Year 658 of the Stable Era,

  Twentieth day of the tenth month

  Twenty-three minutes past the stroke of the 1st Outer Hour

  “Fuck!” Chang Hui swore as they entered the quiet seclusion of the jade bamboo path between the Pillbox and the Effervescent Sword Pavillion. Few disciples took this path at this hour, allowing her outburst to fall upon only two other pairs of ears as she furiously wrung her hands in the air. The stone leaves of the lustrous stalks chimed gently in the wind, but they did little to set her mind at ease.

  The negotiations Tong Sheyan had gone badly, at least so far as the matter of the Eye had gone. The salubrious serpent had oozed slightly sincere sorries and sibilant sss’s, her interest in expanding the Spiritual Arts Division’s prestige through a similar event to the Heavenly Wok Competition as clear to Hui as the fork in her tongue. She had secured a promise of a proper meeting to discuss the topic at a later date, but it was a cold comfort considering her current conundrum.

  She was no closer to the Eye than when she had started, and she had only a single hope to secure one before she was forced to resort to truly dire measures.

  “Ya’know boss, why’s this Drifting Cloud Eye thingy such a big deal?” Guan Tie asked, breaking the silence with his typical lack of tact. “Can’t we just get another’a the things?”

  “No, we cannot!” Hui snapped, wheeling on the slouching spearman. “Do you even know how much a Jade Drifting Cloud Eye costs? How precious they are?”

  “Doesn’t everyone have one?” Guan replied, wrists resting on his shoulder slung spear as he held up his palms apologetically.

  “No, they don’t! Not everybody is like the Martial Divisions. There’s only eight of the things on this entire peak. Seven, now that the Formation Division fucking destroyed theirs. The damned things cost more than a small sect made in a decade, and the Tumultuous Cloud Sect makes damned sure that the secret of their creation stays secret, so they’re the only ones that can make the damned things.” Hui forced herself cool off as they emerged for grove, reigning in her frustration.

  She took a seat on a bench as she waited for their next appointment, watching the disciples of the Sword Division training in the distance. Clear Jade Mountain had an abundance of training grounds, owing to the fact that its main purpose was to house the fledgling members of the sect. All eight of the Martial Divisions had their own territory here, ringing the peak and spaced by the various scholarly and crafting divisions. The Sword Division was the most prestigious of them, their new pagoda a twenty-tier testament to that truth.

  Their prominence also meant that they had been entrusted with a Jade Drifting Cloud Eye by the Sect, which was precisely why Hui was meeting with them. While the start of the Strongest Blade Tournament would cut it close with the Heavenly Wok Competition, she was old friends with Yao Minzhe, the Instructor responsible for managing the equipment. He still owed her a few favors.

  Favors that she intended to call in if necessary.

  As she sat, Li Gho approached her with a steaming cup that she’d acquired from a nearby stall, and Hui let both the tea and her thoughts steep as she planned her next move.

  A positive mindset was important here.

  Calm mind, quiet qi. No need to give too much of the game away.

  He’d know that it was important from the fact that she was suddenly dropping in on him between lessons, but the timing was imperative to avoid the possibility of any rumor of her other meetings reaching him. Spill too many of her tiles too early, and she’d be giving him far too much leverage.

  After a particularly long stick of incense, the lesson wrapped up, and Chang Hui made her approach as Yao Minzhe was sheathing his sword.

  As ever, he looked good. He had the frame of a classical body cultivator—lean, efficient muscles filling out his robe out in all the right areas. In keeping with the fashion of the Sword Division the bright teal-jade of his Instructor’s robe was embroidered with a subtle pattern of flying swords, a pale steel shade derived from a mixture of ironwood sap and xuanjun crystals.

  His obsidian smooth hair was held in a short topknot by a short gold guan decorated with a pattern of clouds and swords, the rest hanging just past his shoulder blades. The only blemish on his otherwise perfect skin was a thin scar running from ear to chin, a trophy from a mighty spirit beast that he had hunted ages ago.

  He’d been pushing the middle of the Body Moulding stage for a century or so now, delaying its further development to reinforce his other pillars. Supposedly he was still pursuing his dao, as he claimed that he was finding enlightenment in teaching others, and seeing the enthusiasm with which he had taught the lesson, Hui was inclined to believe that it might be more than an excuse for his decision to drop out of the tournament scene.

  “Ah, Sister Hui,” Minzhe said as she approached, offering her a polite half bow. “It’s been a while. What brings you to the Sword Division? And in such illustrious company no less.” He glared at Guan Tie at these last words, and after a moment Hui recalled that there was a slight bit of animosity between the two.

  Guan Tie had always been a prodigy within the martial divisions, and they’d each done their best to court him when he’d been deciding his path. Yao Minzhe has been the first of the representatives of the Sword Division to approach him, only to be publicly rebuffed for the meager nature of his offering.

