The Door To All Marvels

Guandong’s awesome car slid to a neat stop outside of what could only be Guxi’s compound, and the first thing Lily couldn’t help but think as she stared up at the monument of it all was that that was what it meant to be wealthy. It was a bit out of the way of the actual precinct itself, but… out of the way was fine, she supposed, if you had a servant to drive you everywhere.

She stepped out of the car, feeling once more the chill air of the coming winter months brush around her, ruffling her sleeves and tossing her hair to the rhythm of its chaotic whims. Out of the way was fine, she supposed, if you had a servant to drive you everywhere.

Guandong was there before she could even take more than a step or two, holding out her arm to steady her— something which was wholly unnecessary. A second later, she retracted the proffered limb, a faint blush tinging her cheeks. “I hope the journey was satisfactory. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” Then, she bowed. It was so utterly incongruous with the arrogant person she’d been back when they’d shared the same classroom that she almost had trouble reconciling the two.

Thankfully, there was plenty to take her mind off of just how weird Guandong was being. Mainly, that was, the compound itself— even just the entrance stretched high overhead, domineering stonework thrust heavily into the ground and stacked upwards, three vast gates dominating the space. She couldn’t help but note that they’d opened the central one for them, which… the symbolic gesture wasn’t lost on her.

Avyr slid quietly out of the car beside her, utterly silent but for the creak of the car readjusting to his absence. “It’s larger than I thought it was going to be.”

Lily nodded. “It’d kinda cool. I think…” she stepped forward, slightly off the main path, brushing a hand across the stately stonework. Ancient stonework, it felt like, even if she knew that this part of the city had been destroyed in the great war before the last one… closing her eyes, she could feel the thrum of qi as it flooded through the stonework, as deep and steady as the earth it’d been pried loose from. “It’s well constructed.”

“Honored cultivators. If you would please continue further into the compound…” Lily jerked her hand from the wall, blushing a bit as she followed after a servant who’d been waiting just inside the compound’s entrance. “The Young Master can answer any questions relating to the history of our home, if you’re curious. Until then, please allow this humble servant to direct the esteemed cultivators to their quarters.”

She and Avyr shared a poignant look at just how differential the servants were being, but neither of them spoke. They didn’t really get the chance to speak, quickly dragged through the compound as they were. The whole thing was a scene of seamless efficiency— there was not a wasted moment as they walked along the path deeper into the cluster of opulent buildings and verdant gardens.

Their luggage was taken from them, they were offered refreshments, they were given assurances that they had free reign of any of the facilities… it was, frankly, bewildering. By the time they’d passed by the main halls and various complexes of the clan proper she felt like she’d stepped into an even more alien world than the University of East Saffron’d ever been.

A servant— a different servant again— bowed to them, hands clasped tightly together and utterly respectful, almost to the point of obsequiousness. “Honored cultivators, these are your rooms. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call for any of us, and we will not hesitate to fulfill your every desire.” She wasn’t sure if she liked the way that’d been stressed…

Then she actually stepped into their rooms, and forgot all about that, because… it took a second for to realize her jaw had dropped. The sheer opulence of their accommodations… “heavens above. This is where we’re staying?” All the walls were bordered with dark wood, tasteful artwork hung up on the walls, flowers by finely wrought windows, cushions and furniture arrayed about, all ensconced in a flood of natural light that only made the place look even more stunning. “Is this even real?”

Avyr padded in before her— apparently far less impressed, though she could see the slight hesitance in his movement that made her sure that he was more affected than he seemed to be. One paw raised up slightly, poking at a round cushion so ridiculously large that two of him could curl up on top of it with room to spare— and that didn’t even take up a tenth of the whole room’s space. “Real enough.” He hopped up, all but melting into the plush cushions with a contented purr. “Now this is nice.”

Lily just rolled her eyes, and set off to explore the rest of the place before the urge to collapse like her friend. There was just too much interesting stuff! A giant mural occupied the center of the room, carved with exacting precision from what she was pretty was a single sheet of wood— showing, in a vast sprawl that split the space from earth to heaven, an entire bucolic livelihood, from farmers toiling amongst heavy boughs of wheat to city gentry building walls, to lords atop pagodas, to immortal ascending towards a burning sun. It was the sort of thing that she almost felt would fit a museum better than some random guest room belonging to a relatively unimportant councilor.

