Chapter 12 — Liuhe Completion

The talismans themselves were small rectangular strips of yellow paper with ink characters Lin Che couldn’t read. It wasn’t that he was illiterate, to the best of his knowledge, but more that looking at the words gave him a minor headache which wasn’t worth the hassle of fighting to read a couple of lines. Shen Yue had written them in her study with a brush she’d produced from one of the drawers in her desk, and he was to fold a talisman and tuck it in his wallet every morning before work.

He’d asked how they worked, but she didn’t elaborate much.

“They mask the signature slightly,” she said. “Not by much, but more than enough for your current output and then some.”

He’d taken the talismans and put one in his wallet and thought no more about it.

That had been on Tuesday. By Friday, he had got used to this routine of grabbing a talisman from the study before work so that he could passively circulate on the metro and in the office. He circulated through morning briefings and data validation tasks, and throughout lunch at his desk.

Pang Wei had even commented twice this week that Lin Che seemed much calmer. He didn’t think he had a reputation for being irritable, but that must have been the implication there. Lin Che simply said that he was trying a new herbal tea to help get him through the long days, to which Pang Wei promptly asked for a brand name, causing Lin Che to scurry away from that conversation as soon as possible.

His sticking point was still the fourth harmony: he could hold the passive circulation for much longer stretches now — stretches of twenty, thirty seconds before the awareness collapsed back into attention, but the transition was still effortful rather than natural. He understood, in abstract, what the man in the video had meant about it accumulating on its own, and he was simply not yet at the point where it had accumulated sufficiently.

He had assumed he would have been over the fourth harmony by now, as passive circulation was intended to be one of the outcomes of achieving it, but that wasn’t the case for him. Just thinking about actively acting passively without noticing it did his head in — it was utter contradiction, after all.

***

On Saturday morning, Shen Yue knocked twice on his bedroom door at nine and told him to get dressed. He came out to find her already in her coat, bag over her shoulder, and keys in hand.

“Pharmacy,” she said. “I need to pick up something, and Hu Baolin should take a look at where you are with the method.”

“I was going to practice this morning.”

“You can practice after,” she said, shooting him down, whilst simultaneously producing a talisman from her bag and sticking it on Lin Che’s forehead. “We’re leaving.”

***

The bell above the pharmacy door rang as the couple entered. Hu Baolin was, naturally, behind the counter, frozen in that position as he tended to be. In each and every loop, he appeared in the same place and posture, which, given how time loops tend to work, was not surprising whatsoever. Still, to Lin Che, he always imagined Hu Baolin as you would a video game merchant with the same voice lines and actions always found in the same location regardless of time of day.

“Miss Shen,” greeted Hu Baolin. “And Mr Lin, as well.”

Hu Baolin immediately jumped out of his seat, clearly glad he was free from his boredom, and moved to one corner of the room to place various herbs in a paper bag. He then walked over to Shen Yue, completely disregarding her husband, and placed it in her hands. “Already paid for.”

“Thank you,” said Shen Yue, eyes scanning the various herbs scattered around the room. “I have one more request, if you will.”

“Certainly, anything for Miss Shen,” he grinned back, his pupils transforming into dollar signs.

“My husband here has been practising the Liuhe method, but the fourth harmony is giving him some resistance,” she said. “I thought you might be able to help with the bottleneck.”

Hu Baolin studied Lin Che for a moment and scratched his chin. Shen Yue reached her hands in Lin Che’s pocket and took his wallet, causing Hu Baolin’s eyes to light up in understanding.

“Come here,” he said, and gestured for Lin Che to approach the counter.

Lin Che came forward, and Hu Baolin reached across and placed two fingers at the inside of his wrist, the way you’d take the radial pulse, except he was feeling for something else.

“Your consolidation points are all open,” Hu Baolin said, half interested. “Third harmony is clean.” He was quiet for a moment. “How long have you been practising?”

“Since last Saturday,” said Lin Che.

Hu Baolin removed his fingers and looked at Shen Yue. “One week?”

“I know,” she said.

“Third harmony in one week.”

“I know,” she said again.

Hu Baolin looked back at Lin Che with an expression that turned more into an assessment, and this time with complete interest.

“You must have made significant progress into the fourth harmony,” he began. “Since you were that fool broadcasting his Qi signature for the world to see on Monday… I assumed it was a newcomer without backing.”

Lin Che chose not to confirm or deny this.

“It was him,” said Shen Yue.

Hu Baolin exhaled through his nose in slight laughter. “Well,” he said, “at least the signature is accounted for. There were one or two people who noticed it, but nothing that should concern you.”

“Who?” asked Shen Yue before Lin Che could chime into the conversation that was all about him.

“Old Wen mentioned it, but no one is really concerned about a low stage Qi signature. You don’t need a beware of dog sign for a home with a pug, after all.” He paused. “Still, an unaffiliated signature in this district is the kind of thing that raises questions. Particularly at the moment.”

“He’s affiliated,” said Shen Yue. “He’s family.”

“I know that, and you know that, but the question is: who else knows?”

A pause.

“I have a suggestion,” said Hu Baolin.

***

The suggestion, as it turned out, was the pharmacy.

“Weekends,” Hu Baolin said. “A few hours, and nothing particularly demanding. Heaven knows I need a hand with organisation and the odd delivery. The point is to have presence: if you’re here, you’re known. People who come through this shop are the people who matter in this district, so you’ll become a familiar face.”

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Lin Che opened his mouth—

“He has a job,” said Shen Yue.

“Weekends,” Hu Baolin repeated. “I’m not asking for the week.”

Lin Che had been following this conversation with the feeling of someone watching two people negotiate the terms of a lease on a property he was currently living in. “I don’t mind,” he eventually managed to get in.

Both of them looked at him.

“I mean, if it helps. I’d like to learn more about it anyway, you know, how the cultivation world works.”

Hu Baolin and Shen Yue exchanged a glance of understanding as the deal between the two of them came to a close.

“Good,” he said, as he picked up a small brown bottle from the shelf behind him. He set it on the counter directly in front of Lin Che. “For the bottleneck: three drops in warm water this evening before you practice. Don’t take more than three.”

“What does it do?” asked Lin Che.

“It relaxes the threshold between active and passive awareness. If you use any more than three drops, it’ll act as a tranquiliser, so don’t do that. Or do it; I’m not your doctor. Regardless, you’ve been trying to let go of the attention and this makes the letting go easier.” He slid the bottle across the counter. “It wears off in a few hours, so don’t get dependent on it, and don’t get addicted either. Think of it as training wheels.”

“How much—”

“A gift,” said Hu Baolin, already moving back into his original position. “Consider it a welcome to the neighbourhood.”

***

They walked home with the prescription bag and the brown bottle. The morning was cool and bright and the slow rise of the weekend meant the streets were not too busy with people.