Li Xun was not a man who frequently attended formal banquets.
This was not truly by his own choice. He hated the format of course. Being placed next to an arbitrary pair of his fellow daoists, or senior members of the gentry, rarely yielded conversations worth the breath expended. And that was making the optimistic assumption that lesser guests were granted leave to speak at all. It was not uncommon, or considered inappropriate, for the discourse of their host to dominate the gathering. Li Xun greatly preferred the less formal gatherings usually favored by scholars and daoists.
He had not clawed his way to the rank of full daoist to serve as decoration in some petty noble's court.
But on the rare occasion he did receive an invitation to such a function, his attendance was a foregone conclusion. It was not the case that all invitations were so inescapable. He simply did not cultivate the sort of social relationships that yielded courtesy invitations, like personal friendships with his peers in the other three great sects, or ties to lesser gentry. Twice, it had been Sect Master Xiang that summoned him. Once, the Qianlong Emperor himself, through whichever minister had been in charge of distributing war honors in his name. Even by the standards of emperors, the Qianlong was said to be a detached ruler who greatly favored delegating his authority.
The Azure Mountain Sect was not the imperial court, but it had a ceremonial life of its own. One that typically did not require his participation. This was the first time Ren Yuhan had ever called upon him. It was also the first time he'd ever been genuinely excited to attend a banquet. Sect Master Xiang had been a man he respected greatly, but a senior outer disciple would never actually exchange words with a man like him at such an event. And despite the material benefits that had accompanied it, he'd been too consumed with fear and indecision to truly appreciate his imperial commendation.
"Daoist Scouring Medicine." The daoist at the gate greeted him, bowing a hair lower than strictly necessary.
"Daoist Thousand Eyes." Li Xun said, genuine warmth in his voice. "It is good to see you returned to us in safety."
Given the sort of notaries in attendance, it would have been the very height of madness to even consider crashing such a banquet. Li Xun had not seen the guest list, but there would be at least three Nascent Soul cultivators present, if one rounded the sect master up. Possibly four or more if the seventh prince had a dao protector beyond whoever the Xiao Clan had sent as their representative, or if any of the other great sects or clans had sent a ranking representative. And the sheer volume of core formation cultivators probably represented an even greater threat of detection for any would be interloper. He'd be shocked if there were fewer than twenty in attendance, and there might well be closer to fifty. But if one was going to assign an unnecessary gate guard, Daoist Thousand Eyes was as good a candidate as any.
Little could pass beneath his vision without notice.
Daoist Thousand Eyes was not a large man. He stood half a head below Li Xun, on the shorter side by any standard. His face was thin and his body wiry, and his sect robes hung awkwardly on his frame. He likely hadn't worn them in the better part of a decade. And he still wore that stupid straw hat. It must be eighty years old by now, probably a lesser spiritual treasure by sheer virtue of use. His qi was quiet, but omnipresent. It wove and wended its way through the dusk air, pervading everything. Daoist Thousand Eyes was getting close to the Great Circle of Foundation Establishment now. His time in the south would not have been easy, but it had clearly come with some benefits.
"A hundred springtimes afield cannot match a single autumn evening in the shadow of one's own mountain." Daoist Thousand Eyes said softly. Beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes drifted upward. They rose to stare at the highest peaks of the sect, shrouded by clouds. Of course his less obvious powers of perception never left Li Xun. Daoist Scouring Medicine carefully schooled his face, ruthlessly crushing the twinge of emotion the sentiment brought forth.
It had been true for him too once. When had it stopped being so? Was it when he'd received news by letter of his parent's deaths, unable to even quit the field to properly mourn them? When he'd accepted he would never attain the rank of inner disciple. When he'd understood that if he was ever to rise to a meaningful position within the sect it would be by becoming a full daoist through his own power? Had it been when he and Cao Renshu had fallen out over the depths he was willing to stoop to in pursuit of victory? Or had it been when Elder Lu had foisted that ill-fated disciple upon him, making mockery of his supposed independence?
