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Gu Wen had made a habit of coming to this inn every year at this time.
She was a bit late this year, but to be fair, it wasn’t an exact schedule. Back when she first drank here, it had been to celebrate her first triumph as a cultivator. She hadn’t quite figured out the calendar at the time, but it had been a few weeks since she’d first found herself in this world.
She really envied those story protagonists who were immediately granted all the memories of the life they were taking over when they transmigrated. She hadn’t been that lucky - at least by some contrivance they spoke something intelligible to her, who spoke only Mandarin and high school English. If it hadn’t been for that, she’d have been almost helpless.
How far she’d come in just four years, the cultivator thought and she raised her cup in private toast to the naive young college student who’d woken here in the middle of a marriage procession. As Gu Wen drained the cup, she doubted that her younger self could have imagined surviving all the adventures of the last few years.
“Another jar!” she called to the innkeeper, tossing a gold tael onto the wooden table.
The pot-bellied man looked up and then bowed deeply. “Of course, honored cultivator!” He disappeared into the backroom but she was sure he’d be back shortly. It was mid-afternoon, not exactly a busy time in the inn’s common room. Gu Wen was the only customer left from the lunch time crowd and she doubted dinner customers would start to arrive for another hour or so.
A moment later, the innkeeper arrived with a sealed jar of wine in his hand. “Our best vintage,” he assured her. The tael vanished from the table by some ancient art of the man’s profession - Gu Wen wasn’t entirely sure how many taels the wine was worth, but no doubt she’d overpaid. Not that it mattered. “Pray enjoy this, immortal cultivator!”
Gu Wen hid a grin. It was nice having mortals crawl to her, in fear of her might. Not that she was going to actually beat them up or wreck the place - but she couldn’t deny, it was a lot better than having to watch out for the queen-bees of the dorm. Back home, dating the wrong guy or not deferring to the richer or prettier students could cause trouble. Or at, least, that was the implication.
Here, she was the implied threat and anyone who knew she was a cultivator had to respect that.
Except other cultivators, that was.
The thought soured Gu Wen’s mood slightly and she cracked the seal on the new bottle, refreshing her cup. She tossed back the contents - she certainly hadn’t come here to think about those bastards! - and swallowed them.
“Ah!” This was good wine, she thought, happily putting other thoughts aside. Maybe she should order some more snacks. She was fairly sure that she wouldn’t have to worry about building up belly-fat at her level of cultivation. And she did have a pretty active lifestyle…
She looked up to wave over the innkeeper again and saw that, in contrast to her expectations, there was another customer now. The man must have come in while she was tasting the wine.
With the innkeeper engrossed, Gu Wen realized that it might be a moment or two before she could get his attention. Well, no matter. She poured herself more wine from the jar. There was no rush. Then, because she could, she eavesdropped on their conversation from the far end of the common room.
“I’m sorry, Immortal Cultivator,” the innkeeper almost wailed as he wrung his hands. “I just sold my last good wine and it will be a day or two until I get more.”
“You don’t have a single jar left that’s been aged more than five years?” the young-ish looking man asked sceptically.
The mortal looked pitiful. “It’s been a dreadfully busy week, lord! I swear to the Great Buddha that if I had even one jar left I would offer it to you, but nothing I have would meet your standards.”
The other cultivator muttered ‘every inn this side of the town’ under his breath, only Gu Wen’s hearing picking that up. Perhaps, she thought, it was for the best that she was late. If there had been rich young masters, cultivators or - worse - rich young masters who were cultivators, drinking here over the last few days she might have had trouble.
“You said you just sold the last good jar,” he said aloud. “Perhaps I can buy it from them?”
Gu Wen rolled her eyes as she saw the innkeeper’s gaze flick towards her. The cultivator noticed and he also turned. She gulped down the cup she’d just poured, not wanting to waste it now that this seemed likely to turn into a fight…
“Ah, she’s already drinking,” the man sighed regretfully. “Never mind then.”
…or perhaps not. Gu Wen studied the man’s slumped shoulders and concluded to her surprise that she must have met that rarest of animals: a cultivator who didn’t think he could settle everything with his strength. Then again, he did have the elaborate cord around his high collar that marked him as a disciple of Jade Mountain. Perhaps there was something to their reputation as righteous cultivators.
“Fellow daoist,” she called on impulse. “You seem in need of wine and I have most of a jar left. If our good host can spare you a cup, would you share this with me?”
The offer seemed to take him back a little, but his eyes brightened slightly. “I would be delighted,” he responded. “Permit me to order some snacks.”
“Of course, of course,” the innkeeper said hastily, belly bobbing. He had no doubt been anticipating property damage as a result of two quarrelling cultivators in his common room. “On the house.”
