Threads 290 Construction 3

It was a few hours later, the sun having passed its zenith, when Ling Qi made her way out, traveling up and over the switchback path that led toward the top of the severed mountain. It was unpleasant. The qi in the air was still disturbed and humming, the mountain all but emanating indignation and wrath but also the fear of a being wholly cowed. Ling Qi could sense the efforts being made to calm the local spirits though, so the mountain’s feelings didn’t worry her.

On the newly formed plateau, there were many workers, turning the cloven surface into something more natural. The efforts were mostly mundane. with many workers were hauling bags or wagons of soil and grass seed, but there were scattered individuals shaping the cut stone, transforming the exposed rock into a material that would endure the elements and hold soil.

Her target wasn’t in the general work crews this time, but in the rising tower of cut white stone and polished wood. It was an observatory, she had been told, a place to study the sky and the threats beyond. It had been arranged for by the Duchess to study the demon lights they had seen in the sky on their journey south. Around it, the beginnings of a fine garden were being cultivated, and she could see the bases of other buildings. The Meng had chosen this location and lobbied the Duchess for attachment to the observatory, and their request had been granted.

As Ling Qi fluttered down from the sky, gown billowing out in the wind, she was greeted by one of the pair standing near the entrance of the incomplete observatory.

“Lady Ling, you are in fine form this day,” Meng Dan greeted as she touched down. “You’ve tried a new pattern for your mantle, I see.”

Ling Qi reached up, brushing the pale blue fur trim at her neck. She’d shaped her mantle into a pale, diaphanous cloak of nearly transparent silk with a touch of glittering thread that made her seem partially shrouded in snow.

“It’s good to give her some practice,” Ling Qi said, referring to her slowly awakening gown. “And even one such as I like to try new things now and then.”

“You do indeed,” Meng Dan said, his eyes sparkled with humor, and Ling Qi smiled back, acknowledging the understatement.

“You managed to secure yourself as a representative then?”

“I did, through prior experience and some backing. And I admit, it helped that a number of candidates stormed out, refusing to countenance the entire matter.”

Ling Qi winced. She had heard that a faction of the Meng clan were incredibly upset by some of her recent statements. She had already committed to helping Meng Diu and Meng Dan’s group though.

“And who is this?” she asked, politely turning to the other person present, a gangly, bookish man in dark blue robes. He had a sleepless look to him, which was strange given that she sensed he was in the fourth realm.

“Baroness Ling wounds me,” he said tiredly, running a hand through his hair and knocking his minister’s cap askew.

<Astronomer Wu,> Sixiang whispered.

Ling Qi bowed in apology as a brief burst of memory replayed behind her eyes. This was the astronomer at court, who’d verified some of their claims. “My deepest apologies, Astronomer Wu. Her Grace tends to overwhelm other impressions.”

“She does,” Wu said. “Please raise your head. I am only a scholar after all.”

Ling Qi rose. He turned to look at Meng Dan.

“Let me leave you to your next appointment then, Sir Meng. I’ve enjoyed our conversation, but I really must get back to work as well.” The astronomer gestured respectfully and bowed himself.

“Of course. I do wish you good fortune in attuning and aligning the lenses tonight, Astronomer,” Meng Dan said politely.

“Baroness, if you or Lady Cai would care to read this one’s observations on the celestial phenomena in the south, please just set an appointment,” he added, turning to her and bowing again.

“Thank you for your hard work, Astronomer Wu.”

With that, the older man left. The two of them waited a polite beat for him to disappear inside the observatory before continuing.

“I must inform you that I am not alone here,” Meng Dan said.

Ling Qi sighed. “Who?”

“An uncle of mine, one who is aligned to the clan head’s views. He is not wholly unsympathetic to grandmother though. I will, however, have to run any serious agreement through him.”

“I understand,” Ling Qi said unhappily. It was an obstacle, but not an unexpected one. “How much obstruction do you think there will be?”

“That is the interesting question.” Meng Dan steepled his fingers together. “Uncle Deming is a principled man. In many ways, he was the compromise candidate.”

Ling Qi crossed her arms, considering this. “And what are his principles?”

“That there is more power in words than blades. That we, the Meng, should be teachers and keepers of history. He is a deeply melancholy man, stemming from his belief that our ways can only fade, or at best, hold in the heartlands. It is my grandmother’s belief that he might be swayed to our views if it can be shown that the spirit speaking methods and principles of the Dreaming Way can still find purchase in today’s world.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Ling Qi frowned. “Merely asking after those beliefs would be taken as flattery alone.”

“Yes,” Meng Dan agreed. “Unless you can show you have some real interest already?”

Ling Qi thought of a horned skeleton, pierced and bound to a pillar of stone in a jail of broken time. “Maybe.”

“You did imply before that you might have found something,” Meng Dan offered. “But leaving that aside, he is not against this effort in principle. Neither is the clan head. Do understand that.”

“They aren’t? I understand that the majority of your clan is very isolationist.”

“They are, but they are also very traditional. And thanks to the tapestry you sold to us, whose authenticity is now beyond question, it cannot be argued easily that diplomacy with these folk is untraditional.”