v4 c38: Days on the Shrouded Mountain

On the Shrouded Mountain, most days passed like any other.

 

The stone had seen more sunrises than could be counted. The mists had shrouded the peak since before recorded history.

 

The mountain was eternal.

 

The cultivators who lived upon it sought the same eternity.

 

The sun rose. The disciples awoke as they had done for thousands of years. The trod footpaths a million feet had trod on before. They passed the work of generations that still looked brand new.

 

The Outer Sect Members attended to their tasks, and those who could, diligently cultivated. The faces changed as they rose and fell to time’s endless grind. All the while they aped the actions of people whose bones had long since turned to dust.

 

They even rested the same; going out into the city that surrounded the mountain, as the generations before had done, and the generations after would do as well.

 

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The pub at the foot of the mountain was loud, well lit, and well patroned. Comely serving girls danced between the tables, almost gliding in a display of skill that was quite good… for mortals. It would be the bare minimum of service the not so mortal clientele of this establishment tolerated.

 

It was a place of fine food, fine wine, and cultivators. A popular haunt of members of the Shrouded Mountain Sect, it played host to its thousands of Disciples.

 

“—and then the fucker just handed me his clothes! Me!” Tan Men of the Artifact Pavilion howled as he downed another cup of rice wine.

 

“That’s rough, buddy,” Tan Men’s drinking companion, Niren, commiserated as he poured Tan Men another cup. The Artifact Pavilion member smiled at the man’s generosity. They had met when the Outer Disciple had discovered him struggling with all the cauldrons he had been tasked with cleaning, and Niren had given him a hand with the task. They’d hit it off, and Niren had invited Tan Men to drink.

 

Tan Men never missed an opportunity to drink, especially when his good Junior was kind enough to be buying.

 

“Could be worse though. You could be a member of the Che family. Stuck in the Outer Sect or amongst the dregs of the Fulmination Squadron.”

 

Tan Men laughed, his cheeks red. “Yeah, I could be like that one fool who tried to get into the Artifact Pavilion! Fool had his own formation explode in his face!”

 

Niren laughed along with him at the fool’s misfortune. “I even heard the damn fool whining about how he was sabotaged, instead of just accepting the fact that he was trash. Poor fool is desperate if he thinks he can just blame a Pavillion Master!”

 

Tan Men laughed harder. “Well…” Then he leaned in. “I wouldn’t put it past our Ice Lady.”

 

His drinking buddy blinked, raised an eyebrow, and poured Tan Men another drink. “The hell did he do?”

 

Tan Men snorted then glanced around, and after seeing nobody of importance he leaned in and lowered his voice. “You didn’t hear this from me, but some people say that Master Yuha’s lover used to be of that clan, and then he went and slept with a fox—so she has it out for the entire bloodline… and then she changed to be on the other side, you know what I’m sayin?” he asked, making two circles with his fingers and bumping them together.

 

“Really?” his companion demanded.

 

“That’s what they say! But keep your lips shut if you want to keep them!”

 

Niren nodded. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell a soul—hey miss! Get us another round!”

 

Niren caught the attention of a beautiful serving girl, who smiled and bowed as he waved coins in front of her. She enthusiastically went to fulfill their order. Which is why this place was the best. The girls were enthusiastic! He wondered why in some of the other places they looked worried. They were the Heroes of the Shrouded Mountain Sect! What would the people have to fear from them?

 

“Thanks, brother!” Tan Men said, clapping his friend on the back. “Now, where was I… right, that bastard!”

 

Niren sat back to listen, pouring more wine. The guy could certainly hold his drink! But it was good. That meant he was listening with all ears to Tan men’s story of woe, and giving it proper consideration like a good junior. What a swell guy, Niren

 

Tan Men would later wake up in his room with only memories of a fun night. It was blurred, but the best nights were the ones one couldn’t remember..

 

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In the Inner Sect, the timeless feeling that the Shrouded Mountain cultivated was amplified.