“Not at all,” the Jade Mountain disciple said firmly and slapped some silver taels on the counter. “I hope this will cover it.” No gold from this one, but this wasn’t a surprise. The Jade Mountain weren’t reputed to be miserly, as such, but they weren’t careless with coin either. Legend had it that even their elders counted every copper penny before paying.
The man crossed the common room with long strides and saluted in a formal style. “This Wang Chen thanks you.”
He seemed a decent enough sort, Gu Wen thought and she stood, pushing back her chair so she could return the salute. “This Gu Wen welcomes your company.”
With those formalities done, they took a seat and the innkeeper brought over two clean cups, replacing the one Gu Wen had been drinking from. “A moment longer for the snacks,” he pleaded.
“I will not rush you,” Wang Chen said.
Gu Wen poured out a good measure of wine into each cup. “You have the look of needing this,” she said, pushing one across to the Jade Mountain disciple.
“You have no idea,” he said feelingly. “Your good health.”
“And yours.” They both drank deeply.
“Anything that can trouble a disciple of the noble Jade Mountain sect must alarm a mere loose cultivator such as myself,” Gu Wen observed invitingly.
Wang Chen shook his head. “A private matter only,” he said and sipped from his cup again, then squinted into it as he found it emptied. “I’m looking for my wife.”
She extended the jar and refilled his cup before topping up her own. “You lost her?”
The man sighed. “In a manner of speaking. I haven’t seen her in years now…”
It occurred to Wang Chen that the wine on an empty stomach might have him saying more than he should, particularly to a stranger and he allowed the words to trail off.
Fortunately, the innkeeper arrived just then with two platters of snacks, so he nodded thanks to the man before taking one of the cakes and biting into it. Something to soak up the wine should help, not to mention an excuse not to speak for a moment.
Gu Wen helped herself to the snacks as well and they both chewed companionably for a moment, before lifting their cups at the same moment to wash down what they’d eaten.
“Is she a cultivator?” the woman asked.
I hope so, he thought. She’ll need to have something going for her to pass the sect assessment. Why couldn’t someone have told me she was supposed to go with me?! Why didn’t she write to me?!
He ignored the guilty reminder that he hadn’t written to Tang Ju either.
“No,” he said instead, taking another cake.
“I see why you are worried,” the woman facing him said, but she kindly didn’t raise the speculation that he was sure he’d have heard from some of his martial brothers if they knew his dilemma. If Tang Ju had been putting a green hat on him in his absence… Well, he didn’t know what he’d do. He had to do something, didn’t he?
Preferably before tomorrow morning. There was something about that pressing deadline that felt like doom. A part of him wanted to be out looking for Tang Ju, not drinking in an inn… but he didn’t even have somewhere to start.
Gu Wen swirled the wine in her cup. “To be so distraught, you must be very close.”
“No, not at all.” The words came out without a thought. He’d never confided in anyone, but however unwise it might be, once he began he couldn’t stop himself. “We only met on our wedding day, and never since!”
She whistled thoughtfully and then shook her head. The move whipped her braided hair back and forth. “I don’t understand, then.”
Wang Chen nodded. “No, of course. I shouldn’t drop this on you.”
The loose cultivator shrugged. “I shouldn’t have intruded.”
“You didn’t,” he denied. By the founders, what was he to do? If he couldn’t take his wife home by tomorrow then his mother would…
Inspiration struck him. When they had exchanged salutes earlier, he had seen that she was tall for a woman - his own height, more or less. The one thing he remembered clearly about Tang Ju was that her eyes were level with his own during the ceremony.
The wedding had been negotiated and it had, after all, been over four years.
“Do you,” Wang Chen asked slowly, “Have any plans for the next few days?”
“Not so much,” admitted Gu Wen cautiously. “Why?”
“You might be able to save my life,” he said. “I would need to explain more, in confidence.”
The woman considered him for a moment and then raised her cup. “What sort of daoist sister would I be, to spill the secrets of a man I’ve shared wine with?”
He’d shared wine with Tang Ju. It was part of the wedding ceremony. How sad it was, that he was speaking more to this loose cultivator than he had to his own wife? Wang Chen reached into his qiankun bag and produced five small flags, flicking his hands to scatter them around the table. Under the control of his qi they fanned out evenly to encircle the pair of them and they drew slightly upon him before a dome of light only visible to the pair of them sprang up.
“For privacy,” he explained as Gu Wen watched him over her cup. “It will only obscure what we say within its bounds.”
She nodded.
“I have some talent as a cultivator,” he began, going back to the beginning. “But my family has no connections that support that, we are merchants. Tang Ju - my wife - had a token from the Jade Mountain sect, one that would allow admission as a disciple rather than a mere initiate. An inheritance from her mother, and she had need of a marriage - her father had remarried and…” He tailed off.