That wasn’t the only thing. No, rather— everything else was the same level of awesome quality. Each and every stitch woven, together becoming, a whole tapestry and artwork, swept up in the quiet and sometimes vibrant, almost alive decor. Palatial, yes, but with understated subtlety beneath where everything seemed to flow so seamlessly together.

She knew it was uncharitable, but standing in front of a jagged-cut window and staring at the draped calligraphy of a master painter, she was confident that there Guxi hadn’t been responsible for most of the decorations. It wasn’t that she had a bad impression of the woman, but…

Well, that was a lie. She had a rather poor idea of what the woman would have wanted, and anything understated was certainly not it. No, Guxi’s idea of proper decor was probably more along the lines of those domineering gates, dividing in their mere presence inner and outer, here and there, permitted and forbidden.

She walked another circuit around the room, passing Avyr still sprawled out on his bed as she orbited that enormous wood-working, this time paying less heed to the gilding and paneling and hanging artworks and more to the living component. Whoever had set up the room however-long ago had a good idea of how to break up the stifling atmosphere of city dwelling; there were plenty of small plants placed where they could get plenty of natural light— deep mounding flowers in the dark corners, bonsai in shafts of sunlight, pots of reedy thrush and hint of floral color interspersing but not interrupting the major fixtures. They all almost seemed to drag together, in a way— in the way of water flowing downhill, or clouds rising to heaven… in the way of qi, flooding vibrantly through the natural world.

She followed it to a glass-screen door opposite the entrance, and— without really sparing it much thought— continued through, stepping out into a quiet garden. For a moment, the whole world, the precinct, the bustle of servants and even the looming dread of having to interact with the councilor who’d made her life so hard for so long… it all faded away. Replaced, in its stead, with a—

Peace.

A gravel path wound gently through a garden awash with green; the deep of forest underbrush beneath, the sprung glory of trumpet vines leaping skyward along the walls, twining amongst the roofs and stone and sparking fiery flowers— and the bamboo, a whole forest of it swaying gently in the breeze. She breathed in, and could not catch even a breath of the ever-present city scent, the slight sharpness of acrid air that was everywhere in the city. Those sharp leaves, flicked outwards in the way every poet adored…

She stepped outwards, the slight crunch of gravel beneath her all that reminded her she hadn’t suddenly teleported to some wilderness deep within the Dragonspine Mountains. In… absorbing, the qi of the world, and out… it was better than even the most plush couch in that room could have been, for there, around her, the world bent together and so gently came to being.

Off the path and carefully into the forest, she gently slipped between the bamboo shoots, occasionally brushing a finger across their glossy surface until she reached the center. There was nothing special there, other than a half-buried boulder far more neglected than the rest of the space, overgrown with moss and lichens— an abandoned place, even in the heart of civilization. Folding her legs beneath her, she sat down atop that stone and— breathed, simply.

In, absorbing the qi of the world. Out, letting it free once more. She wasn’t trying to cultivate, really, not seriously— she didn’t have a technique like Avyr’s to cleanse all the impurities she might absorb, was in the middle of the city even if it felt like she wasn’t, and more than even any of that, didn’t want to ruin the natural tranquility of the garden by carving a formation in the land around her. There was simply no point in cultivating, then. She wasn’t in the center of some grand natural array— just nature.

That didn’t mean there was no point in meditating. She couldn’t help but think that she spent more time meditating than she’d ever spent cultivating… something that would probably change in the future, but for now?

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No need.

She let the world outside fade from her grasp— abandoning to its own nature first her sight, then the internal sight of the oceans of qi that suffused each and every thing about her. Then, the sensation of air brushing along her skin. Then, the sound of the world, and the warmth of faint sunlight, and… not gone, per say, simply… beneath her attention. Instead, she looked inward, at her spirit.

