Sky Pride

“I must confess, I am a little disappointed. Particularly because it does so many things well. The presentation boxes are really nice, and the flavor from the oranges is great. The aroma is excellent, fresh and lively, and as promised, you really can steep it over and over again without it losing its qi. It comes down to the choice of tea. White tea isn’t a bad choice, but it’s not the right choice.”

Tian spoke with more sorrow than anger. Everyone else thought it was quite nice, but Tian knew better. “The Harmony Village style tea that Sister Lin has would be a much better fit. The savory woodyness of it would add both depth and body to the brightness of the orange. Particularly since the aged orange rind isn’t aggressively sweet in the first place. It needs the supporting notes to bring the necessary fullness and mouthfeel.”

The tea service had been moderately successful. He hadn’t added much qi to the tea so the mortals could safely enjoy it. How much elemental understanding they picked up was pretty uncertain. Tian noticed it was strongly variable, with people naturally understanding more about the elements they were already somewhat familiar with. The person who had gotten the most out of it so far was Daoist Mei, but she was a prodigy of the Five Elements Courtyard. It would have been stranger if she didn’t pick up on everything.

He closed his eyes with a light sigh. When he opened them again, they flashed with determination. “We shall save the rinds from the Sungold Oranges, and acquire this… Harmony Village Tea. If the Lin Clan can get it, then so can we. We shall make our own tea-stuffed oranges.” He set his cup down on the tray with a click of grim finality.

“Incidentally, Censor, Little Treasure, you can go ahead and study the diagrams if you want. No need to keep sneaking peeks, we have enough supplies to make you plenty of the lotion too.”

“Can I really, Brother Immortal?” Little Treasure shot up and looked ready to rush off. Hong nodded along with Tian.

“Sure. Try to remember the pictures and how they made you feel. Don’t worry about the words or the internal circulation pathways. It’s still too soon for you to learn that. But you will definitely benefit if you start practicing the physical movements now.” Hong encouraged the boy.

Censor Henshen coughed awkwardly. “I’m not sure that’s really appropriate, Immortal Tian. At least for me. This is an art clearly intended for the use of the Imperial Family.”

“Yes… about that.” There were literal bushels of oranges preserved in the spiritual wax of the Tallow Tree. Hong was silently calculating on her fingers as she looked at the loot and looked at the number of oranges on the trees.

“The monk outside said that orange trees live for a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty years. But this orchard was planted around the same time the kingdom was established, making it at least a few thousand years old. Even for trees, that’s a damned long time.” Liren’s voice was heavy with suspicion.

“And Starsieve is still alive, so… that’s alarming in a way. Reassuring in another, I guess. Ancient Crane Monastery really can provide a path to true immortality.” Tian smiled slightly, remembering a conversation he had with Auntie Wu. Immortal cultivators weren’t really immortal, just very long lived compared to mortals. She had scolded him and told him not to tell anyone else that. Everyone knew, they were just touchy about it.

“My point is that these clearly aren’t normal trees, and the arrays and the dragon vein, whatever that is, has clearly done something to everything in here. It’s subtle, but it’s here.” Hong waved past Tian’s observation. “But spiritual trees tend to produce less fruit, because they are concentrating their energy into just a few fruits. Look on the trees- each tree has a dozen, maybe a score of oranges, and the oranges are damned small. That’s not much compared to a normal orange tree. They are shorter, too.”

“You grow oranges?”

“My mom does. Or, well, we have a couple of orange trees planted near the house. We grow a lot of food crops near the house. Trying to see what will still grow.” Her voice turned bitter, then she shook it off. “Figure the tree spirit ate lots of oranges. There are still, what, ten years worth of harvests here? More? We have two storage rings full of aged oranges, and there is a sentence I never thought I would say. So how did it all pile up? How did the spirit turn so twisted? How come we don’t hear about any Imperial experts slaughtering the rebellious with their Dragon Suppressing Palms?”

There was silence in the orchard as everyone scratched their heads about that one. Then Tian laughed.

“Oh heavens, it’s an Imperial Family Secret. And not just any secret, something passed down through the main line.”

“Probably? So?”

“So Empress Zhu killed off essentially all of the Imperial Family. The secret died with them. Zhu’s husband was never supposed to inherit the throne, and even if the previous emperor told him, he was bedridden after a stroke for years. That spirit has probably gone crazy, trapped in here all by itself with nothing to do but stare at pictures of a martial art it can’t use properly, and eat oranges that are contrary to its nature. I guarantee the reason there is so much wax available is because the spirit collected each seed off the ground and processed them to make sure neither it, nor its mother, had any competition.”

