That was as far as she could take the training alone. The second technique, Against the Wind, didn’t simply enhance her throws; rather, it used the connection formed by a successful attack to hinder the opponent, battering them with gusts of wind that could slow and throw off their movements. To make progress, she would require someone to practice with……

  She also needed a team.

  There was less than a week left until Instructor Zhou’s exam, and while she could simply wait and fall in with some random stragglers, it seemed more prudent to group up with someone she knew. With how busy she had been, meetings with Han Jian had fallen by the wayside. She wouldn’t be able to speak with him after he returned to the boys’ residences so she would simply have to do it now at the end of training.

  Unfortunately, he was standing with two other disciples, one of which was that irritating Yu.

  The other disciple was a girl with pale skin and delicate features subtly painted to accentuate her beauty. Her long, straight black hair gleamed like silk in its simple braid. She was also rather obviously gifted in all the ways that Ling Qi was not, and the sweat worked up by today’s lesson was doing little to hide that fact.

  A splash of color drew Ling Qi out of her envious study. On her right hand, the other girl wore a red leather glove.The glove’s bright, crimson shade caught the light as the girl waved a hand dismissively at something said by the boys. Dozens of black characters were embroidered on its surface.

  Much like that Yu, she seemed friendly toward Han Jian. And if Ling Qi were to judge, the girl was also standing closer to his side than was strictly necessary. She found herself scowling at the girl’s back. Just what she needed. Another complication.

  The crowd was thinning out. Ling Qi would need to either approach or leave. As much as she wanted to wait until Han Jian was alone…… she didn’t want to put this off either. Every day that passed brought the test closer.

  Ling Qi took a fortifying breath and began to walk briskly toward them, doing her best to put on a friendly expression despite the churning in her stomach. She did make sure to adjust her approach so that Han Jian would likely be the one to notice her first. Sure enough, she saw his eyes shift to hers as she raised a hand to wave to him. His attention made the other two look at her as well. Yu’s look was brief and dismissive, but the girl regarded her with narrowed eyes for a moment before the expression smoothed out into a welcoming smile.

  “Ling Qi. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you lately,” Han Jian said in greeting as she came into earshot.

  “How’d things go with…… ah, Li Suyin, was it?” Ling Qi had let him know why she was going to be busy.

  Ling Qi dipped her head slightly in greeting, giving the other two a polite nod despite her irritation with Yu.

  “We have both made some good gains from our cooperation. I reached the second stage of Argent Soul. I’ve also been able to reach the first level of mastery with the art I received from the Archive.”


  Ling Qi left out her lack of practice on live targets. She wasn’t certain how to feel about the considering look this earned her from Yu, but she was glad Han Jian had given her an opening to talk herself up without it seeming awkward. She wondered if he had done it on purpose.

  At this point, the other girl cleared her throat politely and spoke up. “Jian, are you going to introduce us?”


  Han Jian laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

  “Oh, right. I suppose I forgot that. Ling Qi, you’ve already met Yu…… Fan Yu, even if the introduction wasn’t the smoothest.”


  “I have,” Ling Qi said sourly, unable to keep her dislike from her tone. The short, muscular boy seemed unbothered by her dirty look.

  “I said nothing untrue,” Fan Yu responded with a snort, “even if it turns out you have a little talent. At least Jian was not totally wasting his time. I suppose everyone must have a good point.” Ling Qi wasn’t sure if Fan Yu expected her to be infuriated by his bluntly unapologetic statement or flattered by his compliment……

  Definitely infuriated. Han Jian’s smile grew strained as she glared at Fan Yu, a slight breeze coincidentally kicking up and sending the hem of her gown fluttering.

  “.…… This is Gu Xiulan, Yu’s fiancee, and one of my other friends from home,” Han Jian said.

  “My condolences,” Ling Qi said dryly, drawing a scowl from Fan Yu.

