Fatherly Asura

….allowance is acceptable, establishing firm impressions of one’s means.

For the adolescent, I must remind that while centuries observe slow change in station, politics and culture, the world of the young is a shifting quagmire.

Be insightful.

Inquire as to latest trends…

The thin tome in Zhu’s lap vanished into storage before Fu might glimpse its title.

Half again across the Golden Merchant Canton, and Fu lulled near an ornate gate.

It was quiet here, outwith the city’s main density. Few of the neighbouring buildings were above two stories, and this press of maddened architecture had faded long into these assassins’ travels.

His hand traced the characters upon gate once more.

“Gao,” he said, seeing the teal, the patternage of clouds and a small vessel upon the waters painted there. Modest and perfect. “Yuqi’s brushstrokes.”

Tanshaui was enraptured, landing on the lantern that shone aside it. Her silhouette was vast upon the exterior walls of this courtyard, splaying her wings well wide.

Kang Jae hummed. “A talent, your daughter.”

At rest on Zhu’s shoulder, Yasodhara did not speak. Samudra shared nothing of it either, knowing well the profundity of this moment.

What did occur was a tap. For Fu’s plum-eyed brother knocked a blackened douli free, having Hushi catch it. “The moment has you forget, Fu.”

A hundred faults. His bluntness, impropriety, foolishness and love for indecent things. But this is family, no? Our brother and sister of different blood, they treat my heart well.

Fu withdrew Mei’s douli, donning it like second skin. “A poor way to catch fish, no? To stand upon the shore.”

The gate thrust open and all the treasuries of [Sixth Under Heaven] could not compare to this sight.

Beyond the serenity of a tended river, at flow with three bridges. The compound of stretching screens and moon doors betwixt pristine, teal grasses, [Spiritual Herbs], the muted lanterns and oddity of lesser serpents that coiled playfully about them: beyond all this, stood a peerless island.

Insignificant.

Yet peerless.

A single heartbeat had the [Clouded Ghost Arts] lapse, announcing his presence to the meditating Yuqi ahead. She held a lax lotus position, with Yiji as a cushion to her back.

The robust [Spirit Tiger] winked open an eye.

“Peace Yiji,” trilled Yuqi, a laugh ever in her voice. “Waking from sleep is never kind to you, it cannot be.”

Fu walked forth, shrinking the surety of all serpents present.

His daughter swivelled at Yiji’s rise. “My Yiji, why-” Here the mists did not reach, and yet her cheek grew dewy. “Father?”

Yuqi thrust herself from the island, her footsteps resounding across the garden’s bridges. Her grace undone as Yiji bounded behind her, growling to warn of her hanfu’s trails as they caught-

One breath had Fu catch his Yuqi in embrace. Something deep, in which her entirety wound between his full grip. “My Yuqi,” he laughed. “My sweet Yuqi. It has been an eternity and a day.”

“Father,” she wept, sinking deeper until her hand felt his greatest absence. “Father, where is your arm? What happened in your duty? Are you well? I have tended [Spiritual Herbs] for you and uncle Hushi, come, and I-”

For this late hour, his laugh was improper. “Worry not my Yuqi, worry not. Your father is not troubled by old wounds. Let me see you now. A woman of seventeen moons, look at the beauty you have become!”

“Father! Be serious!” she demanded, eschewing her tears for reddened cheeks.

Fu grinned, placing her at arm’s length. “Serious? I could not be, for joy fills me like an ocean. There is much to talk of and much to do. At this hour I would not trouble you with it. If your siblings sleep then our reunion might wait until tomorrow, although there are grand introductions to be made.”

A blur launched from the rear, embracing Yuqi with eight arms.

The moment shone within Fu, Hushi and Shuidi’s [Core], shedding all burdens.

“Uncle Hushi,” she rejoiced, seeing a shell upon her father’s shoulder. “And an aunt,” her sudden bow came.

Shuidi blurred to Yuqi’s outstretched palm, and the Qi shivered. “This one… Gao Shuidi. In… greeting.”

Sister! Surely your talent knows no bounds, and your scheming. Hah! To mask this was a feat well done indeed.

