Fatherly Asura

When history lives, what justice might the written word provide?

To the interested party, this humble archivist will attempt to make clear the muddied waters of time.

Once, in antiquity, there flowed a river.

Ninefold forked.

In parts, a sea. In parts, a shallow pool.

Lo, in each droplet was a depth untold.

Heaven held pride in this creation, for in beauty it was peerless. Rich in all energies of the world.

Times of yore saw a single sip raise mortal beasts into [Spirituality].

An opportunity coveted.

By human, beast and [Demon].

Thus Heaven chose nine.

“A Tale of Cherries,” by One Humble Archivist of the Ancestral Quill Sect

Of first importance was the [Law of Origin], that which defined a [Mystic Realm]. How blissful its absence was.

Somewhere, Fu had lost count of the passing [Seasons]. The fourteen that comprised a single moon, it was more than this since he last laid eyes upon his children.

The Heavens themselves were fools to believe he would suffer another.

What followed was what had followed. An emergence not met by a sea of fire and innumerable blades, nor that of Grandmother Hua’s resounding disapproval. The Cherry River Inheritors had not arrived in splendor, or indeed, in any capacity.

Dust made thick the surrounding halls.

Kang Jae was reverent, proving himself amply studied in history aside the techniques he based his Path upon.

Hours passed.

More.

The discussion ran along timelines, potentials and mysteries that Zhu walked far ahead to rid himself of.

“...align the two stories,” posited Jae. “If your father had fostered relations with those of the Cherry River then more within the Clear Sky knew of [Sixth Under Heaven] than the masses might believe.”

Fu looked to Tanshuai, then her cultivator. “The [Mantra of Heavenly Plums] transcends Empires.”

“Indeed?”

Yasodhara was astride the plum-eyed son. Similarly disinterested.

“The Maiden of Snow-Dappled Plums, a relative of the Plum Axe encountered within the many realms of Abundant [Spring]. No mere Red or lower Caste,” explained Fu. “Though I am a poor historian, and know not what connection it might hold with this foyer.”

With a finger of rich, grey dust, Jae smiled. “Little, admittedly. Forgiveness. I… when there are discoveries to be made, well, I enjoy such puzzles. There are benefits to prying, and learning is a treasure one can carry anywhere.”

“Learning is a currency one might flog anywhere,” called Zhu.

Jae’s cheeks reddened, and his spectacles were a poor mask. “Ah… that is…”

Shuidi impressed her curiosity. Fu gave it voice. “How would you entreat a Sect Leader with this? As you, Kang Jae. An audience is hard to gain, and you surely do not use our methods to enter their abode.”

“An end,” said Zhu. “You’re better served to stall this conversation. What’s ahead is strange.”

Strange?

At the peak of middle [Core Formation], [Senses] muddied what distance a mortal might consider near. However, the minutes did not fade into hours before they reached Zhu’s mentioned strangeness.

A door, in short.

A wall, perhaps.

For three li across there spread a foreboding block of peculiar metal. It stood without inscription or detail, and Shuidi scried no seams in its construction. From dust-soaked wall to dust-soaked end the only furnishings were a solitary chime and this gargantuan blockade.

Worse yet was the Gu.

Fu’s [Heavenly Spectre’s Shroud] stuttered against this oppressive foe. His [Constitution] granted myriad boons, but reduced him to less than mortal against a [Demon’s] inherent gifts.

“[Demonsteel], [Cold Iron], [Abyssal Ore], [Voidstar Metal]. Titles merged across vicissitudes. We have encountered this before.”

Not in such quantities, old master. Gratitude.

No cultivator neared the door.

“[Demonsteel],” said Fu.

All save for Yasodhara agreed. The Abundant [Spring] youth’s experience of [Demons] was in rumor and fable only. As such she went against instinct, taking a step forward.

“I’d warn against it,” said Zhu, blocking with an arm. “One touch and your [Dantian] will spill as if it were a shattered gourd.”

Samudra gently clad her cultivator. “Mridul could stand its presence. He alone struck the chime.”

Central to this door hung a mundane cylinder of black, suspended as any instrument of its ilk might be.

“To forge this, mortal hands are needed. No-” Kang Jae flew back from inspection as a single tong fa struck against it.