Objectively, she was pretty sure it was a messy thing. The spirit of a Shedding cultivator probably wasn’t all that much— there were enough in the city that even in as poor of a precinct as the 32nd was, everyone probably knew at least one. The thing that dragged her attention the most of anything was the core of qi that slowly shimmered in the center of her chest— her dantian, if only in name. It was a deep and bloody red, as scarlet dark as fresh blood, as the most brilliant sunset she’d ever seen. It was a fuzzy thing, shifting in response to her will and occasionally sending faint wisps of qi about her body in response to… randomly, she guessed. Not inefficiently, just… as thoroughly natural as the blood through her veins, or the air in her lungs.

She couldn’t help but find it utterly, beautifully, captivating.

A whole world, almost, within her— as the heavens turned and the earth came to being, for a time that felt like no time and forever, she sat there, quietly observing the flow of qi in her spirit. Then, after a time, she reached out gently, bidding her qi to flow outwards through her body. Clumsily, but that was only to be expected given she was still a Shedding cultivator. Too tight a grasp on the qi made it slip loose from her grip and fall back against her core, too loose made her lose it altogether, spilling through her grasp so effortlessly… an echo of falling sand and water, escaped from her at last.

The easiest way to manipulate her qi was to draw up an entire blunt chunk of it, a blunt and thoroughly unelegant method. She’d seen Avyr using his qi, felt Qinfu’s great precision— it was a bit frustrating that she couldn’t even begin to approach that sort of ability.

That didn’t stop her from trying. Manipulating her qi would be something important in the future, and even if she was already ahead of most her peers in that regard… she could not just ignore it. More practically, if she wanted to actually use the spiritual implement she’d made, then she’d have to keep a tight grasp on her qi. She certainly didn’t want to see what happened if she lost control of her qi while using that.

A big explosion, probably. It didn’t take a genius to imagine that.

It was a rather quite diverting exercise, all things considered. She’d gotten used to brain-numbingly dull practice with everything Qinfu had had her do when it came to her swordwork, and compared to that, the variation and sheer wonder of playing with her own qi was so much… not easier, but lighter in a way. More pure—

Something touched the edge of her qi, and she knew in an instant it was foreign. Similar— endowed with that same aspect of bloody deepness that hers was, but it was impossible for her to look at it and know it as anything but other. Like looking at two different shades of red, and not even two particularly similar ones— the foreign qi was touched with an edge of fierceness, of heavy strength, of— dull, the whole thing was quite dull, but she could make out— authority, woven deep within it.

She blinked her eyes open, sunlight streaming through at a harsh angle, cast by the late hour heavens— catching glimpse in that self-same moment of someone she’d absolutely not been looking forward to seeing. “Xinshi.” He stood a fair distance away from her, dressed casually— or as casually as a councillor’s son could ever dress— arms folded and head canted slightly downwards as he looked at her. She could sense his qi as it dissipated, the bridge that had delicately crossed the space between them fraying to nothing in the space of a moment. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you. This is one of the most secluded gardens in my house— if there was any one person I’d expect to see here the least, it would have been you. So?”

“Your mother invited us to stay.” The slight expression of disgust on Xinshi’s face deepened— just a little bit, but noticeably nonetheless. “This is merely the garden that’s attached to our rooms. If you have a problem with that…” she shifted slightly, enough to make the sword on her waist catch against a ray of falling sunlight.

Xinshi scowled. “Must you be so brutish? I was merely asking a question.”

“Forgive me if I am to doubt that, after everything we’ve been through.”

“I left you well enough alone in formations class, didn’t I? Shouldn’t you at least trust that I don’t want to cause trouble?” Lily blinked, half surprised as Xinshi leaned against a thicket of dense shoots, the canopy above them swaying slightly against the sudden motion. “I get it, Lily Ward. I am your lesser. I’ve understood that for a long time now. You have a chance of making it into the Bloody Saffron Sect, and I…” he grimaced, for a moment a deeply sad look, a deeply furious look passing across his face before he schooled his expression back into placidity. “I do not.”

It was so out of character for the typically arrogant man that she was struck dumb for a long second, just sitting on that mossy rock and staring at him, and recalculating everything she’d thought she’d known about him.

