Tian thought the sect-issue tents were very strange looking. The little lean-tos and nests he built with Grandpa were circles or rectangles. These were more like three sided pyramids, if a pyramid had one corner dragged way, way out. You could sleep lying flat along the long side or sit up in the exact middle of the short side. The pointy end was to be set facing the wind. And that was that. It didn’t make the least bit of sense. Why not build it even lower to the ground if you were worried about the wind? Why make it a triangle instead of a rectangle?
It was bizarre. But when they were staked out, you had a tent that was sealed on every side, sturdy, and worked even better than the protective clothes to filter out the toxic earth and fire qi of the desert. Tian sat in it for a minute. Nothing special happened. He laid out his bedroll and put down a couple of looted cushions just for fun. Then put them away because they were annoying to walk over. Then put them back because now he was by the door and they weren’t in the way anymore, and he had the urge to make the dark space at least feel brighter, even if it wasn’t actually any brighter.
“I need to go check on Brother Long,” Tian sighed. There was only so much his tent could do to distract him.
It turned out the Senior Brother who got a spear through his gut was surnamed Long, a common name for cultivators. This Senior Brother Long preferred fighting with a long spear. Believing himself to be peerless with a spear within the same realm, Senior Brother Long immediately attacked a heretic carrying a shorter spear and a shield during the ambush.
His fight ended when the heretic blocked Long’s spear upwards with their shield, and buried their shorter spear in his gut. Brother Long grabbed the spear shaft behind the head and fell backwards, taking the spear with him. With a last burst of strength, he managed to swing his own long spear around with a single hand, hard enough to break the legs of the retreating heretic.
Someone else finished the job. Tian didn’t really care who. He didn’t really care about the details of the fight either. Brother Long just felt it was really important to tell him, narrating every jab, thrust, sweep, slam, advance and retreat. Tian couldn’t fault him for that. Brother Long was in a lot of pain, and telling the story helped distract him. Tian didn’t know acupuncture, didn’t have any good pain relieving medicines, and had sternly forbidden alcohol as it would only speed the bleeding and worsen the infection. Brother Long was in for a bad night.
It might also be his last one. The first aid had slowed the damage, but hadn’t stopped it entirely.
Brother Long lay in his tent. Tian crouched next to him, doing his best to try and diagnose the problem beyond “spear through the gut.” The senior brother was feverish, animated, sweating. A yang phase disease then, though which phase he didn’t know, and under these circumstances, it didn’t matter.
Yang disease should be treated by cooling and removal or withholding to return the body to health and balance. But that was easier said than done.
Cooling a body in the desert at night? Nothing would be easier. It got cold enough to make a mortal’s teeth chatter. But that was external, and the body would fight to keep the heat in the organs when he wanted it to do the exact opposite. How to cool the internal organs then? He did have yin medicine, but none of it was for treating infection like this. Worse, his half-baked diagnostic abilities had only narrowed the diagnosis to “yang phase infection as a result of ruptured intestines and possibly other organs, I can’t exactly cut him open to have a look around, well I could but I might as well slit his throat first as the result would be the same either way.”
“You look worried, Little Doctor Tian.” Brother Long grimaced, trying to smile through the pain.
“Very. I still haven’t figured out how to brew the Autumn Fire tea I brought.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s a red tea, Senior Brother Long, and it’s not common so no one is really sure about the best way to brew it. I could experiment, but that feels wasteful.”
“Are the tea leaves red or more of a black color?” He was gasping a little as he spoke, but the senior’s eyes were bright and interested.
“I’d say… very dark red verging on black in places. Actually some of the leaves are black. Does Senior Brother have an idea?”
“Usually when the term ‘red tea' is used, it refers to the color of the tea once the tea has been brewed. The leaves themselves are usually fully fermented which adds a sweet, tart flavor to the infusion. And the fermented leaves are usually black. Merchants transport it pressed into plates and bricks. I guarded a merchant convoy- pressed plates with the seal of the merchant company on them, made from black tea leaves. I killed so many bandits, my spear crossing the sky like heavenly lighting… The first infusion is the best but you can use the leaves up to ten more times. For the red teas I have brewed, anyway.”
“Senior Brother Long! I didn’t know you were an expert at tea!” Tian cupped his hands and bowed. “Thank you for resolving my confusion.”
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Haha. Ow. Ha. It sounds like your leaves were partially fermented. Use boiling water to steep it.”
“Hmm. I’d offer you some, Senior Brother, but I’m worried it will be too yang. Would you like some green tea? I’m told my green tea leaves are terrible, but I think it tastes okay.”
“Life is… too short… for bad tea. Haha. Here. Brew me a pot of this. You can keep the leaves. It’s my usual green tea. Cloud Grace Valley. The first pick of the season. Three spirit crystals a quarter-pound. Not the most luxurious, but I think the flavor for the price cannot be beat.”
The light was fading from Brother Long’s eyes. Tian had seen it before. The final radiance before the sunset. His diagnosis after the ambush had been too optimistic. Brother Long would never have made it back to the Depot, even if they ran with the stretcher the whole way.