The word ‘competition’ triggered memories of the bathhouse. The weak concubine, ‘enjoying’ the advances of the Emperor, and the concubine who destroyed the other concubine’s tea set. Did Censor Hanshen say how old Zhu was when she was recruited into the imperial household? It was fourteen, wasn’t it?

Tian poured out the rest of the tea pot into the cups, and started tidying up. He took another sip of the tea and sighed. Most people would probably think it tasted good, but it hurt knowing it could be so much better. Ah well. It would be one he could serve on special occasions to mortals or something.

“Grandpa, can we make the paste the murals describe here? Or the ointment you mentioned?”

Sorry, no, for both. You will want some manner of alchemist for the paste, and the ointment I have in mind does take some finicky temperature controls. Best done on a proper stove, with proper equipment.

There was a pause.

Also, I want to start encouraging you to beat the hell out of any alchemist you catch trying to make medicine out of lead and mercury. Just as a sort of ongoing public service. Be very direct with them. They won’t get better unless you explain, and you will want time to rest your slapping hand. It can get sore over a long learning opportunity, and you can’t help others if you don’t take care of yourself.

“Let’s get ready to move on. We need to find an alchemist to make the paste, and we certainly won’t learn the art in a day. I think there is a convent a few days from here. Let’s stop by and see what help they can give us. With any luck, they will have our mail.” Tian said, determined to ignore Grandpa.

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“Um. Immortal Big Bro?”

“Yes, Little Treasure?”

“Was the grandpa of the imperial family really the sectmaster of the Ancient Crane Monastery?"

“Well… maybe. It might be a sort of affectionate relationship. Those seniors get very old, and who knows how many generations removed the Founding Emperor was from Grand Elder Starsieve?”

“Oh. It sounded like he was his real grandpa.”

Tian shrugged. “Maybe he was. Lots of immortals have mortal families. Perhaps to a sect master, a kingdom is just a nice little business to keep their descendants’ rice bowls full.”

It was slow going after they slipped away from the temple. The ferryman had hung around, which was good, but there wasn’t an easy river connection once they were back on the mainland.

They wound up going overland by oxcart to a farming village. A farmer was persuaded to introduce the party to his father, who was a fisherman these days. The father was persuaded that shiny silver was easier to carry in his ratty old boat than shiny fish, and a day as a ferryman and guide wasn’t too much of a bother. The Green River was safe enough, usually, but the water level was dropping as the summer went on. It would be easy for a stranger to run onto some rocks or a sandbar.

By this point, Tian and Hong were clinging on to their sanity by the very tips of their fingernails. Neither had moved so slowly in years. The fisherman was working his way upstream with an acceptable speed for an old mortal, but Tian could see Hong struggling not to take the oar off him.

Tian had insisted; if he needed to rest, so did she. Though they did change boats after resting for the night in a little town. The rest of their journey to the convent was… endurable, but they were antsy. It was hard to sit on a mountain of cultivation resources and not be able to put them immediately to use.

The convent was on a hill outside of Three Streams Town. They stashed the mortals in an inn, then went to find out if they could borrow a guest house inside the convent walls for a couple of days. No need to ask for directions. The Sisters were setting off fireworks and banging gongs hard enough that Tian could hear them from the town square.

The gate guard at the convent gave Tian a bleary look, and grabbed him up into a reeling dance. Tian was not a dancer. He did not know this dance, or any dance, but did his best to keep up. Liren crashed in and body checked the dancing guard into the wall. None of these things seemed to put the slightest dent in the older woman’s mood.

“You two are sober. Can’t be sober here! I haven’t seen a sober person in DAYS.” She slurred, shoving a wine jug towards them. “C’mon! We still got two more days of celebrating to do, you gotta chach, warhf, CATCH up.”

They managed to slip away from the guard and into the convent. It was nicer than many Tian had seen. The convents always seemed to have more little benches and stools set out than the temples, and the convent in Three Streams Town clearly favored wide shade trees shoved in everywhere they would fit. Other than that, it was the usual white plaster walls, black tile roofs and polished wooden floors you saw in most of the Outer Court. Everything easy to clean and keep peaceful.

Usually.

Not today.

Today, he watched women wrapping up their second century vomiting into an ornamental pond, rinsing their mouth with white spirits, then getting in a fistfight with a centenarian before hugging and weeping on the shoulder of the person they were just fighting.