  Gu Xiulan just laughed lightly, covering her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

  “That isn’t necessary,” Gu Xiulan responded sweetly. “My Yu is just a little too blunt for his own good at times.” There was an edge of something in her tone as she looked Ling Qi up and down before turning her gaze back to Han Jian.

  “Where did you meet her, Han Jian?”


  “Oh, we just had a chat during orientation and I thought I’d help out,” Han Jian said cheerfully. “Turns out she didn’t really need much help to get going,” he added kindly, smiling at Ling Qi.

  Gu Xiulan sighed. “You are so kind, Jian. It is lucky that it paid off this time. I suppose you do have an eye for talent.”


  “Thanks,” Ling Qi cut in, feeling slightly irritated at being talked over. Dealing with Fan Yu and Gu Xiulan was making her less comfortable by the moment, and she wanted to get this over with.

  “I wanted to ask if you wanted to group up for the test, Han Jian. My art is good for support and ranged fighting and defense, but……”


  “Well, at least she knows how to make herself useful,” Fan Yu interrupted.

  “But you shouldn’t bother wasting the instructor’s time. Just be content with getting a month of his training. It’s already more luck than someone like you should expect.”


  Ling Qi bristled, scowling at the other boy, but Han Jian managed to speak up before she could.

  “No need for that,” he said warningly. “Besides, it’s not a bad idea. You’re a close up fighter and so is Fang, and Xiulan is not much on defense. We could use another supporting fighter to round things out.”


  “But a barely trained peasant? I know you’re enamored, Han Jian, but this is ridiculous.” Fan Yu threw up his hands.

  “Have you ever even been in a fight, girl? I refuse to lose my place because we took on an amateur.”


  “I’ve been in a few fights,” Ling Qi responded defensively, glaring at him. She left out that it hadn’t so much been fair fights as taking advantage of drunks or tripping up angry marks to get away.

  “Now, now. Let’s not get too worked up,” Gu Xiulan said placatingly, glancing at Ling Qi out of the corner of her eye. “Han Jian’s judgement is good, is it not? Why not trust him?”


  Fan Yu looked rebellious but eventually dropped his gaze, grumbling under his breath.

  Ling Qi gritted her teeth but refrained from speaking. Instead, she looked to Han Jian, whose expression was neutral.

  “I think we could use a fifth person. Weren’t we talking about that before Ling Qi came over?” Han Jian asked lightly.

  “That is the standard squad size. She fits the bill of what we need, if not perfectly. It’s not like any first year disciple will have a healing art at this point.

  “Unless you want to go try and chat up Sun Liling again?” Han Jian asked Fan Yu.

  The other boy shuddered, rubbing his chest as if remembering a phantom pain. “.……No, not again, I think,” Fan Yu grumbled.

  “Fine, I’m outvoted since Fang will go along with whatever you say, Jian. It’s on your head if she ruins this for us.”


  “I can pull my own weight,” Ling Qi responded irritably. “Thank you, Han Jian,” she added in a softer tone. That was one less worry she had to deal with.

  “Who is Fang though?”


  “Ah. That would be my cousin, Han Fang,” Han Jian replied. “He’s gone into closed door for a few days to finish breaking through to Mid Gold.” He must have spotted her confusion at the term “closed door” immediately because he continued, “Fang’s cultivating non-stop.”


  Ling Qi nodded in understanding. She had been doing something similar, but now she had a name for it. “I guess I’ll meet him soon then,” she said.

  “.…… Is there a time where the group trains together or……” Ling Qi trailed off.

  “Afternoons on the days after Jian’s spiritual lessons,” Gu Xiulan said. “We’ll have to make sure you’re up to standard after all.”


  Fan Yu snorted, and Han Jian cast a suspicious look at Gu Xiulan, whose expression was the picture of innocence.

  “Yeah. We meet up at a field at the mountain’s base. Let me give you directions……”


  With her worst worry resolved, Ling Qi found her thoughts turning back to Bai Meizhen as she trudged home that night. She wanted to pay the girl back for the tea, which had already helped her and would only help more in the future.