"Your invitation?" Daoist Thousand Eyes prompted, jolting Li Xun out of his recollections. He didn't think it was a technique, for all that his peer was skilled at that sort of subtle thing. He gently cycled his qi anyway, monitoring for abnormalities. He would need to watch for such techniques all through the gathering. Subtle mental manipulations were as frowned upon as his poisons by the orthodoxy, but what could not be proved had no happened. Elder Lu certainly had them, and he'd be shocked if Elder Wordwake and many of the clan daoists did not as well.
Li Xun handed the letter over.
"All seems to be in order." Daoist Thousand Eyes said mildly. His eyes darkened for a moment, so quick one could miss it if they were not paying attention. "Be careful, Li Xun."
"Be well, Xiong Renshu."
Daoist Thousand Eye's nose crinkled ever so slightly. He never did like his given name. Daoist Scouring Medicine stepped past his junior. He supposed that well meaning forbearance was the best he could expect from the man.
Some of his fellow daoists had approached him after Li Hou's heaven-defying performance. But those three men had not been motivated by sentiment, but by avarice. They'd seen something in his disciple's skillset that they'd wanted, whether for themselves or their own students, enough to risk tarnishing their names by association. He'd seen them off with promises of benefits as empty as their offers of support. It was a start, but he had little use for fair weather friends that weak.
Daoist Scouring Medicine ghosted across the empty courtyard, feeling oddly a trespasser in his own sect. Light poured out from the open door, but neither noise nor qi came with it. The hall's formation had been activated to ensure their revelries didn't render half the outer sect insensate if tempers rose. Rarely had he ever felt more like a ghost in his own life than he did standing there at the threshold looking in.
He blinked, and took a deep breath. What a stupid thing to think. He'd made his choice, hadn't he? Decided that he would quit this place he'd once loved, pursue the things he desired with all his strength. Freedom. Core Formation. The heights of alchemy. A legacy that would be truly his own, not what the sect made of him. Facilitating whatever fool pursuit Li Hao eventually dedicated himself to. A ghost practicing the motions of cultivation he might once have been. But no more.
Li Xun exhaled, and stepped across the threshold into the Hall of Rarefied Heights.
The air within the hall was thin. The qi was not. The air swam with power, a riotous storm of potential and intent that pressed against his skin. Were the power a hair less fractitious, less dominated by dozens of disparate wills, the air within the hall would have been as good a place to cultivate as any of the sect's spirit springs. The qi was likely dense enough that a disciple could have attempted to break through into Foundation Establishment, if they somehow found a method that could accommodate such chaotic power.
Li Xun breathed in, relishing the way the electric pressure dried his mouth and pricked at his lungs. He cycled his qi, letting his dantian shift toward the aspect of fire. Life and power rushed through his meridians. Let it all burn. Their influence, his fears, all that was not in accordance with the man he wished to become, he cast into the flames.
He could feel his face flushing from the internal heat, the technique lending him the first traces of a drunkard's complexion.
Dozens of eyes, and countless more subtle senses, passed over him. Li Xun hardly knew where to begin. He'd never been that sort of social. It had always been all too easy for him to justify to himself why another might not appreciate him approaching them.
But then, having nothing of worth to say had never stopped his disciple from wagging his tongue. Li Xun plastered a monkey grin across his face, and waded into the reception.
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"I am disappointed that the Qianlong has not yet rescinded the levy for support of the southern border." The speaker wore the robes of the Xiao Clan. He'd introduced himself earlier, but his name had already slipped Li Xun's mind. A bad habit, one he needed to quash immediately. The Xiao Clan was absolutely massive. It had at least a dozen branches, many larger in their own right that some lesser clans. The most famous two, the imperial family, and the descendants of the Xiao Patriarch, resided in the capital. This branch was apparently one of two that administered territories within the south of the empire, near the Azure Mountain Sect.
"We should not be surprised, fellow daoists. As the Jianheng Emperor so astutely noted, there is nothing more permanent than a temporary tax." Another clan daoist replied.
"But what rationale could there be to charge the southern clans a levy for the purposes of their own defense? Surely the gentry could spent those funds more efficiently than the distant and overworked administrators of the capital."