  “Ya’tryin’ ta start somethin’?” the tall cultivator responded, leaning in towards Minzhe as he did. A flicker of qi ran the length of his spear, the wrappings around its blade unfolding themself around the end of the shaft. His eyes glinted with excitement, ready to start a fight at the first sign of a probable provocation.

  “There will be none of that,” Hui stated, stepping between the two before Minzhe could place more than the tip of his index finger on his sword. “Guan Tie, if you want to pursue a duel you may do so on your own time. Today you represent the Southern Peaks Gambling Hall, and you would do well to remember that fact.”

  “Brother Minzhe, I apologize for the insolence of my subordinate. He is still getting used to his place within our organization.” She returned his bow as she said this, pointedly ignoring Guan Tie’s grumbling as she continued. “We are here to request the use of your Jade Drifting Cloud Eye again, assuming that you are willing to agree to our usual arrangement.”

  Minzhe nodded, well acquainted with the size of the bag of spirit stones their deal entailed.

  “I think that the Sword Division can arrange for a loan to our longtime friend and ally,” he mused. “But with Tournament Month so soon…” He let his words trail off, a well-worn tic of his that had long since worn well past Hui’s ability to take it seriously.

  “It would be a shame if I were so unaware of you Division’s schedule,” Hui countered, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “Imagine if my Southern Peaks Gambling Hall had missed a beat. All those banners, unhung. All those promotions, unspoken. All those seats…empty. My, in my age, I worry that my mental cultivation is finally hitting a bottleneck, as I am suddenly having trouble remembering: was it three tournaments that you are hosting this year? Or perhaps it was four?”

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  “Ah, Sister Hui, surely you jest,” Minzhe laughed nervously.

  “Ah, but Brother Minzhe, is it not proper to exchange like for like? Good returned with twofold interest, bad threefold, and a measure of wasted time for an equal measure taken in turn. Now, if you’re ready, perhaps we can adjourn to a more comfortable location to discuss things in detail. As I recall you were quite proud of those new chairs of yours last we talked. Perhaps we can appreciate them over some delightful jellied fruits you keep around.”

  Minzhe nodded at this, gesturing to the adjacent pagoda with a sweep of his sleeves.

  “But of course. Unfortunately, I have only the two, and I would regret inconveniencing your companions.”

  “That would be a shame,” Hui agreed. “I suppose that they can wait.”

  She pulled a pair of thick purple spirit stones from her ring—each easily worth at least five units apiece—and flicked them to Li Gho in one smooth motion. She watched Minzhe’s reaction as she did, noting the way that his eyes narrowed imperceptibly as they followed the stones’ trajectory. “Go enjoy some tea. This might take a while.”

  “Much appreciated Senior,” Li Gho replied, bowing deeply before grabbing Guan Tie by the butt of his spear and pulling him away, the steel-haired spearman offering only token resistance.

  Had he insisted on pursuing his grudge Hui doubted that there was much that Li Gho could do to stop him, as they were an entire stage apart, but she was well aware of his mercurial nature. Before he had even left mortal earshot his complaints had already changed to chatter about which teashops offered the best accompaniments at this time of day.

  Shaking her head at his shameless nature, Hui drew her sword with a snap of her fingers, her Teal Jade Flying Sword Technique whisking it from place on her back in a fluid motion. At her size its five-foot length made it a hard draw regardless of position, but her cultivation’s leaning towards a hands-off approach was well suited for the task. She delicately hopped onto her blade, following the already-airborne Yao Minzhe to his room on the fifteenth floor.

  The place hadn’t changed much since she’d last seen it, its ornate red wallpaper and dark wooden floors still shiny with the luster that only newness seemed to bestow. The sole addition to the half-filled racks of swords, plain desk, and haphazardly matched rugs were the aforementioned chairs, of whom the precise nature of their exotic wood, silk cushions, and renowned artisan craftsmanship had been thoroughly seared into her mind through Minzhe’s unrelenting fixation on the damned things.

  They were quite comfortable, though, Hui thought as she took a seat, even if every other aspect of their overwrought design and bright green color was completely at odds with the rest of the décor. The thought sent a pang of jealousy through her heart, reminding her of all her belongings currently languishing in storage, bound by her current office. She hardened her resolve. If she ever wanted to work her way back to an office of this size, she needed to ensure that this deal went through.

  “The chairs are quite comfortable,” Hui remarked, giving the chartreuse cushion a pat. “The Ten-Step Venom Spider silk is as remarkable as you claimed.”

  “But of course!” Minzhe replied, pulling a plate of precisely-cut cubes of jellied fruits from the icebox in the corner of his office. “It takes thirty years to produce enough silk for a single cushion, but it’s all worth it for this softness.”

  Hui nodded, avoiding any follow-up questions. She already knew far too much about how many spider it took to produce each cushion (two), the size of the spiders (a small goat for the males, a large cow for the females), and just about every other detail about their lifecycle, diet, natural habitat, and spiritual abilities.

  She left any comments about the species of wood remain unsaid. It simply bore too much fruit.