Pride could not overcome the mirth about them, only enrich it.

“Aunt Shuidi. This daughter is honored to know another third of her father’s heart. Please, be welcome in your home.”

A final surprise had the Old One manifest. “Gao Yuqi, Gao Yiji. This Old One extends his greetings, as is proper!”

His daughter bowed deeply. “Noble Old One, our hospitality extends to all. This daughter will do her best to provide whatever you seek,” the earnest youth rose. “If honorifics are of importance then they will remain, but this daughter was cautioned never to address another’s age for fear of offence. Would laoyeye be allowed, or master?”

Of a thousand moons. Ten thousand techniques. The once-immortal [Constellation Seed] and bane of [An Array in One Hand], blushed.

“Laoyeye is, ah, too informal. Yeye will do, Gao Yuqi. Yes, grandfather is a fitting title if Gao Fu allows!” Swift was the catfish’s retraction into Fu’s [Spirit], swifter yet were his mental impressions. “Yuqi’er possesses insight into the [Dao of Hearts], surely. Monstrous offspring from monstrous fathers, no?”

The endearing ‘er did not escape Fu, and wider did his smile grow.

Many sequences were to follow. Many introductions. But of importance was Yiji’s greeting, for he could not neglect his daughter’s soul. The matter of priority stood, and as Patriarch this scene was indeed novel.

Fu stooped to the [Spirit Tiger], whose dream-like attention was a rarity. “Gao Yiji. My daughter and your heart remain intact. Both have blossomed in my absence, and for this my thanks are eternal.”

Impressions chided him within, for Hushi said this was not enough.

Thus the douli was lifted, and Fu set his brow against Yiji’s own. “Heart of my daughter. Son of her blood. A thousand thanks.”

This sentiment aligned well.

Fresh dew soaked Yuqi’s cheek as her partner bowed low.

Of the admittedly, many, screens about this… estate: his children’s home, a set of figures had darkened but one since their arrival.

Shaokang, the self-indentured brute, and his [Spirit Crocodile].

What faith in their security is there if he allowed our entry?

“The inscription upon these walls permits none without your expression, youngling. Work on par with the [Cherry River Fool’s] spatial workings some hours prior. Do not discount the Cherry River.”

Fu met Shaokang’s watch, accepting his distant bow of greeting. “There is one more, daughter,” he said, turning to find Yasodhara upright as Zhu left her behind.

Something tickled Fu’s heart at his nearing.

Some impropriety is to follow, no doubt.

Strange then- low, then, was Zhu’s sweeping bow. A sign of face ungiven to all but Bingbai and Cloudy Serpent Sect Elders. It commenced at his stride’s end, unveiling Tanshuai as he lifted. “Gao Yuqi, I have heard a thousand tales of you. It is our honor and pleasure to put a face to a name, and a greater blessing that such beauty has not been marred in inheritance by my brother’s unfortunate features. We are Zhu and Tanshuai.”

Yuqi proved reserved at the stranger that had just insulted her father. “Master Zhu, Mistress Tanshuai, I…” No, his daughter did not suffer from the insult. Rather, she blushed. “My father spoke of you in [Seasons] past. With my sister and brother in mind, I will express our joint gratitude. Thank you, Zhu and Tanshuai, for keeping our father safe.”

“He has done no less for us,” he said, withdrawing a gilded box from storage. “Matters of family cannot be forced, and I have much to learn. Gao Fu names me uncle and yet this word is hollow if put upon you. My understanding is small in this, and I hope to earn such a title. An allowance is common no? Please accept this as introduction.”

My brother vanishes. Such efforts were unnecessary.

A swift step pushed the box aside, and Yuqi embraced him. “Any that ensure our father’s return might be named family a hundredfold. Thank you, uncle Zhu.”

Zhu went rigid. “Ah, Gao Yuqi- niece. Gratitude.”

“Daughter, we will save further introductions for the morning. The road here was not short. Is there space enough?”

The party was led forward to be met by Shaokang. A stern, grunting attendant if ever there was one. “Master Gao. Your rooms.”

With Yuqi’s arm linked with his own, Fu followed a procession from far to near.