The sound did not deafen. No. Tranquility trilled from the chime with such strength that Fu pondered whether a daoist’s mantra was interred inside. It grew with a singular ohm, washing aside all trace of weariness and anxiety he might feel at the door’s presence.

Or so it tried.

What assassin might lower their guard? No tenured one, as the two disciples were.

Upwards this door slid, receding into the ceiling of this ever-brightening interior. Sunlight spilled upon the party, revealing admittedly little that their [Senses] and stage of cultivation had not previously shown.

And yet, for the featureless hall and its mirror on the door’s opposing side, their own held no mysterious figure as the other did.

No cherry-toned robes.

“Mechanical?” Kang Jae wondered aloud, which Zhu was swift to silence.

He cannot feel this? If he could, then he would not have the presence to speak.

Fu’s [Core] felt seized by the very sight of the figure ahead. An instinct had overcome it: a warning. Fear might declare that he now stared at the open jaws of a dragon, but reason had him realize that he already stood within it.

“Wanderers? Seekers? Children? Who can say? You can say. Can you say, I say?” laughed the ascetic beyond- this adolescent woman of immodest robes and disturbingly open stance.

The [Ink] upon his…

A cherry tree’s canopy splayed over her shoulders and ribs, rooting itself far below the well visible regions of her groin.

“Well, well, well well well,” she continued. “Mridul, you’ve changed. A haircut perhaps? No, no, don’t tell me… fresh robes? Where might I gain such a garment? To become nine separate entities, the tailor must be peerless indeed!”

Madness.

Fu’s fingers but twitched in anticipation of his chain, ready to pull it from storage.

The woman held it in her hand.

I-

“Violence! By the Heavens, send for aid!” she cried. “I, the [Cherry River Sage] am beset upon by bandits! The indignity! The humility! My tea has grown cold!”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

There came a look between brothers. A query first, and a permission granted second.

“Lies,” sighed Zhu.

“Lies,” shook Fu.

The woman reeled backwards in dramatic fashion, as if these words had sent her sprawling. “Lies? The [Cherry River Sage] doesn’t lie! You trespass, bring violence, and accuse me of lies? Such an affront has surely hurt my feelings! Yes, yes, yes yes yes, no tea for you! I’ve half a mind not to show you my topiaries either!”

It would be false to say this woman’s realm could not be felt, more so that Shuidi’s [Senses] nearly drowned on their periphery.

A scantily clad monster stood before them.

“Jinghui Hua does not let tea cool,” said Fu.

Though hairless, the woman used the chain’s blade to scratch her scalp. “Jinghui Hua? Curious. That’s not my name… Ah, then you’ve cleared the clouds! I must be another then, a swordswoman?” she inspected the weapon. “A chainswoman? Not a sage, nor a brute? A monk? A spear?”

“A fool,” cut Zhu.

Kang Jae went prostrate in expectation, offering his neck so it might be cut.

“A fool! Yes, then I’m a fool! The Empress of Stooges! Indeed, and a fool knows not when they’re insulted! My apologies then, a thousandfold apologies! All you’ve done is a kindness and not a slight! How childish of me!” Then she was before Fu, proferring his chain. “Please.”

Fu’s heart thundered, spectral or not.

The Heavens curse us. No journey is ever straight forward. An Empress of Stooges, or the [Cherry River Fool] herself?

“Gratitude,” he said, grasping the head.

She did not release it. “One fool knows another, do they not? And what bigger fool is there than one that speaks with absolute certainty! Of this I’ve no doubts!”

The chain remained firm.

“But surely, even a fool dislikes cold tea, no? Not solely your Jinghui Hua. Why, we might be speaking of different [Cherry River Sages] entirely!”

An ocean roared within her irises. A fathomless pink where petal replaced wave. Her gaze narrowed, and Fu knew this would consume him were a wrong answer given.

Thus his frown came swift, and the disapproving hum even swifter.

The chain released.

“Ge-he-he. An echo, or perfect mimicry. Such disapproval flavors your tone, wanderer. Indeed, this [Cherry River Fool] is brought to fond tears at the memory. If not a disciple and not the daughter, then you are the son of marriage and father to her heirs,” her distance held close as these words came, unperturbed by proximity.

Inwardly, he sighed in relief.

Association with Grandmother Hua had not killed him yet, and so, what might he lose by telling the truth to her… sister?

