how about a round of applause for Sister Su?”