It took the sword attendant a few moments to recover. Once he had returned to himself, he patted his chest and reached into his robe. He quickly shuffled through a pack of cards and held up one. On it was written “Teacher?”
“Mmm. A certain senior asked us to look after you. Not forever. We just need to remove the Heavenly people who might be coming for your life, and do what we reasonably can to help you survive somewhat longer than you otherwise would.” Tian’s lips quirked. “You have cards prepared for the words you want to say?”
Another card, this one worn shiny, with the corners rounded from frequent handling. “The same things come up a lot.”
Tian’s quirking lips were involuntarily pulled up at one corner into a half smile. To distract himself from the unseemly enthusiasm, he pressed on. “The Heavenly people aren’t likely to attack you directly, and you couldn’t do anything about them anyway if they did, so don’t worry about them. You need to worry about mortals, and that’s going to be on you to deal with. In order to help you help yourself, I will teach you some body strengthening methods, a palm art… I can see you practice a light body art. The one I practice isn’t suitable for you, but I expect I can help you use yours better.”
He tapped the flute against his lips. “That sword of yours is no good. My Dao companion can teach you a bit of spearmanship. That will keep you alive much better than… that. Or if you prefer, I can teach you how to use a rope dart?” Tian looked hopeful. The young man looked awkward and shuffled through his cards again.
“I am a swordsman.” This card was practically worn into pieces. He’d have to replace it soon.
“No, you are a mortal man, which means your reach is pretty limited.” Tian stood from the table and stowed his flute. He pulled out a boat pole to replace it. “Draw your sword.”
The young man did, not without some reluctance.
“Good. Try to cut me.”
The boy started to lunge, and banged his head against the outstretched pole. The next few tries all ended the same way. It’s not that Tian was impossibly fast. It was just a long stick, and he was strong enough to keep it extended for as long as he liked. Han tried to dodge a few times, but it made no difference.
“And so we see the superiority of the long pointy stick over the short pointy stick. You can keep the sword as a backup, if you must. But before we get to that, let me demonstrate the palm arts I plan on teaching you, as well as the body strengthening skills. Then we can talk about what kind of price you can offer. You may just spend your whole life paying me back. Which, depending on how well you learn, could only be a day or two. Isn’t that lucky?”
A half hour later, Tian could see that Han was completely sold. More than that, he looked worryingly excited. He had out a small, light gray slate, which he wrote on with a brush dipped in water. The characters lasted just long enough to be read, before fading away. He had excellent handwriting.
“The Dragon Suppressing Palms comes with its own energy gathering technique?”
“Technically, yes.” Tian wiggled his hand in the air, then corrected himself. “I shouldn’t say ‘technically,’ it does come with a breathing technique for gathering vital energy and helping a mortal convert it to qi.”
Tian decided not to point out that twice nothing was still nothing, in part because it wasn’t entirely accurate. It was more like twice almost nothing was still almost nothing. Strictly speaking, it was an improvement.
“More importantly, I can provide you with an ointment that will nourish the yang qi in you. It’s quite good stuff.”
He left out “For a mortal.” It was probably implied. Besides, he wasn’t going to charge extra for it, so there was really nothing to complain about.
“Amazing!”
Han could write very quickly, Tian noticed, while maintaining the neatness of his characters. It was quite a feat.
“A body strengthening skill, a poison and disease resistance skill, a yang qi cultivation method, palm arts… sold! What do you need from me? I’m told gold and silver are worthless to immortals, let alone an ancient with an age-reversion art like yourself.”
Tian silently added “Whoever is spreading rumors about age reversion arts” to his list of people to take terrible vengeance upon. The urge to claim he was indeed an ancient who remembered the days when the mountains were young swiftly landed on him, and swiftly departed. It wasn’t good to lie to your students, especially when they could tell when someone was lying.
“Be true to yourself. Conduct yourself in the world in a way that won’t make me ashamed to acknowledge you as my student. Do your best to uphold the virtues of compassion, humility and frugality, though I won’t expect a man of the rivers and lakes to hold them to the same degree as a… mountain ascetic like me. And, Han? I am an ascetic. I do what I believe is right, not what will profit me the most. To slightly mis-quote the single most powerful being I have ever met, I will not restrict you once you reenter the secular world, but should you disgrace my teachings, consequence will find you. Quickly.”
Tian let his qi fill the courtyard. It was a gentle rising, like the tide called up by the moon, or the long steppe grass reaching for the sun. Gentile, alive, and utterly inescapable. Vast beyond mortal comprehension.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Tian was, by the standard of the Myriad Colors Holy Land, barely into the second stage of his novitiate. By the standards of the cultivators of the Broadsky Kingdom, he was an expert strong enough to suppress a small region. By mortal standards?
There was already one shrine erected in his honor in Burning Flag City. A second wouldn’t be difficult to obtain.
Han fell to his knees, head pressed into the dirt. Tian smiled awkwardly. It seemed Voidcatcher was right about yet another thing. Tian released his qi and squatted down in front of Han. With soft hands, he reached out and straightened the young man up.
“I don’t like people genuflecting to me. It makes you look too much like frogs. A human should live on their feet, not their knees.”
Once Han had calmed down enough, Tian ran him through the Calisthenics and Gourmet. When Han had the basic movements down, they switched over to reviewing the youth’s light body art.