“I am, venerable [Cherry River Fool]. This one is known as Gao Fu,” he said, bowing whilst avoiding the stark, naked flesh some finger’s breadths before him.

“Gao Fu,” she mused. “And others. If you speak for them, then this [Cherry River Fool] extends the Cherry River’s hospitality to all. The honor afforded you by thin blood is greater than you know.”

Those gathered, bowed.

“Gratitude, noble cultivator. We seek passage through these lands, and no more. That you have offered swan meat to these toads is a higher privilege than we know to do with. To avoid misunderstanding, we only wish to take our leave.”

The [Cherry River Fool] laughed. “Ge-he-he. Reject the Cherry River’s hospitality? Why you surely come for my title, no?”

🀧

Shencang Bulu. The [Cherry River Fool].

Of the Five Pillars, three stood from the [Cherry River Inheritors]. Three stood in support, three stood in neutrality, and three stood against.

This impossibility was of the latter.

Her guise of lunacy had long faded as they journeyed forth, leaving behind the darkened cave and its [Demonsteel] wall to begin an exploration of endless, blossoming woods.

That laugh, did not.

“Ge-he-he,” it resounded, and all petals brightened to hear it. “The [Dao of Truth]? Outsiders dare not roam the Cherry River, and those that might are not so bold!”

Zhu’s expression remained neutral. “Immortals have my teeth grind. I’ve no love for their eccentricities.”

“Oh? And you are without eccentricity? Show me the perfect soul, young Zhu! Variety is the spice of life, is it not?” she said, swiping a finger over his cheek. “No, no, no. This is not terracotta nor stone! What a relief, for all under Heaven would grow dull if that were the case!”

An ape that pokes the beehive should not be surprised when stung. He should not tread on her hospitality.

The more sensible brother prepared to interject, eyeing Tanshuai upon his brim.

“Hmm. Yes. I’ve great mistrust of those that act with whimsy. A fault I’m attempting to rectify,” Zhu continued, his feelings as open the skies above. “It’s a curiosity, and though mysteries pain me I would know what makes a [Dao Named] fool.”

Kang Jae stumbled into a nearby trunk. “Zhu, you cannot ask-”

With a cold, practical stare, Bulu paused. “Was I bestowed the title for my foolishness, or did foolishness come when bestowed? Consider, child of plums, and consider well: what makes a fool? A cherry is as much a fruit as a peach, but do they not differ? The man with wagging tongue and spittle-slick lips akin to feral mutts is as much fool as he who follows a ruinous path against the caution of those that have tread it before.”

Next came a whisper.

Unheard by all but Zhu.

All become gold in moments, for an eruption of [Profundity] overcame the endless groves about them.

Fu saw his brother blink, bow, and adopt the lotus position in mere breaths.

The [Cherry River Fool] laughed, leading on.

Each trunk was a pristine growth. In bough, root, gnarl and bloom. The abundance of Qi here was above [True Lord Realm], and beyond that Fu’s cultivation lacked understanding.

Even under the rules of hospitality he held concern for the [Spirit Beasts] that might roam the Cherry River.

A cultivator in [Epiphany] was vulnerable indeed.

“Do you doubt what I have offered, Gao Fu?” Bulu chuckled.

“I worry my martial brother has not extended enough gratitude. An insight from the [Cherry River Fool] herself is a peerless treasure. We walk as strangers here, uninvited, this kindness could not be repaid with a thousand lifetimes.”

Bulu paused again, placing her hands upon her hips. “A thousand lifetimes? An offer of service? Or a list with names I might have you strike off? Ah, would you plunge your foot into an ant’s nest or empty a lake of fish to have it fulfilled? What careless words, Gao Fu, so open to interpretation!”

Danger had the air cloy against his skin.

Zhu had the way of things, her eccentricity is a hanging blade.

“Then I would ask what might be offered in its place?” he asked.

“Ge-he-he, this conversation is enough! Or is it? Tell me, tell me, for long has it been since I have exchanged and bartered. Is a cherry from the tree worth more than the pristine pip the monkey has forgotten?”

Shuidi impressed a mental image. That of Bingbai and his small insights. Hushi followed, impressing a scene of [An Array in One Hand].

This immortal was playing a game, though without the tact of a wizened Matriarch.

