Threads 136 Preparations 1

There were more pieces of advice, both from Xuan Shi and from loaned books. Avoid assuming their intentions, clarify her own, cut idioms out of her speech where she could, be observant, and try to decipher body language as well as speech. In the end, it mostly boiled down to being mindful and observant, the same sort of skills she had been working to polish for interacting with other nobles.

The stakes were just higher in this case. It helped to shake off her lingering dislike for the subject.

To that end, she continued to cultivate the Playful Muse’s Rapport art. Its lessons on presentation would be helpful for her upcoming mission, and refining her speech couldn’t hurt. Similarly, she had always intended to continue cultivating the Songseeker’s Ceremony cultivation art when her cultivation had advanced, but now, she had even more reason.

Sitting on a high cliff, meditating upon her cultivation art, Ling Qi could not help but feel a tiny bit of dissatisfaction. She had not ventured out on her own in awhile. She wasn’t seeking songs. Her schedule was too rigid, the needs of Sect and duty, friends and family, used what free time she had.

Of course, she had quite a trip planned, didn’t she? She had plans with both Zhengui and Hanyi coming up. And she had something of an idea, a song that needed writing, for the lost and the hurt and not-quite friends.

One way or another, Ling Qi had a feeling that things were going to be changing. It felt like standing on the precipice of a high tower under the moon without the wind to catch her.

***​

“So, those are the relations between the common visible colors and what they represent. There’s more complicated stuff once you jump off the normal visible spectrum and get into spiritual colors, but you should probably master the easy part first. Any questions?” Sixiang clapped their hands to punctuate the sentence.

Sixiang “sat” on a fallen log, silhouette shimmering under the dappled sunlight. The muse spirit was getting better at projecting images and maintaining them, but a proper manifestation was too tiring still.

Ling Qi leaned back, resting her hands on the warm stone beneath her. She did like this look for the muse. With wider shoulders and a less effeminate face and a little more muscle on their chest, visible through the open robe of shimmering colors, Ling Qi thought that Sixiang was taking quite a few cues from Lin Hai. Sixiang was clearly having fun, going by the number of times the cut and shape of their clothing had changed since the start of the lesson.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure if that fun was being shared. Zhengui lay belly down on the grass beside her, shrunk to only a couple meters long. Zhen had been bobbing his head in time with Sixiang’s speech, and Gui’s gaze had only occasionally wandered to the pile of fresh fruit she had ordered delivered for their lunch. However, despite Zhengui listening intently, she got the distinct sense that his heart wasn’t entirely in it.

His words confirmed it. “Is it really okay for Gui to distract Big Sis like this? Gui is not a baby who will get mad if Sister needs to do other things.”

Ling Qi shared a look with Sixiang before looking back to Zhengui. “Zhengui, we planned this out ages ago. I don’t have anything else I need to be doing right now.” Well, observing Sixiang’s speaking was technically part of cultivating her Playful Muse’s Rapport art, but that was just being efficient.

“I, Zhen, think that simple Gui is not speaking well,” Zhen hissed. “Should Sister and I not be training? War is at the Sect.”

Zhengui had done well, more than that really, in the last mission. He had done everything that she could have expected of him, and she had thought he was satisfied with his performance.

“Do you really think being stronger would have helped much back there?” Sixiang asked, resting their chin on their hands. “Realistically stronger, I mean.”

Zhen flicked his tongue irritably but didn’t respond.

“I think focusing wholly on fighting is a mistake,” Ling Qi said, having taken the chance to assemble her thoughts. “I was helping Mother with her cultivation earlier today. She’s not going to be able to fight though. Does that make that a mistake, Zhengui?”

Outside of some extreme circumstances, Ling Qingge was never going to have the temperament for combat. But Ling Qi didn’t resent spending time with her in the garden, working through the simple physical exercises of her chosen cultivation art, even if Ling Qi had mastered the thing in a few days. Mother was advancing slowly, but she was advancing, and Ling Qi thought she might reach gold physique by the end of the year, securing her from the sort of illnesses that could take mortals.

“Gui doesn’t think so,” her little brother said after a moment. “Is playing around really okay?”

“Don’t think of it as playing around. Think of it as taking care of yourself,” Sixiang said. “If all you do is fight, then what are you going to do when the enemies are gone? There has to be more to you than violence.”

“I agree,” Ling Qi said, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers. She didn’t think she would much care to live that way. Her memory wandered back to the court and the woman she had seen at the foot of Shenhua’s throne with eyes as sharp as a blade. That was what someone who had nothing but violence looked like. She didn’t think she wanted to ever see that in the mirror.

“C’mon, Zhengui, any questions about what Sixiang actually said?” she asked, leaning over to pat him on the shell.

“Um, Gui does not see all of the colors, but Zhen does, so it should be fine,” he responded, leaning into her touch.

“Hmph, I, Zhen have understood the lesson,” he said haughtily. Ling Qi saw the slight hopeful tilt of his head though.

Ling Qi flicked him a beast core. He snapped it out of the air with a happy hiss.

“Well, in that case, we should probably move on.” Sixiang chuckled as Gui gave Ling Qi a pleading look. She flicked him a core too. “Next thing we need to talk about is the theme.”

“Theme?” Zhen asked. “Like Sister’s songs?”

Sixiang nodded. “Right. Song or painting or poem, you gotta think about what you’re trying to say with your project. It’s fine to be spontaneous in execution, great even, but you have to have a vision, a goal in mind, or you’re just gonna end up with a mess.”

“Ah, Gui was just trying to make something pretty before, but that isn’t right,” Gui muttered.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“You have to be a little more specific than that,” Ling Qi said wryly.

“So, what do you want your art to say?” Sixiang asked, leaning forward.

Ling Qi followed up. “What do you want people who see our garden to feel?”

Surprisingly, it was Zhen who answered her question.

“It should be a bright place where bad things burn away. No one appreciates pretty things when they are afraid,” Zhen said.

“I think we both know some people who would disagree,” Sixiang said, amused, leaning back on the rock.

“Gui thinks Zhen isn’t wrong. Zhen and Gui are not them,” Gui replied. “Even if a garden isn’t safe, it should be bright.”

Ling Qi let out a thoughtful hum. She wasn’t typically one for brightness, but… moonlight reflecting off ice, the first rays of dawn on a late winter morning, these things were not wholly outside of her repertoire.

“Hmph. The work of I, Zhen, should inspire awe, not fear,” his other half hissed.

“Zhen just likes flashy things,” Gui grumbled. “Even if people are a little afraid, they still respect Gui.”

Ling Qi cocked her head to the side as they bickered. What were they talking about? She recalled then a little statuette in the garden shrine and offerings made at a village in the mountains. “Zhengui, have you still been receiving offerings?”

“Only a little,” said Gui.