  “So,” Hui said, spearing a peach cube with a flying toothpick, “let’s get down to the bronze nails of this. Your first big tournament on the twenty-ninth. My Southern Peaks Gambling Hall is hosting a competition in seven days, and we need your Eye for it. We’re willing to pay the usual rate, plus a small bonus of thirty spirit stones as a token of our appreciation for your flexibility.”

  “This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the recent events at the Talisman Division, would it?” Minzhe mused, twirling his toothpick around his fingers.

  “So, you’ve heard,” Hui sighed.

  “Hard not too, considering that I was using one of the fields next to it,” Minzhe responded with the smug smile of a gambler confident in his hand. “Considering the circumstance, demand’s about to become quite a deal fiercer. I think that double the usual rate would be a more fitting price, considering the circumstances.”

  Hui visibly balked, overplaying her disappointment with the offer. Five hundred spirit stones was no small sum, and allowing Minzhe the faintest belief that he had the leverage to demand it would only stymie the negotiations.

  “Ah, Minzhe, I thought I said that we’d leave our jokes on the field. Surely our friendship is worth more than this?”

  “You might be the first to come to me, but you’ll be far from the last,” Minzhe chuckled, his pick orbiting him as it dove after an apricot morsel. “One must set the price according to the market, after all.” It was a bold bit of graft, even by his standards, but Hui had more than a few tile up her sleeve.

  It’s interesting that you should mention that,” Hui responded, plucking another peach from the plate. “If we’re on the topic of renegotiating, perhaps we should consider other adjustments as well. I have been meaning to go over the odds we’ll be using for the next month, to be certain that our spread is balanced, of course. With Tournament Month upon us, there is so much to consider, and it would be a shame if a few errors were to slip through the cracks.”

  Minzhe froze at this, his toothpick faltering in the air for the briefest of moments before resuming its orbit.

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Wouldn’t dare to what? Ruin a friendship for the sake of a few spirit stones? What do you take me for, a common thief? Relationships are to be treasured at our age, and it would be a shame for either of us to allow mere wealth to come between us. No, I am simply stating that my workload might lessen should we become unable to hold our little competition. Allowing me the time to more properly fulfill my duties in other areas.”

  Minzhe clenched his fist under the desk, a gesture that Hui easily read through the slight crease of his robe. He was an old client of the Southern Peaks Gambling Hall, and the occasional private consultant for additional research to ensure the balance of a spread. Sure, he might occasionally be a bit wrong, and the odd pair of lopsided odds might tilt in the wrong direction, but he always made more than enough that his kickback properly balanced her books.

  He’d become a bit too accustomed to that particular bit of extra revenue as of late, and it was time that she reminded him who controlled the purse.

  He grimaced, gritting his teeth for a moment before making his counteroffer.

  “Four hundred.”

  Hui tsked in disappointment, shaking her head.

  “I can’t very well offer more if it’s destined to end up in my pocket. My previous offer, plus a two-year hold on your interest.”

  A few months ago, Minzhe had lost a large sum when Guan Tie’s disciple had defied the heavens by defeating his, and he’d been allowed himself to become too distracted to deal with the consequences in a timely manner.

  “Three hundred?” he ventured shamelessly.

  “Ten more, as a token of our long and continued friendship, and two tokens admittance to our competition,” Hui countered, relaxing her demeanor as she did. Minzhe hummed and hawed a bit, but the fight was gone from his eyes by the time he shook her hand.

  “Here,” she said, passing him a pair of carefully marked copper tokens. “These come with priority access to any of the extra food, so be sure not to trade them off.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize that you had started providing meals at your contests,” Minzhe said, inspecting the tokens. “That’s quite a welcome change.”

  “Huh?” Hui said, cocking her head in confusion. “It’s food from the contest.”

  “What?”

  “The spirit chefs competing in the Heavenly Wok Competition have to prepare at least ten servings of each of their dishes, five for the panel of judges, and five for a random selection of audience members to try. Those tokens have been enchanted to guarantee participation in at least one of the rounds.”

  “Oh,” Minzhe said, his face paling as he pushed the tokens across his desk to Hui. “No, I’m sorry, but I can’t take these. The Sword Division will have to decline your request to borrow our Jade Drifting Cloud Eye.”

  “You can’t renege on our deal,” Hui said, furrowing her brows.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s that… well, the Sword Division has a duty towards pursuing the martial path, and a cooking competition hardly follows such a noble goal.”

  Hui’s eyes narrowed.

  “You’ve lent it to us for non-martial tournaments before. Like the Go tournament. Or the crab eating competition.”

  “That… was uh before—”

  “Before what?”

  “…”

  “Minzhe…”

  “I’m sorry, but they won’t—” he stopped, shoving a cube of sweet strawberry into his mouth in a desperate attempt to cover up his slip, but it was too late. Hui pounced on it like a tiger.

  “Who is this they?”

  “The…Division Elders?”

  “Minzhe!” Hui slammed her fist against the desk, cubes of fruit and jelly bouncing a foot in the air from the force. “What are you hiding from me.”