This compound was modest in feel, lacking the grand displays of the thousand homes this assassin had stolen by in his tenure. Trees stood in place of grand ornamentation, and murals lined the exterior screens of most buildings they passed.

Yasodhara’s was plain, and in… no less than a guest wing. Much to Fu’s astonishment. Her departure was polite as she and Samudra vanished within, leaving the rest to move further toward the compound’s core.

Many entrances were passed until one detailed with a tranquil bamboo forest, aglow to a backdrop of gentle flames. “Spectacled fire cultivator,” grunted Shaokang. “Your quarters.”

Kang Jae paled. “A-a-a mistake?” Any lodgings will be met with… utmost gratitude, yet I am no fire cultivator.”

Gentle was not the word for Shaokang’s opening. “Venerable Hua lies now, does she?”

[Wood Qi] is his [Affinity], and yet Grandmother would know best. Strange that he has such furnishings prepared for our arrival. Does she know his stay will be long?

To avoid further questioning Kang Jae affected a great and hasty bow, slipping within the chambers a moment later.

The last door was plum, patterned with a thousand butterflies.

“Gao Zhu,” grunted Shaokang.

Both assassins stalled, calling “Gao Zhu?” in concert.

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Fu stroked deeply of his whisker. “That is presumptuous of the [Cherry River Sage], if indeed you relay her words Shaokang.”

A hand raised to interrupt what might come next. “Gao Zhu. Of all names, it is not terrible,” said the plum-eyed cultivator, opening his screen. “A thing to drink on.”

🀧

Sleep was a thing well supplemented by cultivation. At [Foundation Realm] it was a necessity, as most mortal constraints remained to be.

Fu neared the conclusion of middle [Core Formation], his Path of [Mind] nigh complete.

Within chambers detailed with stylized mists upon each furnishing, screen and eave, the assassin pondered deep of this.

Sleep was one facet.

Mortal constraints were many.

For those that made day of night, and fathers that wished not to pry with a cultivator’s [Senses], such rumination would do until an… acceptable hour arrived in which to greet his remaining children.

Thus Shuidi’s brush stroked.

“Fundamentals of technique ascension requires exemplary foundational understanding of infiltration and methodology. The intrinsic tactics undergo ascension to compete with enhanced [Dao], techniques, [Karmic Ties].” Fu waivered. “Were Pinxui here she would straighten this bag of serpents. Words must exist to clarify this. In beginning [Seasons] we would not understand this without aid. Let us demystify.”

The scroll in question was a training aid. A tome to better prepare what new recruits might join their Cloud Gathering Division in the coming moons.

Clouded Courts training alone winnowed the talentless, but good fortune was a boon that not all would share. Diligence. Dedication. Loyalty. Prudence. Those without would meet fitting ends.

Suitable ends, for neither Wayward Winds or Cloud Gathering would suffer fools.

Hushi impressed several words.

“To articulate this clearly should not be so difficult. Merely state that one’s Path must include the potential for evolution from mortal methods to that of a higher realm’s contention. Counters must be prepared against the more mystic aspects of cultivation that elites and talented adversaries are soon to possess.”

Conjunction with his [Clouded Ghost Arts], learned stealth techniques, [Might] and internalized [Dao of Wind’s Present Whispers] had allowed him to contest cultivators within the Marches of Green and Blue.

[Spring]-fed fools.

No elites as the future might hold where Sects and loftily numbered clans of the One Hundred and Eight might be included.

“[Karma] troubles me. One in a million possess the ability to react to it. To use treasures to erase our [Karmic Ties] would grow expensive, and Bingbai states not whether Zhu and Tanshuai are to act with us within the Heavenly Roaming province.”

Motes of gold rose, if at Hushi’s bidding. His impression highlighted their internal [Dao], pondering its use as a [Karmic] buffer.

Shuidi stowed the scroll in their spatial ring.

“Let us meditate on it,” he said, seeing that night would still reign for several hours yet.

🀧

“Patriarch Gao,” was the unfamiliar note that both roused and had him barely restrain the intent to withdraw a blade.

“A moment,” he returned.

