Chapter 144
Still with the image of the Sect Disciple in the middle of a full chuunibyou attack present, I let out a long sigh between my fingers, remove my hands from my face and look at Song Yan with something of genuine guilt.
“I apologize to you”, I tell her with all the seriousness of which I am capable without bursting into laughter. “It was not my intention, I assure you, but by the look of it my book has managed to make some of your Sect companions stray from their path. I hope that hasn’t caused them too many problems.”
But Song Yan, far from sharing my concern, plays it down with a gesture and lets out a soft laugh.
“Don’t worry about that”, she tells me. “It isn’t anything so serious either. Believe me that, compared with the behavior of some of the other disciples, having a couple of them enthusiastic about a book and practicing with the staff turns out to be even refreshing. At least their behavior brings problems to no one, which is more than can be said of others.”
Her words reassure me more than I expected and I let out the air with relief, because the possibility that my novel might have earned me the enmity of half the Sect before I had even set foot in it was a worry that, however absurd, was beginning to circle my head.
Knowing that, in the worst of cases, the only thing I have provoked is that a handful of disciples play at being the Monkey King is a considerably more bearable weight.
Song Yan, satisfied at having sated her own curiosity, then adopts a slightly more resolute air.
“Anyway”, she says. “Since you have already answered my questions, now it is my turn to answer yours, that was the deal.”
And just at that moment, as if she had calculated it, Lianhua approaches with a couple of steaming bowls between her hands. She sits at my side, on the edge of the cloth, and holds one of them out to me with a slight inclination of the head.
“Dinner is ready now, Zhāohuán Wen”, she tells me.
“Thank you, Lianhua”, I reply, and then I turn toward Song Yan with the bowl still untouched. “Are you sure you haven’t changed your mind? There is food to spare, and I would feel quite a bit better if you shared a bit with us instead of staying to watch how we dine.”
But Song Yan shakes her head, smiling.
“I thank you, but there’s no need”, she replies. “I am more than accustomed to spending long spells living on the basis of Fasting Pills. For us it is the usual thing during missions, so it is no sacrifice to me. Eat at your ease, that I am fine like this.”
“As you wish”, I concede, without insisting further.
And so, while I begin to attend to the dinner, with Lianhua seated at my side holding my bowl and helping me when necessary, I finally take up again the matter that interested me from the beginning.
“Then, I would appreciate it if you explained to me what rules and customs I should keep in mind during my stay at the Sect”, I say between one bite and another. “I ask you very seriously, because I do not exaggerate in saying that I have not the remotest idea of how things work in there and I would not like to put my foot in it out of ignorance.”
Song Yan nods, settles herself better and begins to explain herself without any haste, with the patience of one who understands that she is speaking to someone who starts, literally, from zero.
“Let us begin with the most important thing, then”, she says. “If you were to remember only one thing of everything I am going to tell you, let it be this, that in the Sect what truly rules is cultivation, even above lineage, wealth and contacts. A cultivator with a higher level in their cultivation is superior to another with a lower level, and that’s that. That hierarchy permeates absolutely everything and, within the same rank, the one of greater cultivation is greeted first, is given way and is spoken to with respect. It is not a question of liking, but of pure order.”
I nod, keeping to myself that that detail fits perfectly with what my mother had already warned me about, and I ask her the obvious question.
“And how am I supposed to know someone’s cultivation realm just by looking at them?” I ask. “Because I imagine they don’t all go around with a sign hung on them.”
Song Yan smiles at the quip.
“With time one learns to intuit it, until you finish the Gate Opening and thus gain the capacity to know it exactly”, she replies. “And besides there exists a technique that can help those of us who are at that stage, but faced with any doubt the rule is simple, and it is to treat everyone with courtesy and not to take for granted that one is above anyone. An excess of respect rarely offends. An excess of familiarity, on the other hand, can cost dearly.”
I take mental note of that, and she continues.
