v5c70: The Torch Bearers

Zang Shenhe sat atop the fortress of Fa Ram in the early morning sun, deep in meditation. Her foundation was slowly stabilizing as she internalized the revelations she had received about the past of her Sect and set upon a new path. It would be a slow process to rebuild herself and her cultivation… but rebuild it she would.

It was fortunate that Master Rou had given them a week—for his hospitality was unparalleled. Everyone was recovering at a swift rate, thanks to the gifts he had lavished upon them. Gold Grade Rice and some unknown type of pickle saturated with Qi made the task much easier than it should have been.

Today she spent her time contemplating the knowledge she had gained during the meeting between Shen Yu, the Cloudy Sword Sect, the Soaring Heaven’s Isle Sect, and the Imperial Herald.

The meeting had been trying. It had taken all her power to appear unmoved by the weight of the elder cultivators’ gazes… yet all her might was only equal to a mortal and a man barely into his twenties. It had been quite a shock to learn just how old “Master Rou” truly was. Some part of her wanted to be angry that one so young had had the gall to command them.

Yet in the end, did it really change anything? His cultivation was superior to hers, and he was only mildly injured from a battle that would have killed her. He had earned the right to command them. He was no old monster. He was a young man on a meteoric rise—so meteoric he had left the Cloudy Sword Sect yet they maintained good relations with him. It was obvious why, and it was not because Elder Shou, a master of Spiritual Herb cultivation, wished to trade notes and pointers with him.

With such a monster as his grandfather, was there any question?

He still had the might to enforce his commandments if they had decided to test him. He was affiliated with the Cloudy Sword Sect… and everything they had done because of that misunderstanding had been their best course of action.

Zang Shenhe opened her eyes and glanced down at the item she held within her hand, the boon she had gotten for being a part of that meeting and for her actions against their enemies. She had not been found wanting.

“Zang Shenhe, by your actions you have done a service to our Empire,” the Imperial Herald had declared before he left upon Lady Minyan’s ship. “This humble servant of His Imperial Majesty also knows that your sect has fallen upon hard times—so We shall grant unto you this.”

“This pendant signifies His Majesty’s favour. Time is the most valuable thing We can grant you—time where those that are your foes will hesitate from striking you. The provincials know that their antics are tolerated because Our eyes are elsewhere. With this, all shall know Our eyes are upon you. The Shrouded Mountain Sect, for its all faults, has in the past discharged its duties without fail. Our subjects were safe. Our armies unmolested. Our trade, prosperous. And so We were content with your sect’s stewardship. Now, We give you an opportunity to continue this stewardship. But Zang Shenhe, know this well. Should your righteousness waver, should We find you wanting…. Our gaze will turn elsewhere.”

The implied threat made her swallow.

“I shall not fail His Imperial Majesty,” Shenhe had replied, her bow near to kowtowing.

“Another servant of the Empire shall arrive at your sect once Our business is done, bearing rewards for meritorious deeds. See that you are ready to receive them.”

With that, the masked man had gone, leaving only the pendant as a trace of his passing.

Shenhe stared at it.

“Quite a heavy burden that is,” a voice said from her shoulder. Nezan was sitting there, the fox casually licking his paw. He was doing that more and more lately, perching upon her shoulder. Shenhe didn’t entirely mind it. His fur was soft against her cheek, and his presence was oddly comforting.

“From the precipice of the abyss, salvation,” Shenhe replied, before sighing. “If there’s still anything left of the Sect to save.”

Nezan raised an eyebrow at her words, before he licked the side of her face. “Resolve, young one. Resolve.”

Shenhe grimaced at the words. The weight upon her shoulders was great, nearly crushing, but it was something she had to endure. For herself. For her family.

And for her disciples.

Those that had chosen to follow her.

Shenhe rose to her feet and looked out over the courtyard, where the disciples were beginning to train and meditate again.

There, her eyes locked on two disciples in particular. Yesterday, Yingwen and Fenxian had stayed in Master Rou’s home. She had approached them to see where their hearts lay.

“What do you need of us, Elder Shenhe?” Yingwen had replied, sinking down to one knee.

Fenxian had just looked confused. “When did we ever leave?” the other man had asked.

Shenhe was ever grateful for their loyalty.

Shenhe took a breath and straightened her back, casting aside the doubts. “Yes, you are right. Acting like that is unbecoming, especially when there are still disciples who are counting on me.”

“Indeed,” Nezan said. “Not a bad bunch. But Shenhe, I do not come for just a social call—Cai Xiulan, Grand Marshal of the Azure Hills, has invited you to tea.”

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Shenhe nodded. She had asked the other woman for a meeting after she had found out about her position—the leader of an alliance of sects that spanned the entire Azure Hills.

Many would have laughed at the thought. A nobody, from the Azure Hills no less, giving her advice?

Yet Master Rou had recommended her, so only a fool would dismiss the woman.

“Thank you, Nezan,” Shenhe replied. She girded herself for the coming battle the best she could. This was the realm of politics, and their war would be with words. Such a powerful woman would surely exact a toll for her advice.

Shenhe set out to Master Rou’s house, where she was greeted by Pi Pa, the woman bowing politely and directing Shenhe to a well-lit sitting room.

“Zang Shenhe greets the Grand Marshal,” Shenhe intoned when she entered, clasping her hands and bowing politely. The other woman returned the formal greeting, clasping her hands in the gesture of respect.