Threads 500-Roots 4

Sixiang’s voice died down. They turned back to Ling Qi.

“Did I?” Shu Yue asked. “I am the Faceless Killer, the Laughter of the Forgotten, the Weeping Wraith. I am the hands that crush the throats of those whose victims cannot reach them. Do you think these hands are clean of blood that could be called innocent? You go to war soon, student. Do you childishly imagine all of those you slay and hurt will be villains?”

Ling Qi grimaced. Those she fought would be soldiers fighting for a realm that had aided raiders against them, who had sunk whole blocks of a town into poison-choked mist, and who had just weeks ago attempted to spread a plague through the Central Valley. But she knew better than to think that only soldiers suffered where cultivators fought.

“Even if you did not intend for me to refuse you, that is what will happen,” Ling Qi said. “I will find phantoms to practice with on my own, such as beasts or hostile nightmares in my expeditions.”

“A student who refuses lesson plans is not worth a teacher’s time.”

“So be it,” Ling Qi replied stubbornly. Even if this were not a test, she would refuse, and she knew a cultivator of Shu Yue’s caliber could see the honest truth of that.

“Hah! I would have let you do harm.”

The words hung in the air.

“A test that is impossible to fail is worthless,” Shu Yue ground on. “I would only have stopped you short of permanently maiming a mortal. If you had failed, the victim would have suffered for it. Because these arts are cruel, and if you integrate them without understanding their cruelty, it will taint you in turn.”

Sixiang still glowered at them, but half turning, they looked at Ling Qi’s expression and sighed.

“I thank you, teacher, for the lesson.”

Ling Qi stood up, and she looked at the crouching cultivator in the eye. Shu Yue regarded her with a hard gaze, and Ling Qi felt the elder cultivator’s attention piercing through her. It felt like being a gem scrutinized for flaws under a jeweler’s glass.

“Such a difficult student. You are not meant to detect the hidden test before it is fully presented.” Shu Yue huffed. It was a raspy sound, like dead leaves scraping over each other. “But your resolve was true.”

“It deflates some of the drama, but even if it cost me further lessons, I would not deliberately hurt an involved person just for a training exercise. Not purposely.”

“And that is why you pass regardless.”

“Should I not still practice on actual phantoms?” Ling Qi asked.

“If you wish, but it need not be here. In truth, you shall get as much benefit from the mental exercise of mapping out your manipulations while observing a target. I cannot give you true practice at affecting a peer. Given your resolve, you should seek volunteers from among your companions for that.”

The spars with her fellow retainers could serve that purpose. She could also arrange training exercises with the soldiers of Shenglu, green as they were. Was that really volunteering?

She shook her head. Today was not one for meditating on the concept of consent and its relation to choice. That was probably a whole meditation session and dive into the depths of the mind on its own, and she did not have the energy for that now.

Sixiang slung an arm around her shoulder, and gave her a squeeze. It was improper, but she really didn’t care for propriety at the moment. She reached up to clasp Sixiang’s shoulder as well while they turned for the exit of this place. Shu Yue rose to follow them.

As the door opened, Ling Qi caught the scent of roses. Out there in the dim, cramped streets, a woman sat by a fountain that had not been there before. It was humble and made of simple stone. A trickle of cloudy grey water fell into the rippling basin below.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Diao Linqin was still clad in her wedding dress, and radiance crawled along its hems, searing even the idea that the filth of this place could touch her.

“You are too light a taskmaster, Shu Yue,” Diao Linqin chided.

“I did not think the Lady Diao would have a mote of attention to spare, this night of all nights,” Shu Yue deflected.

“Only because we are in the final stages of ceremony.” Diao Linqin turned from her contemplation of the twisted nightmare facsimile of the rootways which stretched out before her.