Maybe if the Inner Court Disciple carried him on his flying sword- but that had never been mentioned as a possibility by anyone. Ever. In fact, the only people he had seen flown into the hospital in need of medical care were the Inner Court Disciples. Presumably there was a reason for letting good brothers die like this. He couldn’t imagine what it might be. But there was surely something.
He really, really wanted to know what it was.
Brother Long didn’t even wish for evacuation. He hadn’t mentioned it even once. There must be something Tian didn’t know. But there wasn’t anyone here he trusted to provide the right answer. He certainly wasn’t going to ask True Disciple Ku.
True Disciple Ku looked like a rock thrower. Actually, he looked like the one with the rock thrower. The one that watched the throwing, laughed, and pulled the thrower onto something more interesting. That’s what True Disciple Ku looked like. Someone watching a show. The suffering was just a little funny, but not important. It certainly couldn’t be allowed to interfere with his good business.
“Senior, I’ve warmed the cups, but where should I spill the water?
“Don’t spill it, just put it back in the kettle. Can’t waste water in the desert, junior! Hahaha. Ow.”
Tian did what he was told. It was something he had learned from watching the younger doctors and doctor’s assistants. Sometimes, when you can’t do anything for someone, you can be a distraction. They can think about you and not their pain. It makes things a little easier on them. Sometimes it will help someone recover. Other times, it makes the passing gentler. Tian wasn’t good at chatting, but he had learned how to make tea and ask questions. It worked pretty well.
“So what can you tell me about this tea, Senior Brother? I really need to learn my teas, so I’m sorry for imposing.”
“Ah, Cloud Grace Valley is a wonderful place. Soft spring rains come and gently soak the soil, not damaging the fragile trees or the little buds…” Brother Long started to ramble, and when he stopped, Tian would ask another question. He helped Brother Long sip his tea, and had a sip of his own. It was a little sweet, a little bitter, and wonderfully fragrant. Like the leaves warming in the sun after a spring rain.
Brother Long would break off mid sentence, or start talking about his battles and adventures along the Green Snake River. How he fought the cultivator thugs recruited by an evil landlord, the washouts from the sort of minor sects that can only offer a path to banditry and becoming a wealthy mortal’s guardian.
The old warrior returned again and again to a city filled with osmanthus trees and wide sidewalks filled with hawkers. Brother Long remembered sipping tea in a teahouse with Xiaoxiao, and how beautiful her smile was, the soft shine of the copper phoenix hairpin he gave her, and the sound of her zither as she played in the gazebo while the spring rain fell and life was so beautiful, so beautiful and fragile and gone like the scent of tea and the taste of lips and the light of an old flame.
Brother Long slipped into unconsciousness for an hour before he died. Tian sat with him until the end. It was all he could do for his brother. When the pulse was gone and the moaning breaths had stopped, he called for Sister Hong. She came and confirmed Brother Long’s passing, collected his storage ring, made some notes on a lead tablet, then bowed to Tian before turning to leave.
Tian didn't understand why she bowed, so to be safe, he bowed back.
“Don’t forget the tea, Sister Hong. It’s worth three spirit crystals a quarter-pound, and there is a quarter pound here. Expensive stuff.”
“No. It’s not. And it’s yours. Every. Every leaf of it is yours. Don’t serve it to me. I brought my own tea. You can make that tea for me. Not this one.”
“What do you mean it’s-”
“These tents aren’t soundproof, you little idiot. You… stupid, stupid, ugly boy. He gave that tea to you. Everyone in the camp knows. The scorpions probably know.” She turned and walked out into the night.
“What the hell did I do to deserve that?” Tian wondered. Silently, because apparently the tents weren’t soundproof. He collected Brother Long’s body into his storage ring with the others. They would be properly cremated back at the Depot. For now, he could only keep them out of the hands of people who would defile them. Not a subject he took lightly after the necromancer raid. Cultivator corpses were valuable to the heretics.
Tian had looked for the Metal Burning Powder that Brother Su had used. It wasn’t provided by the sect, and he couldn’t afford to have it made. Auntie Wu might have a point about needing more money.
He walked towards the wounded sister’s tent, but she called out- “No need, Little Doctor Tian. I will be fit to move by morning. You can rest now.”
How she could be mobile by morning, Tian didn’t know. Maybe she had a particularly good healing medicine. He bowed towards her tent, and went back to his own. The cushions didn’t look particularly fun now. They hadn’t been very fun before, but now they felt lonely. He sighed, and set them up like someone was sitting there. Maybe Brother Long could rest a while before he went on his way.
Tian went to bed and closed his eyes. He began cycling The Advent of Spring, losing himself in the rhythms of his breath and consciously relaxing every muscle in his body. He started at the crown of his head, and one muscle group at a time, worked his way down. He made it to his hips. Then he was asleep.
That night, he dreamed of a woman playing a zither in the rain, smiling as the water ran over her face and sprayed from the strings. The sound was muted, distorted. Her smile was sad. Still, she played on. Welcoming her love home.