It was a bit of a struggle, but Tian managed to conceal his irritation at seeing this mortal effort being called a light body art. What did that make Moon Crossing the Lake? An earth folding spell? But technically the youth was actually using his internal energy to make his body a fractionally lighter and more nimble, so it wasn’t actually misnamed. The vital energy flow was absolutely trash, but that was a separate issue. One he was going to fix.
“Alright, please stop.” Han looked inexplicably proud. “I’m guessing you practice that a lot?”
The slate came out. “It is my best technique.”
“I’m so sorry. That’s not a light body art. That’s a tragedy. I have seen stray dogs in the rain that looked less miserable.” Tian made an effort to use his kindest voice to soften the blow. “But the good news is that your insul… your trash… your… thing, is fixable. Give me a few days to experiment, and I’ll… let’s go with adjust it for you into something usable.”
Han sagged. Tian patted him on the back. “Look, I’m not being accurate for no reason. Your light body technique is a key piece of keeping you alive. It has to be as high quality as possible, even if it’s basic. The first light body technique I learned was also really, really basic, but still quite good. Really. Here, I’ll demonstrate. Hold out your pointy stick.”
With a look of quiet grief, Han extended his sword. Tian lightly hopped up and landed on the blade. The sword didn’t even flex. Judging from the shock on Han’s face, there wasn’t any strain on his wrist either.
“Would you believe that I’m heavier than you? By a lot?” Tian grinned. “This is what I would consider an acceptable level of mastery in an entry level light body technique.” For an Earthly Realm cultivator, but it was important to provide motivation. Probably. For some reason, the handsome young man, already at the threshold of six foot even, made him a little irritated. Tian felt Liren turn and start making her way back towards the courtyard. She would be here in just a few minutes.
“That’s enough for today. Eat well, and practice what I taught you tonight. Come again tomorrow morning. I’ll have the ointment ready for you, and depending on how things go, we might spend all day building your foundations up a bit. Dissolving you with snake venom and rebuilding your body from scratch would be faster, but everyone looks at me like I’m crazy when I suggest it. There probably aren’t enough lotuses around anyhow. We’ll just do it the slower, less effective way.”
Once he had shooed away Han, he raced around and tidied everything up again. Once he had everything just so, he set out his secret weapon from the Beggar’s Guild once again, refreshed the water in the tea kettle, and settled back down behind the table. He liked the idea of playing the flute. That had been a good addition. Feeling that Liren was barely a minute away, he pulled it out and started to play. It was a tune he had heard in a tea house, light and vibrant and sweet. With this, his ambush was perfect.
Liren returned to the courtyard to find a miniature immortal garden. The plants and trees seemed to conspire to make a backdrop for the young man reclining at his little table. His long white hair blew gently in the breeze, as he lost himself in the music of his flute. Even the hot afternoon sun could only fulfill the role of beautifying him, softened by the pure white paper of his umbrella. Even that carried a theme of joy- painted on that white umbrella paper were vivid purple orchids.
Liren staggered, clutching her chest. Tian didn’t give her time to recover. He stowed the flute in his belt and hopped to his feet. In two darting steps, he crossed the courtyard, long white hair fluttering behind him. His slender hand reached up, gently removed Liren’s hat, and sent it flying away.
He loved her face. He loved her high cheekbones, and the arch of her eyebrows and the vivid red that lit up her hair. He loved the way the sun brought out the shine in her bronze skin, and loved the way she looked so stunned, so lost to see the love in him. He loved the way her hair felt between his fingers, soft and springy and lively. He loved the way the back of her head fit the hollow of his hand.
He loved that when his eyes asked her a question, she said yes. He loved that when he pulled her close, she bent to him. He loved the way his lips felt upon hers. He loved that when he pulled back and asked again, her eyes said he was a fool, and her lips came for his. They sat on the pillows by the little table in the garden, shaded by the orchid umbrella, and carefully cataloged the things they loved about each other. Sometimes, immortal moments were made, not found.
Later, after the sun had set and the moon shone upon the youngsters, Liren declared that the umbrella was “cheating,” and demanded to know where he had obtained such a treacherous thing. Tian rubbed his hands together and announced that it was all a scheme of long standing, and he was always six moves ahead.
“I usually beat you at chess, though.”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant. I can assure you, I am an excellent schemer.”
She grinned at him, and rested her head against his chest. “No, you aren’t. But you are my favorite one.”
They snuggled a bit longer. Then, Liren said “You are absolutely forbidden from going out in public with that umbrella. I’m strong enough to stand the impact, but unless you want to spend the next century making bunk beds for your harem, it’s just not safe.”
They watched a nightingale bob around on a tree branch, the golden feathers at its throat catching stray moonbeams. It sang, high and prettily, calling for another. The crickets and buzzing cicadas added their songs, each playing alone, yet making a wonderful harmony in the stillness offered by the secluded courtyard.
Outside the palace, the city bustled. The inns were rowdy, heroes and villains mingled in the winehouses, the brothels blazed with light as the barkers called out to passing travelers and merchants to come see the show. They, too, contributed to the song of the city, trilling skyward in the quiet of the steppe.
The heavens above, the earth below, and between them, humanity. Singing in the silence, their notes were grief and courage and so much more. How could the dao be expressed in just two strings? How could a single voice express its entirety? It took everyone, everywhere, all at once, forever. An immortal moment. It could only last an instant, or an eternity.