Sun tinged the compound’s surrounding mists, holding a brightness and vivacity that might well have marked midday. Had he not washed himself in the small hours, this process of waking might have taken even more time.

A flash had him dressed in modest attire, eschewing the uniform of his station for a plain hanfu of rust-hued fabrics.

“Patriarch Gao,” bowed a slight and fragile youth. “This humble servant is An, sister to Shaokang.”

The [Hundred Immunities Fruit] tasted a scent.

“An,” Fu met. “A pleasure to meet you. It has been many [Seasons] since my last spell within Divine Clouded Mountain, your presence here has me at a disadvantage. Are you in Grandmother Hua’s employ?”

Her smile seemed to pain her, and flecks of blood were visible on her teeth. “My apologies Patriarch Gao, I am in your employ as a compliment to brother Shaokang’s services. My duties is the stewarding of your estate and that of financial affairs. The [Cherry River Sage] has instructed me thus, and I hope I do not disappoint.”

Shuidi blurred to her cultivator’s shoulder, impressing the obvious. “Mortal?” her Qi questioned.

“Young An, forgive this forwardness, but you appear to be suffering from a malady of [Spatial] origin. A sickness, or poison? We need not stand if it troubles you greatly, I would not have someone grow worse for my benefit.”

This surprised the young mortal so much that she drew a cough. “It is no trouble,” she managed after several bouts. “Venerable Hau has it in her attention, and her generosity in [Medicinal Arrays] is a matter of endless gratitude. In five moons of therapy it will be cleansed. Please, Patriarch, I bring messages.”

Cleansed? Grandmother Hua holds no plans for her other than this? Naturally she would spare no more attention than is needed. And yet, a servant? That makes two in our employ.

The misty daylight was a warning. His children awaited him.

“Be as tranquil pools,” said Shuidi, finding confidence in her tone. Her voice. For with this overheard practice, the haughty voice of a Young Mistress sneered out.

An froze.

The [Spirit Crab] appeared at her wrist, widened a slit of no vital import and swallowed the entirety of the [Spatial] malady in moments. A heartbeat and she had deposited it within a vial, seeking it as an addition to their [Hundred Poisons Synthesis].

[Senses] spoke that the sickness was simply gone.

“Sister, you must not touch another without their permission. One’s body is hallowed, and a servant is no tool to be used as we please. Apologies, young An. I hope our intrusion did not startle you,” he half-bowed.

Much blinking occurred.

“My pain… is gone? In a moment. Patriarch Gao this gift,” she made to go prostrate, meeting Fu stalling palm. “The messages! At the behest of Mistress Yuling I was to allow you rest, and must inform you that she, Mistress Yuqi and Master Feng are at work clearing their schedules to receive you properly come evening. This humble servant is also under instruction from the [Cherry River Sage] that,” she cleared her throat. “The foolish oaf will do things properly if he returns during my absence, there are legalities in question and duties that he cannot excuse as frivolity. See them done.”

A father cannot be disappointed at his children’s diligence, they are no fresh youths after all. I will not interrupt, although this evening cannot come swiftly enough.

Fu’s smile was wide. “You are brave, An, to contend with such a tiger. Tell me of these frivolities that I cannot be excused from.”

An hour or more passed in misty walks and Fu spied how the avenues of the Golden Merchant Canton were vast indeed, holding a spectrum of the prideful and the mundane.

Curious, and alien to his vocation were those that had their partners’ cultivation reflect so openly in this light. Something likewise disallowed within the Empire of Abundant [Spring], for only those of the highest Castes presented the mystical with such fervor.

Phoenixes came of [Spirit Swallows], Eagles and others. How lightning crowned the horns of [Spirit Oxen] that labourers of late [Core Formation] had aid them in their business. And chiefly, the abundance of serpents within every whorl of mist: the titans of shadow, water, fog, and Qi-tranformed features upon most eaves, signs and lamps.

Watching Fu’s passing with small deference.

Shaokang was a breaker for the crowds, five strides ahead with his imposing [Spirit Crocodile]. Muscles such as his, no, his brutality was not prized among cultivators. Sleek power was prized across the Jianghu. Grace over muscles.