  Ling Qi had not seen even a glimpse of Bai Meizhen in days though. It struck her just how little she actually knew about the odd girl despite nearly a month of semi-regular interaction. Bai Meizhen simply didn’t talk about herself or even emote much. She had no idea of the girl’s likes and dislikes beyond the fact that she got irritated when Ling Qi didn’t pick things up quickly. Well, Ling Qi could probably say that she knew the other girl had a great deal of affection for her ‘cousin’.

  This was why when she opened the door to her house, she was brought up short at the sight of the little green serpent curled up by the hearth alone.

  “.……Bai Meizhen?” Ling Qi called out. She didn’t hear her housemate moving about, but the girl could be disturbingly silent at times. Closing the door behind her, she continued to peer around. “Are you here?”


  Her only answer was silence so despite the oddity, Ling Qi sat down to get the fire going so that she could fix herself dinner. As she busied herself with those tasks, her eyes drifted to Cui again and again. It was so weird seeing them separate.

  She was careful not to tread on Cui, and the little snake didn’t pay her any mind. As she was boiling water for the tea, an idea occurred. Bai Meizhen had assured her once or twice that Cui understood them and was capable of speech even if Ling Qi had never heard the snake do so.

  Who would know what the pale girl liked more than her constant companion? Ling Qi still felt a bit foolish when she cleared her throat and spoke up. She couldn’t quite get over the impression that she was talking to an animal.

  “Bai Cui, do you know where Bai Meizhen has been?” she asked awkwardly, deciding to be respectful. “And why aren’t you with her?”


  The thin green coils didn’t even twitch at her words, and as the seconds stretched on, Ling Qi’s feeling of foolishness only grew. Finally, she sighed and looked away, preparing to set the pot containing the water out over the fire.

  ‘


  Ling Qi jerked in place, looking back at the little green snake. That…… hadn’t been words. It was more like…… a foreign thought directly pushed into her head.

  “.…… Was that you?” Ling Qi asked, feeling even more foolish as the words slipped out.

  The snake raised her head from her coils to flick her forked tongue irritably up at Ling Qi. She got the impression that Bai Cui thought her question silly. Still it was…… garbled, and the feeling stopped.

  ‘


  That was a little clearer. It seemed like simple concepts were easier to convey. Cui was lowering her head again, apparently intending to go back to ignoring Ling Qi.

  Ling Qi felt rather out of her depth but decided to push on anyway. She had already embroiled herself in this bizarre situation.

  “Wait, please. I…… want to do something for your cousin, but I don’t know what she would appreciate. Could you tell me something she might like?” She felt rather awkward asking this, but she was out of ideas.

  It still seemed to catch Bai Cui’s interest, and the tiny snake stared at her, tongue periodically flicking out.

  Ling Qi scowled at the spirit beast’s disparagement, but the snake wasn’t done. What came next was hard to understand, but she thought Cui was suggesting that she just keep doing what she was currently doing.

  “That’s not enough,” Ling Qi disagreed vehemently. “There has to be .

  ”


  The little serpent stared at her until Ling Qi began to fidget. Finally, Cui sent an image of a necklace. It was made of fine silver links with a dark green jade pendant in the shape of a coiled dragon. The pendant hung from a girl’s chest, bouncing as she walked. Along with the image came a feeling of covetousness.

  “Bai Meizhen wants jewelry?” Ling Qi asked, bewildered. Why hadn’t the other girl just purchased the piece then? It was pretty, but she was sure that Bai Meizhen’s family was absurdly wealthy.

  Her comment earned her what she was fairly certain was a look of supreme irritation from Bai Cui.

  Was it something Bai Meizhen was actively trying to get or had Cui simply noticed her wanting it? It was so frustrating that she couldn’t properly communicate with the spirit beast.

  Said spirit beast laid her head back down, and all further attempts at speaking to Bai Cui were ignored. Ling Qi wasn’t quite certain she wanted to start thieving at the Sect yet if only because she wasn’t sure if she could pull it off without getting caught. She was also a little dubious that she was interpreting Cui correctly.