"What would you have the emperor do instead, Xiao Zheng? If the southern clans had handled the situation promptly, there would have been no need to mobilize the sects and the imperial banners." A noble wearing colors Daoist Scouring Medicine did not recognize said in an icy voice. He was in Core Formation, likely the founder or patriarch of some smaller clan. "Or is being made to pay for your own defense that you resent? Perhaps you would have preferred that the rest of the empire contribute funds into your pockets?"
"What do you think, Daoist Scouring Medicine? Is the Azure Mountain Sect truly in such dire straits that they still require the gentry's support to maintain their disciples?" Xiao Zheng asked, his tone making quite clear what answer he expected.
Li Xun wanted to laugh. He'd come prepared for so many different scenarios. Expected to be grilled or courted, insulted or ignored. He'd forgotten that most of these people hardly cared who won the tournament in the first place. The Azure Mountain Sect was just a setting for them, another scenic backdrop for this particular event on their social calendar. To them he was any Azure Mountain daoist with a promising disciple. Or at least he would be, until they learned the disciple in question was a monkey.
He knew what Elder Xun and Elder Lu would want him to say. And what they wouldn't. He decided to split the difference. Xiao Zheng was only at the midpoint of Foundation Establishment. If men like him were the best the Southern Xiao branch families had to offer, it was hardly surprisingly the Azure Mountain Sect had been needed to check the creeping advance of the Wu.
"The Azure Mountain Sect has been winding down its deployments for years." Daoist Scouring Medicine said mildly. "We do not require continued imperial support to keep the White Raven Sect and the Wu rabble in their place."
"Hah!"
"Of course, we did not require the gentry's support in order to subdue them in the first place. I have better sense than to opine upon the empire's budget, a subject of which I am unfamiliar." He continued. The words all but dripped from his tongue, easy as oil, satisfying as venom. "If the emperor saw fit to distribute benefits to his loyal subjects as compensation for our efforts, I would not dare to second guess his majesty's judgement."
Xiao Zheng's face flushed with ill-concealed fury.
"Daoist Scouring Medicine speaks sense." The Core Formation Patriarch agreed. "I can certainly find no fault in his words. Perhaps Xiao Zheng would see the matter in the same light if his family contributed more disciples to the Azure Mountain. My own Ji Clan has contributed no less than four this generation, including both of my sons. How could I lament supporting them?"
"The Xiao Clan have contributed a dozen sons and daughters to the rolls of the Azure Mountain! Two of them inner disciples!" Xiao Zheng sputtered indignantly, carefully refraining from mentioning which branches of his sprawling family those disciples had come from. The Xiao branches might be wealthy and powerful, but the four great sects took only those with talent. And if a clan expected their scions back at the end of their education, they would need to pay for that privilege. From a clear-eyed perspective, tallying up the benefits, as prestigious as a position with a great sect was, it was often more clearly beneficial to the common born than the gentry.
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"Then why do you so object to supporting their cultivation?" The Ji Patriarch pressed. Li Xun wondered what exactly his angle was. Clearly he wanted closer ties with the sect, but he would not have expected him to be willing to so offend a Xiao branch in pursuit of it. Perhaps he already had a dispute with them? Or perhaps he'd sent his intended heir to the sect and did not have the funds to secure his release the conventional way?
"Excuse me," Daoist Scouring Medicine bowed, seeing an exit, "I must offer my greetings to Elder Weeping Lotus."
Xiao Zheng and the Ji Patriarch hardly noticed him leaving, too busy seeking to sway the rest of the crowd.
A swing and a miss. He would not find what he was looking for here. But it was not unsatisfying to swing at something. Perhaps his love for the sect was not quite so sorely strained as he'd thought it. He certainly preferred their more modest hypocrisies to the boundless entitlement of the gentry.
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Speaking with Elder Weeping Lotus was substantially less painful than Li Xun had expected. It certainly helped that she was laboring under the misimpression that he'd somehow independently cured Li Hou. He was not so much her junior that it was unthinkable, after all.
"But did you ever find a use for that solvent you showed me?" She pressed. "You seemed so confident that its violence could be managed to solve the problem of penetrating your disciple's transmuted flesh without damaging it further."
"Not outside of its original purpose as a component of the refining bath." Daoist Scouring Medicine answered, happy to be back on more familiar ground. "But it would take no effort at all to render it a most efficacious poison, with the way it easily infiltrates flesh and bone alike."