Observation spoke of the crowds’ station. The openly-worn jian, finery of cloth and an assassin’s ever-aid: Sect heraldry.

His appearance speaks of trouble. An assumption that either his strength is so vast he need fear no insult from others, or that he cares so little that dishonor would come from engaging with him. The tactic is valid, whether he knows it or not.

“We have arrived, Patriarch Gao,” said An.

Gold was the singular material upon this great paifang, or set as it was. An approach began from this avenue, parted from mundane citizenry by nine separate gates. As if each minor expanse was a ward unto itself, required to create distance for any who did not belong.

“Ninth Golden Reserve,” both Fu read and Shaokang grunted in announcement. “This way, Gao Fu.”

An took this small procession’s head to conduct negotiations with those that stood guard beneath each paifang. There came an exchange of tokens, chits and shows of paperwork at each before they were waved on by cultivators of resplendent armor.

[Spirit Carp] shoaled about their heads. Four each.

One set became two, and on to nine before the final guards deigned to speak in more than cursory platitudes. For after the exchange of documents there came a courteous, “As it is willed, please stand for the gate to open. The great Ninth Golden Reserve will receive you now.”

Hostile Qi grasped at the three, and Shuidi prepared to loose a swiftly conjured [Array] to dispel the coming effects.

Part and parcel, I should think. Peace, sister, though I am grateful for your vigilance.

Translocation techniques took a grand toll on the untested, surprising Fu as Shaokang was first to move from an immediate burst of gold. After a thousand [Imperial Realms] visited, he had to admire the man’s [Resilience] if it outpaced his own.

Shaokang’s [Spirit Crocodile], Waipi, secured An from temporary collapse with the coarse and profound skin upon his back.

“Doorways suffice,” the brother grunted.

Fu agreed. “They do, Shaokang. Though I have encountered few graceful ways to enter another’s [Inner World]. This Ninth Golden Reserve are a power to contend with. We would do well not to offend them.”

An institution to guard one’s wealth. The Beggar Sect employ a similar method. Though savings and billwork are foreign to us, we might at least assess their security. An might handle what remains until we are at least less ignorant, no? A good thing to know.

[Spring’s] Repositories were not as lavish as this. Certainly not as gold. The realm that manifested after their spatial leap was a disconnected array of platforms, each with a clerk and customer in attendance, set against a backdrop of an unmoving, golden sunrise.

That their clerk did not arrive within heartbeats spoke ill of their status here.

But after a good count of minutes, they did. A descent of this platform, an ornate desk with two seats upon it and a [True Lord Realm] clerk that did not rise to greet them.

First to board was Shaokang, whose silence did not menace the scholarly cultivator at rest there, nor his shoal of [Spirit Carp].

“Please be seated,” he no less than droned. “The Ninth Golden Reserve recognises that time is its own currency, and comports themselves as such. Those that do not understand that often have difficulty securing our partnership.”

Shuidi put her audible speech to use, sneering in contempt as Fu offered An the seat, as executor of Grandmother Hua’s will.

“Patriarch Gao, this seat is yours,” she shook.

Fu thought it improper of her to stand, but dared not tempt the wrath of this scholar. “I extend my gratitude at this meeting, I understand it was done at short notice. This accommodation of the Ninth Golden Reserve surely speaks to their versatility.”

“Yes, yes,” half ignored the clerk, materializing a sheath of golden papyrus. “Your household manager, assumedly this… mortal youth, has completed the requisite appointment documents every day for many [Seasons] now. Few could believe that this was not in jest. Now, I believe that you wish to open an account with us, and sign deeds to transfer ownership of the lands at the meeting of Nine String Avenue and Eighty-Seventh Row in the Old Tranquilities ward, Master…” he glanced at the documents. “Gao Fu?”

Knowing well the capacity of an immortal’s memory, Fu pondered if his retinue’s contextually low realms of cultivation had brought about this disdain.

Without the [Clouded Ghost Arts], his cultivation would be a match for Shaokang. A stone’s throw from late [Core Formation], which the [Cherry River Sage] no doubt had some hand in.