Or is this Bingbai’s disassociation at work? Her insights have the subtlety of hammers, and no immortal we have yet crossed dispenses [Epiphany] provoking questions with such speed.

“I prefer peaches,” said Fu.

The [Cherry River Fool] gasped. “You dare?” A pounce hooked her arm around Kang Jae’s waist. “My ears bleed, young man, and my heart… well, an immortal heart figuratively beats, but in a sad and dramatic fashion!”

Immortality. Nudity. Face. Terror.

Kang Jae almost collapsed beneath the sweat of his pallid skin.

“So sickly a youth, by the [Boundless Dao] you must require aid. My Cherry River held a tree the same hue of this, yes, hmm, yes. A foolish trunk, if good-humoured! It grew so blinded by expanding its roots that it forgot to seek the sun. Rowdy, yes,” lectured Bulu.

Her second whisper plunged Kang Jae into a gold-drenched [Epiphany] with such speed that it seemed he had been struck.

Hushi tensed, holding the [Dao of Four Horizons] in his mind.

Raucous laughter echoed throughout the surrounding canopies, and the blossoms above quivered to share in their venerable’s humor.

Bulu turned to Yasodhara. “Sand,” she said.

Gold. Collapse.

Samudra fell in cascade, surrounding her cultivator to join in this unfathomable, ridiculous [Epiphany].

[Half Cloud Step].

The [Art] came too late. More than this, it was truly insufficient.

One softened hand wrenched Fu’s shoulder as he blurred backwards, unbalancing him as the speed only intensified. In fruitless protest the assassin pulled at her fingers.

Each, an immovable root.

The [Heavenly Spectre’s Shroud] found nothing to phase through, neither could he detect the [Affinity] or [Dao] that so rejected his talent. He felt as though the Qi here sought to aid her will, denying what meagre effects he could conjure.

Topiary.

Fu blinked.

His voyage had ended upon the banks of an endless river, dyed pink by the myriad petals that drifted upon its currents. Grass sculptures of this same colour ringed a small pergola at its side, numbering five.

Two unsculpted bushes remained.

“Alone! Alone together, I suppose,” Bulu laughed. “A better method than incinerating your followers on the spot, no? Sister Hua would… No, ge-he-he, that all-knowing shrew would care little.”

Shrew?

“Few would dare insult her.”

“To her face, yes. Those that curse the [Cherry River Sage] are more numerous than all the blades of grass below Heaven. As Gao Fu, surely this is not unthinkable?”

Hushi loudly impressed his confirmation.

The [Cherry River Fool] drew a twisted grin. “To shared matters then!” she clapped, having nothing whatsoever occur. “Ah, the endless entertainment of a young cultivator’s torment. Peace, Gao Fu, the hospitality offered is genuine.”

Fu did not relax, and bowed low. “Venerable Shencang Bulu, [Cherry River Fool], if this lacking cultivator has given offence, he would offer apology!”

All grew quiet save for the river’s gentle flow.

Bulu stared deeply, as if trying to recall his face. “I see my enjoyment has gone too far. Very well. On the [Boundless Dao], I will bring no harm nor impede this cultivator’s path for as long as he himself wishes, may my [Core] be shattered should this fail to be true.”

The [Dao Oath] was dense and the [Karmic Tie] that tethered he and his partners to Bulu felt as if an anchor was placed upon their [Spirit].

But by the Heavens, was it freeing.

“Gratitude,” he bowed, approximating a clasp.

Small gestures led him to the river’s edge where the [Cherry River Fool] fastened her hanfu before sharing a solemn smile. “Immortality grants few fateful encounters. To walk the Jianghu brings disaster. In [Karma] and [Intent]. The children of Qi rage against Heaven, and those at the end become more like it. This is the Path of all that dare. How fate twists to land my sister’s family here is a product of greater workings.”

Gone is the fool, for now. But not all that are foolish are slobbering brutes, were these not her words?

The day’s confusion had Fu cycle his Qi for clarity, filtering all concerns into [Through Heart, Comes Thunder’s Righteous Thoughts].

He drew his pipe, and Shuidi dared to taste the rushing waters.

Bulu allowed it. “You seek passage, Gao Fu, and shall have it. But first I will plunge knives into the thread of Heaven’s workings. This [Cherry River Fool] would know. Tell me of my sister, Gao Fu. The Hollow Throne Misery, has it claimed her yet?”