“Gain a stepmother, gain a stepfather,” Gu Wen said in understanding.
“I do not say that either would be intentionally cruel, but since she had no brothers thus far…” Wang Chen shrugged. He had rarely considered having children himself. His immortality would lie in other ways, he hoped. “Anyway, we wed, I went to the Jade Mountain and she would stay here. My family had a small house I had used outside of town, suitable for the solitude I had needed as a cultivator.”
The loose cultivator considered this and then tilted her head. “Had?”
He spread his hands. “My understanding was that she would remain there in my family’s care. My understanding, I have since discovered, was not quite that which my family or the Jade Mountain held. I do not know what understanding my wife had. I really should have asked.”
“It seems so, yes. And what understanding did these others have of your marriage?”
Wang Chen lifted his cup and drank from the wine. “The token, I have learned, was for a married couple to enter the sect as disciples.”
Gu Wen’s eyebrows arched. “They thought she was with you.”
“Indeed. No one mentioned this to me, I swear. I can only assume they all thought another had done so.”
“I take it that the resources and other benefits you received as a disciple were calculated accordingly.”
Wine in his mouth was a wonderful excuse to only nod at the shameful admission.
“And no one noticed?” she asked. “I assume this has gone on for years?!”
Wang Chen swallowed. “Initiates would have been under more scrutiny, but I - and by extension, Tang Ju - are disciples. We have more leeway as long as our work is done. I knew I was receiving more supplies than most of my peers, but I was worked harder too and I do not object to working hard.”
“I suppose that a large sect may let some things go through the cracks,” Gu Wen muttered.
“Some things,” he agreed. “But there is an expectation that no more than five years pass without an assessment of progress. And a medical examination. Tang Ju is not overdue, but close enough that a written reminder was sent and, once I received it, I had cause to check my understanding.”
“And you found…”
He shrugged. “Nothing. My family sold the house - why not? To their understanding no one was living there so it was simply costing maintenance and land taxes. And if anyone knows where Tang Ju is, I haven’t found them.”
Gu Wen considered this and then reached out for the snacks. “You’re not the world’s best husband,” she noted, biting into one. After swallowing, she continued, “But it doesn’t sound like you’re the worst. I’m not sure how I can help find her for you though. And how is your life in danger? The Jade Mountain sect is said to be quite measured in their justice.”
“It’s not the sect I’m worried about,” Wang Chen explained. “They’re… I mean, it’s not good, but at worst I’d be fined, thrown out… maybe beaten a bit. Nothing I don’t have coming. But my mother knows I’m in town!”
“And how…” She trailed off. “Oh. Oh you do have a problem.”
“If Tang Ju doesn’t greet her by breakfast tomorrow, my mother will know something is wrong. And then my life is really over!”
Gu Wen ate another cake, chewing thoughtfully. “I can’t argue with that, but I don’t see what you think I can do.”
Wang Chen’s cheeks colored. “You’re about the right height and age - my mother only met Tang Ju once, so -“
“You want me to pretend to be your wife?” she asked incredulously. “I’ve heard some silly pick-up lines in my time but - !”
“I follow the path of abstinence!” he yelped indignantly.
Gu Wen looked him up and down. “No wonder she ran away.”
On the one hand, Gu Wen thought as she walked towards the Wang Mansion on Wang Chen’s arm (the streets were crowded enough that it was a good way of not being separated without pushing back in ways the mortals rushing around might not endure), this was a very bad idea.
On the other hand, it could be a very useful idea if it worked. She had barely begun forming her golden core - ‘only’ being something she was aware would have other loose cultivators choking up blood, given she’d had to start from almost nothing less than five years ago.
The security of being associated with a powerful sect, even temporarily, would be a huge boon.
The mansion was a large one, with many courtyards and she upgraded her estimation of her ‘husband’s’ clan a few notches. He might call them merchants, and they might lack other connections to cultivators, but there were merchants and merchants, with the Wang Clan clearly towards the top of the bunch, at least around here. There weren’t many homes this size in Qingting, and this was among the largest towns in the valleys.
Gu Wen had travelled enough to know that in the more prosperous eastern and central provinces, merchants were looked down on and required the patronage of the nobility to prosper - and it would be a bold merchant willing to show off this much wealth. But here in the northern mountains there was much more latitude, not to mention fewer entrenched noble clans.
She wondered if, a few generations from now, the Wang Clan might claim noble titles themselves. It was possible she might live to see that, although she wasn’t entirely sure she liked the idea. The history of the world she came from had little good to say about aristocracy.
“Try not to be nervous,” Wang Chen muttered.
“I’m not.” Worst case, she’d run. No one but Wang Chen would have a chance of catching her and he’d have other problems.
“You’re tense.” He reached over and rested his free hand on hers, looking like a husband concerned for his wife. He was a good actor, she thought. “I can tell and mother will too.”