Tian and Hong eventually tracked down the Senior Sister managing the convent. She was sitting very still, smiling peacefully. The many large clay jars near her, their red or blue paper tops ripped away, suggested that standing up was no more possible than introducing blood into her alcohol stream. They quickly introduced themselves and asked what was going on.

“We are celebrating for a week. We just found out that Big Sis’ Bai broke through to the Heavenly Realm. And not just broke through, she had a revelation. Way better than that old dog Fu’s. Way better. So much better. Can’t even compare them. Big Sis’ Bai always been the best. That Fu scoundrel might have stolen a single step, but how could Big Sis’ Bai fall behind? Best big sis’. Best.”

She was speaking very softly, clearly trying to enunciate.

“Bai? Which Bai?” Hong asked.

“OUR Bai. Big Sis’ Bai. Your big sis too.” The senior leaned heavily on the table, a rich smile spilling from her aged face.

“My Bai?” Hong looked uncomprehending. Then, “You don’t mean Auntie Bai? The Senior Sister Bai who supervises the West Town Convent do you?”

“I do. It was weeks ago or something. We just got word the other day. Came with your letters. Official notice. But the unofficial stuff is so much juicier. We sent some rush missions to the Wasteland for more details. Haven’t heard back, but what we hear around the sect is… so good. So, so good.”

“Senior, please, say more.” Hong urged. Tian knew she didn’t have quite the same relationship with Senior Sister Bai as he had with Brother Fu, but Hong’s respect for her bordered on reverence. Tian had great appreciation for her too. Senior Bai had done her utmost to raise his sister, despite the challenges that must have presented.

“So, rumor is this. A few weeks ago, Senior Sister is coming back from a mission. Buncha brothers and sisters with her, dead heretics from hell to breakfast, usual, usual. She takes a moment and watches the sun rise. Dawn in the wasteland, her planted on a rocky ridge, iron staff in her hand as the red dawn paints her. Must have been so amazing. So beautiful. Then, with the purple flash from the east, came the revelation. She started preaching.”

“And the lightning?” Hong asked.

“What lightning? Big Sis’ Bai is way better than that dog Fu. The heavens sent a tribulation to him to finally shut up his howling at the moon, and it’s just proof of his cussedness that even the heavens couldn’t settle him down.” She slapped the table hard enough to send the empty jugs flying.

Her furious glare softened into a blissful smile. “Scholars and generals descended from the heavens, their forms golden and shimmering, to hear her preach about virtue. Not some random incomprehensible nonsense like old Fu, but virtue. Human virtue. Compassion, frugality, humility- what does it mean to live that life out in this dirty world? What does it mean to sacrifice your old age for the young? For a stranger?” Tears started trickling down her old face. “It must have been beautiful. So beautiful.”

She sniffed. Hong and Tian shared a look. Heavenly scholars and generals descending seemed… unlikely… but Heavenly Tribulation was supposed to be almost mythical and it still turned up.

“Congratulations to Senior Sister, or soon to be Direct Disciple, Bai. Did you say the news came with our mail?” Tian asked.

“Oh yeah, it’s in the Mission Hall. We all got too drunk to carry it to the next stop. Well, I’m not drunk but those useless women I’m supposed to supervise are. ‘I don’t want to dig latrines, Senior Sister, I don’t want to break rocks for the paths Senior Sister. I can’t scrub out all these bloodstains, Senior Sister.’ Well who told you to smash their head in with a thirty pound iron mace! Now you scrub, and put your damn back into it, you workshy louse! Nobody wants to work anymore! Bums and scoundrels, the lot of them!”

She sniffed. “I love them so much. So much. Pick up your mail after you drink a few dozen toasts with me. We have to celibate. We have to celeb… celeburatete.” The senior’s diction finally slipped out of her control and she sagged to one side. Tian quickly dragged the shocked Hong away.

“Auntie broke through. She broke through. Senior, Senior, Senior Sister broke through.” Her shoulders were shaking. Tian carefully patted her back. Hong ripped the broad hat off her head, threw it up into a tree and screamed “GO BIG SIS’ BAI! TEN THOUSAND YEARS! TEN THOUSAND YEARS FOR BIG SIS’ BAI!”

The cheers she got back from the Three Steams Convent had the birds scattering in every direction. Everyone there was at least a generation younger than Bai, but that was fine. She was one of theirs, a child who had walked these paths and slept under these eves. Who learned the dao and virtue under the same spreading trees they learned under.

In a time of dark omens, a ray of light can be almost blinding.