Epilogue II- Soft Rice is the Tastiest

Disciple Shu Xiaoling was a very suitable sort of girl, in Sectmaster Ping’s opinion. She was neither too old nor too young, pretty but not too pretty, diligent and attentive yet retaining youthful liveliness and spontaneity. Her cultivation, at Level Seven, was neither too high nor too low. She came from a middling sort of family with long ties to the Bamboo Medicine Hut, respectable without being influential. She was a capable spiritual gardiner, given her limited level and experience, and knew some methods the sect didn’t make public without actually knowing any of the core secrets. Best of all, she had a decent little foundation in the Art of Wind and Water- famed for being powerful and subtle, while lacking almost any offensive capability.

Just right for selling as a concubine.

Shu would be a nice extra to seal the deal on selling the sect and securing the best terms for everyone involved. Not a marriage alliance, exactly, but it would build some closeness and fondness. Since all they had were soft methods, it was worthwhile. They certainly couldn’t survive on their own. The pressure was already unendurable, and with the core of the Ancient Crane Mountain sealed away, the remnants couldn’t possibly keep predators away from his Bamboo Medicine Hut.

Selling the sect, coming in under a new hegemon, was regrettable, but only regrettable. A wise man changed with the times, and the disciples would doubtless see the necessity of it eventually. Even Shu. It might even be good for her. Going from a somewhat promising disciple in a second tier sect to a concubine for a princeling of a rising power like the Radiant Dawn Sect would come with enormous benefits.

Probably. Depending on her behavior. Heavens only knew his own concubines had ways of parting him from pills and elixirs! She seemed the sort who liked to please others.

Shu made a decent cup of tea, for someone in the Earthly Realm, and always laid out the snacks very prettily. He’d been having her attend him for the last few weeks, just to keep an eye on her. It helped to build a sense of familiarity and reliance in advance, so she wouldn’t make a fuss and would obediently follow his arrangements. The Bamboo Medicine Hut had never had the strictest discipline. It would be a tragic waste if she just ran off.

“Disciple, you seem troubled. Is something the matter?” She always looked a little troubled, but tonight it was more obvious. A good time to build reliance.

“Yes, Sectmaster. I keep hearing about sects pressuring us, trying to force medicine or pills or healing from us. The guards have kept us safe, but I have to wonder how much longer they can hold out.”

Oh, how nice. If she was already fearful, that would make it so much easier to steer her to something safe, if a bit unwanted. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. Yes, it’s scary out in the world. But even if the sky is falling, aren’t there tall ones to hold it up? Your seniors are already making arrangements. There will be changes. Such is life. But so long as we are living, aren’t we winning?”

She bowed deeply. “Disciple thought too much.”

“Why don’t you brew a fresh pot, I could do with a nice cup of tea.” He smiled.

“Gladly, Sect Master.”

She busied herself breaking a piece of his good aged white tea off a tea cake, putting it in the tea pot, warming the pot with hot water before filling it…

“No, no, Little Shu. How many times must I remind you? Smile. Smile as you serve. Tea is a warm drink, so be warm. Smile. Pour smoothly, not too quick, not too slow. Never splash or make a mess. Be delicate with the pick, use the tongs like chopsticks lifting the most thin skinned dumplings imaginable. Graceful, gentle, and always smiling.”

She smiled. It wasn’t quite radiant, and it didn’t really reach her eyes, but it was wide enough. It would do. “Good, good. It’s worth practicing in the mirror, if you must.”

She delivered a fragrant cup to his hands. He might criticise her deportment, but he had nothing bad to say about her brewing skills. Thanks to his Heavenly grade tea leaves and Heavenly grade water, it was an entirely acceptable drink. He sipped it, smacking his lips happily and enjoying the old familiar flavor. Soon he was looking at the bottom of his favorite cup, the one with the chrysanthemum painted on it.

“Tell me, little Shu, which of the Four Noble Ones do you favor?”

“The plum blossom, Sect Master.”

“Really? You always struck me as one who favored orchids.” He lifted his cup for her to refill. She made no move.

“I did. They are out of season now.”

The sectmaster gasped, clutching his chest. His tendons started popping, the cup shattering in his hand. His throat swelled, and his eyes rolled up. Dozens of items fell from his storage ring, boxes of spirit stones, precious medicines, talismans, weapons, herbs and manuals she wasn’t qualified to even know about, let alone glance at the cover of. He thrashed, some of the things on the ground stirring without ever rising from the floor.

Shu waited until his body stopped seizing, then waited longer, the length of time it took a stick of incense to burn. Every now and then she looked upwards, like she was expecting something that never came. Then she held her own ring over the pile of fallen goods. A single letter, neatly folded, written in the Sectmaster’s fine handwriting, fell on top of them.

“Someone come quickly, there is something wrong with the Sect Master!”

Her screams were, everyone later agreed, quite heartfelt.

A week later, a delegation from the Radiant Dawn sect was met with a raised sect-defending array. Obscuring mists covered the valleys and hills of the Old Bamboo Medicine Hut, and the faint medicinal aroma on the breeze did not inspire feelings of comfort. They were met by a half dead old man, a patient from the hospital, no less. He explained that, tragicly, Sectmaster Ping had committed suicide, overcome with shame at his inability to defend the sect and shaming the teachings and examples of the ancestors.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The ruined man sounded like he was describing a stranger failing to buy the best fish at the market, quite indifferent to it all.

Leadership had fallen to the Hospital Director, supported by the leaders of the Medicine Compounding Hall, The Grand Alchemist, the Disciplinary Elder and the Chief of Guards, as well as most of the Heavenly Realm cultivators, including those who were patients in the hospital. The Bamboo Medicine Hut was willing to trade with all, but would remain sealed behind its wards. If someone managed to force the wards, so sorry, but the fields were all undermined with explosive arrays, poisons, and even the flow of energy through the whole valley would be sabotaged, ruining it for future cultivation. The medicine storehouse was even more thoroughly primed for destruction.

The losses, simply put, would far outweigh the gains for any invader. But they were quite open to trade. On the right terms. Being farmers, they really didn’t need much from the outside world. Safety? Security? In this day and age, did such things even really exist? They would look to themselves for safety, from now on. The days of relying on the benevolence of the mighty were quite done.

While the foreign delegation was raging in front of the sect gate, Shu made her way to the washing room behind the kitchen. There were big tubs of hot water there, some filled with bowls and dishes, others with sudsy water and laundry. The operation was overseen by their newest batch of recruits. Once, the older women would simply have been servants. Now, they were disciples. Mostly not very good ones, but cultivators nonetheless.

The golden-eyed children they brought with them were very good cultivators indeed, racing through the levels of the Earthly Realm like they were nothing at all. Though, their mentality was a bit… special. As were the cultivation chants they shared like they were cherries stolen from an overburdened tree. And the one adult male in the group was very ‘special’ indeed.