  She would just have to explore other options for now. She couldn’t afford to get distracted with Elder Zhou’s exam looming.

  Threads 9

  Ling Qi steadied herself and turned back to Vengeance-for-Burning-Grove, doing her best to project confidence as she strode back to him. “Sir Vengeance, if you do not mind, I will wait with you. It will benefit me to speak with the King, I think.”


  The burning tree made a crackling groan as he gave her a sidelong look from his deep-set, knothole eyes.

  The wait was interminable, but Ling Qi found any attempt at conversing with Vengeance dying in her throat under the ominous pressure approaching them. Yet that very presence seemed in no hurry. Seconds stretched into minutes until nearly a quarter of an hour had passed. The first indication of its approach was the noise, a strangely muted cacophony of beastly cries and tramping feet mixed with the creaking of bending wood and the tearing of the earth.

  Soon, the smoldering fires nearby snuffed out,and even the flames burning on Vengeance guttered low. Ling Qi found it hard to breathe, and her raw animal instincts screamed at her to run, to flee, to cower. It was only long acclimation to Meizhen’s aura that allowed her to hold her ground without doing more than going pale and trembling.

  She understood then that what was coming was not something on the level of Zeqing, but something far beyond that. The presence’s relative weakness was due to the fact that this was but an echo of events long past like the impression of a blinding light seen on the back of one’s eyelids.

  That did little to take away from her growing nerves as she saw the shadow of movement in the now darkened woods. She did not know what she was expecting, but it was not what emerged. What stepped forth from the treeline, brush parting before him like a curtain, was a man.

  Yet it was not.

  Towering over her, tall enough to look down upon any human, the “King” was nonetheless slender and androgynous, similar to Sixiang’s briefly held flesh and blood form. Long, luxurious black hair tumbled down past his shoulders, loose and wild, kept from his face by curving, branched horns which rose from his temples like a stag’s. He wore an emerald robe of many layers that draped his form and rippled in the suddenly chill wind.

  Despite those trappings of humanity though, there was something off about the King. The motion she could see of his legs beneath the billowy robe was wrong, and his footfalls were more like the sound of hooves than any human feet. His handsome features and dark eyes seemed perfect, but the lines of it were subtly off like a mask that did not fit quite right, and the burning viridian light of his pupils reminded her unsettlingly of Cai Shenhua.

  That did not even consider his entourage. In his wake, trees writhed, nightmarish faces forming and disappearing in the lines of the dark, and the shadows seethed with hungry eyes that gleamed in the night. She saw predators and prey alike among the unnatural darkness, shadowed even to her gaze. Wolves stalked amidst stags, and the earth writhed with vermin under the hungry eyes of raptors perched in living branches. Behind him stretched a vast swarm of beasts, more than she could ever name. But the vast menagerie, the forest made manifest, was eerily quiet and dim and remained behind him, as if they were only his shadow.

  Vengeance rumbled, awkwardly bowing his burning trunk in a facsimile of the human motion.

  Ling Qi very quickly imitated the tree spirit’s motion, clapping her hands together and bowing as low as she could manage. “This humble one greets Your Majesty and begs forgiveness for this one’s intrusion.”


  The King neither replied nor glanced her way as he strode across the clearing to stand before Vengeance-for-Burning-Grove. “Thy vengeance shall be done,” he decreed as he laid his hand upon the burning tree’s bark, flames parting around his slender digits. “Thy death avenged.”


  Ling Qi remained studiously silent, peering out from under her bangs, but her eyes widened as Vengeance stilled before his flames roared to life, engulfing his form entirely in an inferno. The sudden burst of ashen woodsmoke almost made her cough and gag. She heard the King inhale, and flames and smoke alike were drawn in, reversing the explosion that had happened mere moments ago. When the flames faded, Vengeance-for-Burning-Grove was gone, and the King stood, a faint trickle of smoke rising from his lips.

  “So that is where my wayward brother’s final redoubt is hidden,” the King mused, lowering his hand. His voice was musical and almost feminine, at odds with the atmosphere he exuded.

