Chapter 6- Making Human Noises, Spotting Immortal Traps

The scroll was written in a deceptively academic style- seemingly dry and clinical, but laced with hidden traps for the unwary reader. Tian would never want to be a scholar, but between studying medical texts, the nakedly propagandic history texts and Grandpa’s heckling, he had honed a few basic instincts. The most crucial of which was this- “What is the author choosing to write about, and what are they leaving out?”

The eye of history couldn’t be focusing everywhere all at once, right? And two plus two would always equal four, unless you found out there was an extra three that had been swept under the rug before the final tally was made. Tian quickly noticed the same four provinces kept being referenced, certain nobles and bureaucrats featuring prominently, and seemingly neutral phrases like “preferring careful deliberation to quick action” or “the regular farm income was considered more important than mitigating the risk of a catastrophic loss” that guided the reader to a distinctly one-sided conclusion.

Disasters could be mitigated by proper advanced planning and decisive leadership, and were often caused by a failure to invest in systemic mitigation methods. The failure to invest was almost always because the methods were usually some combination of inconvenient, expensive, laborious, and people had a harder time noticing things that didn’t happen than things that did.

Elder Feng was making a point by giving this scroll to Tian. He just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“The conclusions seem reasonable, but without anything else to check them against, the scroll can’t be trusted.” Tian muttered.

Correct.

“Is he? Correct, I mean?” Tian didn’t vocalize that part. He tended to assume anything said or done even vaguely in the vicinity of a Heavenly Person cultivator would be observed.

I can’t answer that… beyond reminding you that no conclusion can exceed the accuracy of its premise.

Ah. Tian went back over the start of the scroll, trying to find the flaw. It all sounded pretty reasonable- it was possible to make choices that were correct in one regard but lead to disastrous consequences. An irrigation system that led to the slow buildup of salt in the soil, turning fertile land barren. Failing to quickly suppress banditry in one province led to severe famine in another when grain couldn’t be transported in time to cover localized crop failure. Which ironically resulted in more bandits, creating a cascading problem that only ended after a brutal winter and an even more brutal suppression expedition from the capital.

What was he missing? Like so many of these scrolls, it was entirely focused on mortal affairs. Presumably, the cultivators were above all such petty problems. Tian might not be able to divert a river with the wave of his hand, but he’d bet some of the Heavenly People he had met could. Cultivators had their own problems. The hand that could divert a river could divert the head clean off your shoulders and into a thin film on a wall three towns over.

He drummed his fingers on the desk, then looked over his notes. Nothing jumped out. He re-read the anecdote about the Magistrate of White Peak Town. The Magistrate opened the grain storehouse to relieve a famine, not realizing that improper storage had resulted in the grains becoming infected with disease. The tainted grains made thousands, then hundreds of thousands, sick. Moving to relieve the famine hadn’t been wrong, exactly. It was just mismanagement months and years before the crucial event that led to disaster. The premise seemed rock solid.

Tian had to shake his head reading it. A few simple preservation talismans, replaced no more than annually, would have ensured that never happened. Indeed, the warehouses at Depot Four kept enormous boxes of such talismans right by the doors. Practically everything that came in got one. They were apparently very cheap and dirt simple to make. Cultivators weren’t like mortals who had to rely on salt for food preservation.

He put his brush down and tidied up. Maybe it would become clear when he talked to the others. He reached the door before he finally managed to spot the blindingly obvious.

Tian had the tea set out and the kettle nicely warmed when the others trickled in. They were somewhat hard to see behind his various history books. His brothers had insisted on him bringing lots of reading material to the Wasteland, and he had never gotten rid of them.

“I don’t think that’s the scroll the Elder gave you, Brother Tian.” Brother Wang settled into his chair with a small smile.

“I’m checking my recollection of a few matters.”

“Oh? With how much you complain about those books, I’d have thought you would throw them in the midden as soon as you could stage an accident.” Hong sauntered in and sprawled in one of the chairs and gently closed her eyes.

“I have been tempted, but the brothers thoroughly chewed me out the one time I got irritated enough to throw a book at the wall. I wound up feeling so bad afterwards, I tend to treat them like they were made of glass.” Tian rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Throwing books in the library is not a bannable offence, you will be happy to know. We tried to institute such a rule, but despite the Pavilion Master’s righteous, logical, arguments, the Elders decided flogging was a sufficient deterrent and an additional ban was redundant.”

Sister Su wheeled herself in. Tian had cleared a space for her in line with the door, so she rolled directly up to the little table in the middle of the room and set a board across the arm rests of her chair. Paper, brush, and ink were laid out, as was her scroll and a tiny tray clearly intended for the tea and snacks.

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“Odd. One would imagine that since it was redundant, there would be no harm by permitting it either.” Brother Wong’s smile would have scared a ghost. Tian silently marked the big man as another member of Sister Su’s “There is no kill like overkill” faction.

“Just so.”

“I have a Black Dragon Tea from Six Mountains that seems rather good. Will that suit everyone?” Tian looked around and, seeing no objections, got to serving.

“I brought sunflower seeds and haw flakes. If we are still hungry later, I have some mung bean cakes.” Wang laid out a couple of bowls.

“Is this what it feels like to be a freeloader? It’s… it’s so nice.” Hong groaned and settled a little deeper into her chair.

“You are bringing the tea next time.” Tian snorted at her, and got an idle wave in return.

“Old friends?” Brother Wang popped a few seeds into his mouth.

“Yes. I nearly murdered her when she was eleven and once I understood she preferred to live with her infirmities, we became friends.” Tian nodded and carefully added hot water as Wang seemed to choke on his seeds.

Hong just groaned. “It was a spar. Brother Zihao has an allergy to allegory and is malicious towards metaphors. Put another way, he tends to take posturing and insults both literally and seriously.”