Li Xun suppressed a flinch. He regretted the words the moment he said them, that was probably a little too honest.
"Poison." Elder Weeping Lotus almost spat the word. "A simple art for daoists incapable of grasping the subtleties of proper medicine. The miasmas those who call themselves 'Poison Masters' field are an insult to doctors everywhere. As if mixing a dozen random poisons that do not neutralize each other is some sort of achievement. Exterminating the inhabitants of the Thousand Poison Vale is one of the better things the sect has done this century."
Daoist Scouring Medicine lifted an eyebrow. That was not exactly one of the usual reasons orthodox daoists disdained poison. He was suddenly quite glad for the small bubble of privacy Elder Weeping Lotus had enforced around them.
"I would not go so far as to call it an insult to medicine." He hedged, very uncertain about exactly where this conversation was going. "A far lesser art, certainly. But advanced daoists have remarkable constitutions, it certainly takes some small degree of skill to inflict lasting infirmities upon one without simply relying upon spiritual toxins of a higher realm."
"Bah. Almost any medicine can do that if you just pour the dosage out high enough. Can you imagine having the shamelessness to declare that mixing random ingredients and not knowing proper therapeutic dosages constitutes a dao in its own right?"
Daoist Scouring Medicine felt almost like there were medical scales in his head, teetering, weighing risk and benefit. He'd come here in search of allies. An external patron that might buy out his service in exchange for his secrets, or at least suggest to Sect Master Ren that they might be interested in doing so. He hadn't had any luck on that front. The only half-serious lead he'd found tonight had immediately made clear they expected him to exchange one master for another and be grateful for the privilege. Few here knew of Li Hou's attainments yet, and they would not take him seriously if he were the one to boast of his disciple's heaven-defying body.
But Elder Weeping Lotus knew who he'd been, what his disciple had attained from his treatment. She might not jockey as aggressively for power as some of the other Elders, but she did not lack influence.
"I served for over a decade on the southern front, you know." He eventually said. "Four of those years were in the Thousand Poison Vale itself. I watched your disciples work their hands to the bone countering the vicious mixtures of the Wu's pet demons."
"I'd heard as much. I perused your service records, when Elder Lu suggested you might help me in cleaning up the mess you created with the Zhang boy. I would have liked to join you, but I spent much of my own time during those years caring for our more senior daoists. Both Elder Xun and our new sect master took serious injuries against the White Ravens, to say nothing of the tragedy of what happened to Sect Master Xiang."
Her hand rose, seemingly of it's own accord. Two fingers gently traced one of the tears tattooed on her cheek, the eighth, second from the bottom. Li Xun allowed his shoulders to shudder in sympathy. All of them had felt that loss, one of the many reasons Xiao Zheng's thoughtless avarice had inspired such fury in him. The sect had subdued the south with ease, that much was true. But no war was bloodless, and the crucible that had forged Daoist Scouring Medicine's exceptional generation had left almost one in four of his peers dead. One could not raise up dozens of Foundation Establishment cultivators inside of fifty years without making a great many corpses.
"My original body refinement bath, the first of the three I applied to myself, was inspired by the poison masters we fought. An effort to render myself immune to their heretical arts by taking their poison-tempering several steps further than they'd ever dared. It was one of two things I took from them."
"Oh?" Elder Weeping Lotus's eyes gleamed. He had her curiosity now. This would be the tricky part, keeping it without giving anything away.
"Sealed and forgotten, by order of Sect Master Xiang." Even saying that much was technically a violation of one of Old Xiang's final commandments. But Elder Weeping Lotus was almost sufficiently highly placed to know the details of what he'd done. She would take umbrage, if someone sought to punish him for merely relating the existence of that secret to her.
"A pity. I must admit some curiosity about the less than orthodox techniques you have displayed."
Daoist Scouring Medicine shook his head.
"It was wisely done, as so many of Old Xiang's decisions were. I almost lost myself in the pursuit of vengeance. I only mean to say there are secrets worth taking, even in the techniques of incompetent heretics. I think that you, more than others, can appreciate that."