  His gaze fell on Ling Qi then, and she froze. She found her muscles locked, denied any form of motion as the King turned toward her, the primal green radiance that shone from his eyes casting her clasped hands in a sickly light. “And what possessed thee to remain on this night of blood?” he asked, casual and indifferent in tone.

  Her mouth was dry, Ling Qi thought absently, as his shadow fell over her. She felt the patter of countless feet as the carpet of mice and rats engulfed her feet, and the wraiths of ancient and hoary trees rose around her, their limbs heavy with birds, staring down at her with gleaming, hungry eyes. How long had it been since she had seen the night as a mortal did?

  “I want to understand what is happening,” Ling Qi said with more confidence than she felt. “Your Majesty, I have-”


  “What an amusing creature,” he interrupted, taking a stride closer. “What does it matter to you, Magpie-Who-Wears-the-Crow’s-Plumes? Dost thou imagine that thou can change the outcome of this night?”


  Why

  it matter to her? The King had a point; the forces moving in this dream were beyond her, and she was beginning to suspect that this memory was neither as structured or as safe as an elder’s test. So why? Why did it matter enough to put herself at risk?……

  Because this was the situation she had chosen to put herself into, was it not? She was a small piece moving around the field between titans, but she would eventually be expected to not only affect, but even contribute, to their plans, plans that she may have no understanding of and barely any context for.

  “Because I need to understand, if I am to survive.” The words came to her lips, unbidden. “Even if I am small, my actions can affect the paths of the mighty and draw their attention.”


  “A good answer,” the King said, stepping closer still. “Very well. A boon then for shortening this night’s dance.”


  Despite his words, Ling Qi only felt her discomfort rise as his slender hand clasped her shoulder, filled with a strength that could crush her in an instant.

  “Before the Emperor and Empires, many Weilu strayed from the true path. They broke old pacts, cutting wood beyond the limits of our oaths and building festering nests of stone like the foolish apes to the north. They broke with the flow of the sun, the moon, and the seasons, as if they could forge a new order for themselves.”


  “The King of the Forests tolerated this for he loved both of his sons and did not wish to raise his hand against one of them, and after all, the son’s depredations struck such a tiny, tiny fraction of the vast Emerald Seas.” The king’s lilting voice held an edge of contempt.

  “Yet many were unhappy with our wayward brethren, and so when he passed, it was the Elder Brother, who walked the true path, who was crowned. When he politely requested that his Younger Brother and his foolish followers tear down their ugly blights and return to the true way, they refused.” All around him, wolves snarled and birds cried, the dulled cacophony of the forest rising. “How mad of them.”


  Ling Qi felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She maintained her silence despite the pain from the King’s fingers digging into her shoulder as fury leaked into his voice.

  “They bought metals and stone from serpents and apes and laid siege to our most sacred temples. They pillaged and killed their own kin and defied the holy conclave of kings. Yet when this King reached the peak, gathered the scattered courts to war, and awoke the Seas, what good did it do?” the king narrated contemptuously. “The followers of the truth have scoured the oathbreakers from the land and cast down their blights. They have regrown the sullied groves on the flesh and blood of chattel and traitors alike. Now, only one foolish man remains unrepentant. It is my younger brother and nephews who I hunt this night, little dreamer.”


  Ling Qi bit her lip as she felt the King’s sharpened fingernails stab into her skin, drawing blood. “I see. Thank you very much, Your Majesty. I understand now.”


  “Thou dost not, little dreamer,” he rebutted. “But thou will. Thou shalt join us on our hunt. Only then shalt thy boon be granted. Pray that the understanding does not break thee.”


  Ling Qi felt her throat dry up. “You honor me, Your Majesty.” Her voice sounded like a raspy whisper to her own ears.

  “This King does not,” he clarified, sounding vaguely amused. “What interesting customs the future holds.”


  Ling Qi could only remain silent. Her lessons on etiquette contained no response to that.