 

The wards did not allow snow to touch the ground. The wind was as silent as an owl’s wings. The worldly failed to penetrate… save for the opulence of the mansions. But even these gold inlays and jeweled decorations, used so negligently, were a part of the timelessness. Enclosed within the vast mansions, the Disciples treated all things as transient. All that mattered was the next day of cultivation, of challenging the Heavens.

 

This was the nature of the Sects, closed off and detached from the concerns of the mortal world. Above it, and beyond it.

 

They seemed as far away as the Heavens the cultivators tried to reach.

 

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The air in the Medical Pavilion of the Shrouded Mountain Sect was filled with intent. Every disciple had grim looks upon their faces as they stood outside the door to Master Lishu’s office.

 

For today was the day that they were sure to lose something precious.

 

The atmosphere was that of a funeral, mournful, as they waited. Some patiently, and some gnawing at their fingernails with worry—an uncouth action for those of their cultivation level.

 

Finally, however, after an hour the door opened and Hong Ri Zu strode out, a small smile on her face. She paused, clearly surprised, as she took in the gathered crowd outside the door. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on when she was interrupted.

 

“Did you pass?” Hutao demanded, eyes wide.

 

Ri Zu smiled and pulled out the papers, displaying the perfect score upon the sheets.

 

The doctors took one look at it and started wailing.

 

“Our wonderful assistant!” Yuanzi cried.

 

“Now, I guess things are going to go back to normal,” Kuang Dan sobbed.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

 

“Why?! Why have the heavens forsaken me?!” a third demanded. “Who’s going to brew my tea?!”

 

Ri Zu tilted her head, confused at their panic. “Ri Zu already started training her successors—she got permission from Master Lishu to get more assistants from the Mountain Pavilion, and more mortals. This last week she has been training them. They still need a bit more work but—eep!”

 

Ri Zu was practically tackled by her now-fellow doctors.

 

The members of the Shrouded Mountain Sect’s Medical Pavilion lifted their saviour upon their shoulders and cheered her name, marching a full circuit around the Pavilion..

 

Master Lishu looked upon them all with a single raised eyebrow, and then shook his head.

 

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And yet, despite their attempts at eternity, time did pass.

 

The long summer of the valleys was slowly waning. The quality and appearance of the sunlight shifted. The days were still warm and hot, but the cold bite of the northern winds started to make itself known. Even through the wards to the Shrouded Mountain it leaked through, and all could feel the power of the world’s cycles—its force greater than what any cultivator could bring to bear.

 

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Qi swirled in controlled motions in the air as Fat Han focused his intent. The formation was at a critical stage. The last time, at the Artifact Pavilion, his formation had exploded at this point.

 

He felt one last twinge of anxiety surge in his guts as the seconds seemed to stretch on.

 

This time, however, there was nothing.

 

The formation was completed. His Qi surged into the fine silver needles, empowering them, stretching them, and granting them a tiny, artificial soul.

 

It was nothing like what a true Master could create… but this wasn’t meant for true Masters. It was meant to improve the quality of basic things, like swords for the Outer Sect members. It was an edge, nothing more; an accelerated version of a natural process of a piece of equipment slowly gaining its own soul over hundreds of years of use.

 

The needles, which had been floating in the air, slowly came back down and laid themselves to rest on the silk cloth that had been arranged beneath them.

 

Fat Han looked closely at them. Everything had succeeded. The formation was perfect. It was bittersweet to know he would have succeeded back then if only someone had not purposefully failed him.

 

The silence was broken by Yushang clapping enthusiastically, stars in her eyes.

 

“Great Job, Brother Han!” she cheered, no guile, spite, or veiled insult in her cheery words as she rushed forwards to examine the needles. Fan sighed, half irritated and half thankful for her praise.

 

“Yes, yes. I am supremely skilled,” he said with a sigh. Biren, one of his other four spectators, clapped Han on the back. Han smiled at his roommate’s silent show of support.

 

“Thank you for allowing us to witness your formation, Fat Han. It has proven to be enlightening,” Bi De intoned. His Senior Brother, who had encouraged him, and given him many pointers, inclined his head to Fat Han. Beside him sat Ri Zu, both sitting just slightly too close together to be ‘proper’.