“If the righteous clerk might explain all this entails?”

Withering was his sigh. Loud was his eye roll. “Yes, yes, indeed. The Ninth Golden Reserve is one project of the venerable [Ninth Under Heaven], who, in his vast omnipotence foresaw the need for an independent courier of the Clear Sky citizenry’s wealth. With two millenia of investment experience among our most prestigious employees, and with a pre-requisitive of a century to begin apprenticeship, we have stewarded the financial futures of myriad illustrious clients.”

“That is history, clerk,” said Shaokang. “Master Gao asked on the accounts.”

A visible curl bent the employee’s nose at this address. “Very astute, cultivator. But Gao Fu, I must insist that in the interests of time we do not become waylaid by mouthy subordinates and detracting statements, yes? Time is currency, and currently the Ninth Golden Reserve stands to lose much if this continues.”

An sent a pleading look towards her brother.

Fu’s lips thinned. “The account specifics, please, master clerk.”

“The accounts of the Ninth Golden Reserve run in tiers as is suitable for the individual’s wealth. Profound tier, Earth tier and Heaven tier respectively, beginning at the lower ranges of our customer’s current wealth. Each offer benefits of that station, including returns on investment, rates of interest, familial loyalty allowance, and estate management services to name but a few. Although I must inform you that Profound tier possesses few of these associated benefits.”

With no indication of the Gao clan’s wealth, An nodded diplomatically. “The Profound tier begins for those at an income of ten thousand middle-grade spirit stones a week, Patriarch Gao, ascending to the Earth tier at one upper-grade spirit stone for the same. In approximation. One need not display active transcripts of their earnings, as deposits are an equally valid show of gainful means.”

“Equally valid, yes, yes. I suppose so,” he said, carelessly slapping a detailed scroll down that Fu might inspect. “The standard rate for the safe-guarding of one’s wealth is nominal compared to that, and naturally, reflected within the tier of income. Many of our Profound tier customers have shied away from the cost, however, choosing instead simply to bury their wealth as is fitting for those of their… sensibilities.”

Waipi seethed with [Killing Intent].

Shuidi flustered to feel so powerful a will, approximating a [Spirit Crab’s] blush.

“Waipi, Shaokang, you honor me with this defence. But the Gao clan are well versed in receiving insults,” he smiled, unveiling [Profundity]. “Great souls turn mountains into molehills, and molehills into nothing at all.”

The clerk took passing notice of this. “Ah, the [Dao] are no currency Gao Fu. If you would, my ink is valuable and this exchange dries it swiftly,” he said, noting a proffered quill.

“A thousand apologies, master clerk. Yes, ten thousand, was it not?”

Hushi deposited their sum upon the desk, ordering it with each arm.

Silence.

“P-p-p-peak grade!” shrieked the clerk, collapsing backwards out of his chair.

Before [Senses] could react there arrived a heavenly presence. An enraged man of bushy brow and [Ink]-covered crown. With a single breath he activated no less than severity three [Array] formations upon their platform, sealing sight, sound and myriad more potential intrusions before the clerk’s cries could carry.

“Foolish clerk! To dare insult a client of this illustrious nature! May the [Boundless Dao] curse your Path!” the man fumed.

Shaokang might have smiled.

Cu certainly did.

“Master Gao Fu,” he bowed. “The Ninth Golden Reserve offers great apologies for the behaviour of this once-clerk. Privacy is among our highest tenets, something this worthless dog has forgotten! Sinful! Shameless! His family shall be struck-”

Fu smiled. “Please master cultivator, it is unpleasant, but an understandable state of affairs. My hope is that going forward, the Ninth Golden Reserve look with more than their eyes, yes?”

“As you say,” fervently agreed this man of beyond [True Lord Realm]. “As you say indeed! This one is Zhenpin, third husband to [Ninth Under Heaven]! Might I burden you with my presence? Beneath all of Heaven’s auspices, there must be a boon I can grant to begin reparations?”

The assassin gestured once. “Chairs for my household, Master Zhenpin,” he smiled. “And perhaps a larger desk? My pockets have grown very heavy of late.”