"Perhaps we should speak at greater length in calmer circumstances." ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ N0v3l.Fiɾe.net
"Perhaps we should." Daoist Scouring Medicine agreed. "We have spoken a great deal about the consequences of failed attempts at alchemical bodily refinement. It does gnaw at me, the injury Disciple Zhang inflicted upon himself by misusing my works. Perhaps a more complete understanding of the practices I have pioneered might help you see a solution that I have not."
"Perhaps it will." Elder Weeping Lotus agreed, avarice shining in her eyes. It was not entirely to cure Disciple Zhang that she wanted that information. If she could standardize and perfect his bespoke and dangerous methods, she might become one of the most powerful women in the empire. The power to reliably raise mortal levies and fresh disciples to a level where they could fight foes in the middle stages of Qi Condensation? It had the potential to reshape the boundaries of nations, if the economics of it worked out.
The bubble of Elder Weeping Lotus's qi that kept their conversation private popped. There was no strain, no struggle. If not for the surprise in his counterpart's eyes, Daoist Scouring Medicine would have assumed she'd done it intentionally.
"Daoist Scouring Medicine! There you are, hiding off in the corner!" Yang Shui swept into their conversation like a gale wind, blowing away the intimate, conspiratorial, air. "Come now, do not deny the rest of us the honor of your presence."
A dozen men followed in Marshal Yang's wake. Two wore his command's colors, embroidery in a mixture of Yang blue and imperial crimson, alongside the tight black turbans and square badges of military officers. Four of them wore the ornate robes of clan daoists. The rest were Daoist Scouring Medicine's peers, a mixture of daoists and inner disciples he did and did not recognize, primarily hailing from External Affairs.
"You are too kind, Marshal Yang." Daoist Scouring Medicine protested half-heartedly. "Why would anyone care to speak with this small daoist when such august persons as yourself and the Azure Mountain's elders are present?"
"Small daoist! Why, a smaller man that I might take offense that a small daoist's disciple could ever triumph over his own!"
"Of course, forgive the slip of my tongue."
"Come, share a toast with us!" Yang Shui boomed.
A saucer was pressed into Li Xun's hand, filled to the brim with spirit wine.
"To the Patriarch of the Azure Mountain!" Yang Shui declared.
In unison, they drank. An inner disciple was in motion the moment the first saucer fell, pouring.
"To the Qianlong Emperor, may he reign for a thousand years!" A clan daoist offered.
They drank. It wasn't as good as Li Hou's wine. Perhaps he had indeed acquired a taste for the sweeter drinks his disciple favored.
"To Sect Master Ren Yuhan, and the daoists he leads!" One of the External Affairs inner disciples boldly proclaimed when his seniors took a moment too long to decide who would offer a toast next.
They drank.
"To the Marshal of the West, and the ever-expanding borders of the Empire of Xiao!" One of the officers insisted.
Eventually the flood of toasts and drinks dried up. Li Xun counted himself lucky that his constitution was stronger than his relatively low realm implied, leaving him still mostly clear-headed.
"Come, Daoist Scouring Medicine, you must tell us about your disciple's duel. The honored marshal has been talking our ear off all night about how remarkable your monkey has proven."
"More like the Marshal has been talking up his own student." One of the officers said with a laugh. "Little Yang has grown so much since he was toddling about swinging sticks at the enlisted boys."
"I'd be doing that too if my student was manipulating spear qi with their bare hands at such a tender age. You didn't acquire the ability to form that at all until the wrong side of forty, and his spear intent is already a match for yours!"
"Is your monkey truly capable of moving and fighting within his stone form? Did you teach him that? Rumors said it was a static transformation."
"And why a monkey? Surely you had men available to teach?"
"Is that stone transformation really strong enough to turn spear qi? Was Yang Wei really infusing his spearhand strikes with it?"
"Were those duplicates illusions or clones? Is it one of the sect's techniques?"