“Tied to the previous point is the manner of addressing others”, she goes on. “One never speaks to the Elders with familiarity nor interrupts them, and they are always treated with the title that corresponds to them. Among disciples there also exists an order according to their rank, their cultivation and their seniority, and to those who are above one a deference is owed that it is advisable to respect. In your case, since you are not a disciple but a guest, and you have no rank, the most prudent thing is that you maintain at all times a formal and polite tone with everyone regardless of their level of cultivation.”
And after these words she casts a sidelong glance at Lianhua, which reminds me that she is at the stage of the Condensation of the Elemental Cores, and therefore is probably at least of a medium-high level in the eyes of the members of the Sect, but with the disadvantage of not being part of it.
Up to here, everything sounds reasonable and more or less predictable to me, the kind of protocol one would expect in any institution that takes itself too seriously, but the next thing Song Yan says does make me pay all my attention.
“And the next thing is also important, so engrave it well”, she warns me, and her tone becomes somewhat graver. “Never, under any circumstance, ask anyone about their Techniques nor request that they show them to you, nor take an interest in how they execute them, nor even give to understand that you feel curiosity about them. For a cultivator, their Techniques are the most valuable and the most intimate thing they possess, and to ask about them is considered little less than an insult. In the best of cases, whoever does it will come off as a hopelessly rude person. In the worst, it will be interpreted that they intend to inquire about their strength for unknown motives, and there are those who have responded to something like that with their hands instead of with words.”
That last sentence leaves me thinking, because it has implications that go quite a bit beyond simple etiquette.
“I understand”, I say slowly. “So Techniques are a strictly private matter.”
“Strictly”, she confirms. “Each one guards their own with zeal, since they represent the base of their strength and the effort they have had to make in order to be able to have the necessary merits and thus be able to acquire them in the Sect. So that, if you ever see someone executing something that catches your attention, admire it in silence and don’t ask questions, since each Disciple only shows the techniques they want to be seen and keeps the rest secret.”
I keep a small smile to myself, because that rule, far from making me uncomfortable, suits me perfectly. After all, I have come precisely with the intention of maintaining the lowest possible profile, and if here good manners consist precisely of not prying into what others do and of holding one’s tongue about one’s curiosity, then it turns out to be a game whose rules I am marvelously good at.
“There is another thing you should know”, Song Yan continues, completely oblivious to my internal calculations. “The Sect is enormous and not all of its zones are open to just anyone. There are pavilions, peaks and halls that can only be accessed with permission, and to venture into one of them without authorization is a grave offense that is easily confused with espionage or with an attempted theft. So, while you are there, don’t even think of wandering on your own. Limit yourself to the zones they indicate to you and, if you have doubts about whether or not you can enter some place, the answer is always no until someone tells you otherwise.”
“That, in my case, is not going to pose any problem”, I reply with a certain sarcasm while I give myself a few little pats on the legs. “Wandering on my own is not precisely one of my pastimes.”
Song Yan has the delicacy of not quite knowing what to do faced with my words, so she opts for a polite half-smile and carries on, which I thank her for from the bottom of my heart.
“And lastly, though not for that reason less important, there is the matter of conflicts”, she concludes. “The disciples of the Sect are, for the most part, proud people, and many consider that their pride is almost more important than their life. An unfortunate word, a gesture that is misinterpreted, and you can find yourself with an enemy without having intended anything. So measure well what you say and to whom you say it and, above all, avoid humiliating anyone in public even if you have all the reason in the world. In the Sect, making someone lose prestige in front of the others is an offense that is not easily forgotten.”
I make a pause before posing the doubt that arises for me with her words.
“And what if it is someone who decides to get on my nerves?” I ask. “By what you say, it does not seem that the people of the Sect stand out precisely for their patience with outsiders.”
“For that there are channels”, she replies. “Confrontations between disciples are not resolved with blows in any old corner, but rather there are established places and manners for settling disputes. To duel in private, and much less to come to major blows, is strictly prohibited and is punished harshly. So, if someone provokes you, the most sensible thing is that you don’t give them the satisfaction of responding and that, if it comes to it, you let it be those responsible who occupy themselves with the matter instead of trying to resolve it on your own.”