  “Thy boon was a paltry one given thy service. New hunter, this King offers thee a blessing of fang or hide, which will carry even unto the waking world. Choose now, and let the hunt begin.”


  Ling Qi swallowed,surrounded as she was by the embodiment of a forest’s rage with the hand of an incalculably more powerful cultivator on her shoulder. Her thoughts raced.

  For a wild moment, she wanted to demand that he take into account the innocents on this night, to stay his hand from civilians or even just from her companion in arms, Shen Hu. But at the thought of saying it to the King…… She met his eyes and saw the murderous fury in them. She flinched, and the words died without ceremony in her throat.

  Could she really afford to risk herself in the face of this kind of power? Even if she were insulated from death in this memory, injury could spell ruin for her and her clan. She would only continue to receive resources and backing if she continued to meet the goals set out by Duchess Cai. She was confident that without injury, she could maintain her pace of cultivation and keep up with her liege, ending no more than five Sect ranks behind Cai Renxiang, as required. With this dream thing’s hand pressing down on her shoulder and his nails piercing into her skin, it forced her to remember just how fragile her position was. Could she risk all that for the sake of someone she was just barely getting to know?

  No, she could not refuse. He had offered her a boon, and she would choose one.

  How quickly perspectives could change. Had she not been bantering with Shen Hu earlier, confident that whatever was in this dream would just be another opportunity for her to capitalize on? She had gotten arrogant. She hated this. She hated being so wholly under someone else’s power. She hated having her own helplessness rubbed in her face. She worked so hard, cultivated so much, but she was still so

  very

  small.

  “The blessing of fang,” she whispered. The words tasted like rot on her tongue, like spoiled food dug out of the trash in hungry desperation. Surely, she thought, if this was one of her real friends, the ones who had helped her get through the whole of last year in Outer Sect, she wouldn’t have hesitated at all to risk asking for their safety. Sure she would, some bitter part of her mocked. Had she really changed at all? Or had she merely been lucky not to have her resolve truly tested?

  “I see,” the thing in the shape of a man said. “Very well then.”


  She felt a burning pain then, beginning from her shoulder where the King’s hand rested. A wild and chaotic qi bubbled under her skin and dig hooks into her mind.

  Then the King howled in pain, and the feeling cut off. She barely recognized a feeling of shock before the hand on her shoulder twitched, and she screamed as she felt her collarbone crack from the sheer monstrous force behind that spasm. Ling Qi flew backward to slam bodily into one of the many trees in an explosion of splinters and sawdust, her qi pool dropping precipitously to cushion the blow. She tasted blood in her mouth.

  Ling Qi slid bonelessly down the massive tree trunk and looked up. She saw the Horned King, his snarling features lit by a terrible colorless radiance that was all too familiar. He held his right hand away from his body, and there, Ling Qi could see a half dozen wriggling white threads digging into his flesh and spreading glowing lines up his wrist. All around her, phantasmal beasts howled and roared, nearly deafening her.

  The King’s left hand blurred, and with a wet, tearing squelch and a thump, his burning hand and forearm fell to the grass. The limb somehow grew and withered at the same time. Lumpy growths swelled where radiant threads passed while the rest became little more than a mummified claw. As the King stared at his smoking stump, Ling Qi could only do the same.

  She was going to die. That was her first thought. Her second, faintly hysterical one was just what Cai Renxiang had put into her gown.

  There was a wet crack, and Ling Qi saw a length of bone grow forth from the stump, then another, followed swiftly by tendrils of sinew and meat as the King’s right hand and forearm began to regrow. His eyes fell on her once more.

  “What a jealous creature,” he commented, faintly bemused, but Ling Qi could feel the pique beneath his passive mask. “Well, no direct changes? There are other methods.”


  Ling Qi had no chance to plead forgiveness before the multitude of rats and vermin carpeting the ground swarmed her, thousands of scrabbling claws and furry bodies racing up her limbs and engulfing her. Her last sight was the King staring pensively at his half-regrown hand.