Daoist Scouring Medicine did his best to field all the questions. He talked up Disciple Yang Wei wherever he could, playing up the outlandish intensity of the bout for the many in the audience who had not been present. He did not even need to exaggerate events much, the truth already strained the bounds of credulity. Li Hou's strange centipede wine was explained as an alchemical performance aid of vague provenance. He demurred inquiries about treating others, letting his fellow daoists speak to his punishment in hushed byplay. He let Yang Shui take the question about illusions and clones. He hadn't the slightest idea, and was more than a little surprised to hear the marshal declare with certainty they were in fact clones, and that the only truly illusory aspect of the technique was the way it concealed the user.
He briefly shivered at the image of a hundred floating semi-corporeal copies of Yang Shui striking in unison.
For a quarter of an hour, he had everything he'd wanted for the last year. Clan daoists inquired about him visiting their compounds, and wondered allowed when the restriction on his teaching might be lifted. Wondered if he might consider taking on members of their branch families they very carefully did not say were expendable. Members of External Affairs joked the sort of monstrous soldiers they might field if Li Hou's bath could be replicated and Yang Wei's spearmanship taught. Nobody made commitments or offers, but it was the sort of attention that the sect would not be able to ignore. One additional success did not erase the black spot on his record that was Disciple Zhang. But it certainly diluted it. And men could be so very selective in their vision when the prospect of acquiring benefits for their faction was on the table.
His mind drifted back to Li Hou. He had no doubt even now the monkey was stubbornly attempting to learn to breath fire by drinking wine. He still didn't know what to make of that manual. What his disciple was currently attempting was conceptually sound, both the physics and the qi mechanics should work. Wine could burn, especially when distilled, and fire qi could burn a great many things into fuel. But the greater secrets the manual hinted at were beyond his expertise.
But wherever the foolish monkey's path led, Li Xun would support him.
An eerie noise cut through the discussions that filled the hall. A dissonant rumble, steadily building. A hundred eyes leapt to the source. Elder Lu stood just to the right of the seat of honor, holding a small chao gong. He was dragging a mallet no larger than a dumpling across its golden outer edge, filling the hall with its warbling groan.
The visibly ancient man lifted the tiny mallet and tapped once, just to the side of the center of the gong. A deep groan rang forth, silencing the hall. Elder Lu smiled at the assembled daoists kindly, almost beatifically. As if he truly were the generous and well-meaning elder he appeared, not the inhuman monster of smooth gold and measured scales that Li Xun knew rested just beneath his skin.
His eyes met Li Xun's from across the hall, and his smile did not waver in the slightest.
The assembled daoists began to disperse in an instant. Ceremony waited for no man, and they all needed to be seated before Sect Master Ren and Seventh Prince made their appearances.
Yang Shui stepped closer to Daoist Scouring Medicine, throwing an arm around his shoulder as he slowly carried him along in the general direction of their seats. He spoke loudly, boisterously, heedless of being overheard.
"I do not mind that your disciple defeated my nephew. Reputation is a shield only the weak hide behind, and my disciple will never stoop to such depths. I appreciate the curious aptitude your monkey has displayed in coaxing any sentiment at all from the boy. He's too lonesome and stoic for his years by half. This burgeoning friendship between them does not displease me."
For a moment, Li Xun wondered if he'd found support in the most unexpected of corners.
"However."
The arm across his shoulder pressed down with the weight of a mountain. Li Xun's refined muscles trembled, and it took everything he had to remain standing. He opened his mouth to protest, but there was no air with which to speak.
"If Li Hou's acquaintance proves itself to be less than a curiosity, an anchor around my nephew's neck." Yang Shui continued in the same friendly tone. "I will show you just how easy it is for anyone, man or monkey, to drown upon dry land."
Yang Shui stepped onward, heading to his assigned seat in the innermost row. Li Xun coughed, gasped like a fish out of water. Then he shivered, as he remembered Li Hou's quiet words in the safety of his home about suffering exactly that affliction. Surely it had to be a coincidence. Even a monster like him could not be that capable. Curious eyes followed Daoist Scouring Medicine as he staggered to his own assigned seat in the second row, most of them utterly blind and deaf to what had just transpired.
The hall was as silent as a grave, the assembled daoists as still as deep waters.
The outer doors of the hall ground open, as the host and guest of honor arrived. Lesser guests and dao protectors filed in behind them like courtiers. The banquet had begun.