Then Song Yan keeps adding some minor detail or other, nuances about how to behave in this or that situation, and I listen to it all with attention while I finish dining. By the time I attend to the last bite, I have the sensation of having formed a fairly decent idea of how I should conduct myself once we arrive, which was exactly what I was looking for.
At my side, Lianhua, who has remained the whole while holding my bowl, has also stayed to listen to the explanation with the same quiet attention as I. And it does not surprise me in the least, because I know that she is registering each word as carefully as I or more, with that attention of hers that does not let a single detail escape that might be of use to me.
I hold out the empty bowl to Lianhua, who takes it, and I turn again toward Song Yan.
“I thank you from the heart for the patience you have had”, I tell her, and this time I say it with all the sincerity in the world. “I know that explaining all this to someone who starts from zero is no easy task, and nevertheless you have done it without complaining a single time. I truly thank you.”
Song Yan, faithful to her custom, plays it down with a gesture.
“You don’t have to thank me so much”, she replies. “Deep down, by explaining it to you I am also sparing myself problems. Think about it, if you were to break some rule for not knowing it, there would always be someone willing to say that the fault is ours for not having explained it to you, since we are supposed to bring you under our responsibility. So, by taking those complications off your shoulders, I am taking them off mine as well. It is pure self-interest, I assure you.”
I smile at her way of deflecting her own merit, because, however one looks at it, she has nonetheless dedicated a good while of her time to me, and that, however practical she may want to make it seem, has its value.
Song Yan gets to her feet, brushes off her clothing and casts a glance toward where Bai Zhen continues with his inflexible vigilance.
“Anyway, now that we have finished, it will be better for me to return to my guard shift”, she says. “Lest Bai Zhen begin to grow impatient over my absence and I earn myself a reprimand. You already know how he is.”
“Of course”, I reply, returning her smile. “I wouldn’t want to cause you problems right after everything you have explained to me. Thank you again, Song Yan.”
She makes a brief gesture of farewell and moves away to rejoin her post, and I follow her a moment with my gaze, thinking that, if the whole Sect were like her, perhaps this trip would not turn out so uphill for me.
With Song Yan back to her obligations, Lianhua also gets to her feet while she gathers up the empty bowls.
“I am going to clean all this and to help Ling Xia tidy up”, she tells me. “The moment I finish, I’ll come back to put you to bed.”
“All right”, I reply. “Take all the time you need, that I am in no hurry at all.”
Lianhua nods and moves away toward the fire, where Xia has already begun to gather up her utensils, and the two of them set to washing up and tidying with the efficiency of always.
And I stay alone, with my back resting against the enormous wheel of the carriage, contemplating how the sky has gradually been tinged with the dark tones of nightfall and the first stars begin to peek out over the parched landscape.
I should be thinking about the elders, about the interview that awaits me and about how to fail it with the greatest possible elegance. I should be mentally reviewing the rules Song Yan has just explained to me, or worrying about what awaits me at the end of these five days of road.
But, instead of that, my mind insists on returning again and again to a much more absurd and much less transcendent detail.
Because, if in the Sect there are disciples who know my novel by heart, who take up fighting with the staff out of pure imitation and who go around proclaiming that they will master the seventy-two transformations dressed as the Monkey King, then a possibility opens up that until a moment ago had not even crossed my mind. And it is that, when I finally set foot in the Sect’s headquarters, it is very probable that, besides having to deal with a handful of elders who want to examine me like a fairground oddity, I will also have to face something for which, sincerely, none of my mother’s etiquette classes has prepared me.
A small group of enthusiastic fans who have decided that Sun Wukong is their idol.
And that thought makes me let out a long sigh toward the starry sky, since of all the complications I imagined this trip would bring me, that one, certainly, was not on the list.