He looked… fine, mostly. Not defeated— he still was for all intents and purposes the very picture of a perfect clan heir, but… lost, maybe? Or at least just a little melancholic. “I didn’t realize you cared.” She finally settled on, before immediately wincing at how stupid that made her sound. “I mean… I didn’t realize that you had it. That same wanting.”

“Ah.” The slight frown that’d settled onto her face fled, replaced by another, different frown— pensive, almost. “I can see why you’d think that. It’s not like my mother really made much of an effort to pretend we were anything but opportunistic, what with how much she punished you and Avyr for daring to present a real challenge… but, did you ever consider that I might have had different goals from her?”

“You…” it was so startling obvious, but on the same measure so very surprising. “No, actually. I didn’t think of that at all.”

“Of course you didn’t. You just thought of winning. I understand the feeling— I really do. From the earliest point I can remember, I was told that it was my destiny to bring the clan to greatness by making it into the Bloody Saffron Sect. I didn’t have the same advantages as one of the scions of the great clans might, but I had every resource my mother could spare. Everything. Do you know how that felt?”

“Empowering?”

“Stifling. There was an exception to each and every tutor and book and gift, to my every action and desire, and…” he grimaced. “I’m rambling. I don’t even know why I’m telling this to you. It’s not like you asked for my mother to put you in the room next to mine—”

“You live here?”

“This is my garden.” He hesitated for a second— “not, that is, in the same way as Avyr or any other horticulturalist; I didn’t grow any of these plants, rather inheriting the space from the person who lived here before me. I personally think it’s one of the nicest gardens in the whole compound but… well, I’m a little biased. It’s been a small sanctuary to me for so long that I can’t help but think that.”

Lily nodded. “You changed your mind, though.”

“About the garden? No, it’s still one of my…” he shook his head, snorting. “Undistracted, I see. I bet that’ll take you far…” he sighed, shaking his head. “Yes, obviously. I won’t bore you with the tedious details— it was a long process, and you played a rather significant role in the whole thing, and…” he sighed. “Have you ever wondered why we cultivate?”

The simple words struck her with the weight of heaven’s whole might. “Y-yes.” She barely managed to choke them out, so stunned was she by the so incredibly familiar words. “Yes. Yes, yes I have.”

“Luckier than me, then. It was only after I first started realizing that you were so much better at formations than I was, even though I had every possible advantage… have you ever had your whole worldview upturned? Just, caught up and cast out, and shattered with all the terrible force of this world’s cruel intention?”

“…once. A long time ago.” Xinshi winced the moment he realized what she was mentioning.

Luckily, he had tact enough not to comment on it. “Then you know what it is like, to realize that what you had taken as all but assured, as heaven-sent, as… this world of ours, here we sit, unknowing of whether we’ve encountered fortune or calamity, and I was to think that I knew enough to divine the inevitability of my fate?” He shook his head, wryly, angrily. “No. That was the business of fools, and I try not to be a fool.”

“That’s better than most people would’ve been.”

“I’m not sure, anymore.” He sighed. “I cultivated for my mother’s dream, and now?” He shook his head. “You should go get ready for dinner. I’m sure my mother will send a servant to collect you soon, if she hasn’t already— and not to offend, but your current outfit is woefully inadequate for dinner with a councillor.”

Lily rolled her eyes as she stood, the tension of the moment broken by Xinshi’s reminder the outside world still turned despite themselves. “Fine. It’s not like you ever did anything to me, anyways. Always too aloof to actually get your hands dirty, but… well,” there was no use to holding onto old grudges. This wasn’t the ancient days of terrible grudges and feuds that extended unto nine generations of so much ash and scorched bone— she could at least accept a well intentioned attempt. “I’ll see you at dinner, then.”

“I know exactly what you’re getting into, and I don’t envy you the pleasure of being the councillor’s guest of honor.” He inclined his head ever so minutely— then slipped away, wordless, silently fading— a ghost into the bamboo.

As the shadows lengthened, and the sunlight painted its furtive passing through the forest shoots, and she still breathed— she just stood there in the center of it all.

Same as ever.

Changing with the shifting heart beat of a world still breathing too.