Gu Wen couldn’t argue with that, exactly. “I didn’t grow up with these formalities,” she reminded him. “If I put a foot wrong you’ll be in much more trouble than I am.”
“Everyone knows cultivators have one eye on the heavens and may not entirely follow mortal customs,” Wang Chen muttered. “It’s been years so being rusty will be forgivable.” She would have preferred it if he’d not added “I hope” after that.
Another reason for not pushing ahead on her own but clinging to Wang Chen’s arm was the silk dress Gu Wen wore. It had been bought just the day before, fitted to her in haste. More powerful cultivators might be willing to travel in such finery, but Gu Wen was more used to sturdy padded cotton and leather that could survive her adventures. The only thing that marked the dress as that of someone on the path of immortality were the earthly green and brown colours traditional to the Jade Mountain sect, and the embroidered knots of a disciple upon her collar.
As the (temporary) couple reached the gates, a servant posted there straightened sharply and beat firmly on the wooden panels with a club. “The young master comes,” he called. “Welcome Master Wang Chen and his wife!”
Although the hour was still early, the doors were yanked open and two more servants searched out the pair in he crowd on the streets. The young men’s faces lit up. “Master Wang Chen!” they chorused, dipping into deep bows. “Welcome home! Mrs Wang, welcome home!”
Gu Wen saw heads turn towards them as if they were celebrities, which - she supposed - they were.
Wang Chen stepped forwards and guided her out of the street’s throng and into the open space between the gates. “Shun. Temu. Gun,” he greeted each of them in turn, inclining his head slightly. “I am home.”
From the smiles that spread across their faces, the young master was well liked. As the gates slammed shut behind them, the din of Qingteng’s streets was hardly diminished. To the north, she saw two large brick warehouses, likely the most secure stores of the Wang clan’s business, but this was a more gentle courtyard, carefully raked gravel around a single pine tree that stood at the heart of it. Gates led north, east and south - the north clearly into a stable.
“Old Master Wang sent word that he wanted to speak to you as soon as you arrived,” the man who had been waiting outside - Shun - explained, gesturing south.
“I understand,” Wang Chen said agreeably. “Please send word that I will be there as soon as I have escorted my wife to the ladies courtyard.”
Shun bowed again. “A thousand apologies, master, but he did say ‘as soon’.”
“Oh…” Wang Chen made a face.
Well, the plan had lasted until they reached the gates of the mansion. That was honestly about as well as Gu Wen had expected. “I am sure someone can guide me to Madame Wang, husband.” She forced a smile, hoping the veil would make it seem gracious.
“Of course,” Shun assured them immediately. “Temu, fetch one of the maids to escort Mrs Wang.”
The young man - he must have been only a boy when Wang Chen was last here - darted off while Wang Chen looked uncomfortably at Shun. “I entrust my wife to you, Shun.”
This time the servant exchanged a martial salute with him. “It is my honour, young master!”
Gu Wen watched as the young master went south, likely to his father’s office which might be in that quarter of the mansion, then turned and saw Shun studying her discreetly. In response, she arched an eyebrow and said nothing.
“Ah,” he coloured. “It is just, the young master has grown close to you, Mrs Wang. I have never seen him so reluctant to leave anyone’s company.”
Was that how it appeared? “We do not always spend much time together in the sect,” Gu Wen said, without directly answering. It was true, technically, even if it implied more than was true.
The servant let a proud smile creep onto his face. “I am sorry that you will be parted briefly then, Mrs Wang. But no doubt he will come quickly to your side again.”
He’d better, she thought. But Temu returned, almost pulling a maid behind him. From the damp cuffs of the girl’s sleeves, she had likely been working on something. Gu Wen smelt soap and guessed it was laundry.
“Mrs Wang,” the maid greeted her, bowing deeply. “Permit this humble Baihe to lead you to Madame Wang.”
“By all means.” Gu Wen folded her hands into her sleeves, hiding any nervous tension around her knuckles, and followed the girl, trying to avoid the long strides she was accustomed to and match the shorter near-shuffle of the maid.
Baihe guided her eastwards through the gateway, and then south through a complex of well furnished rooms, perhaps used for receiving guests. But there was no sign of Madame Wang, or even of other women of rank.
They went east and crossed another courtyard before entering a succession of dining halls that opened off each other in succession - no doubt opened and closed to provide a dining space of size suited to the number of guests. As they walked through the third such chamber, Gu Wen’s ears caught the sound of women’s voices north of them, outside. But Baihe led her past them, turning back on herself to go further south.
To the best of Gu Wen’s hearing there was almost no one ahead of them, and the few voices she heard were men’s - and a floor above, perhaps higher. “Are you taking me to the ladies’ courtyard?” she asked drily. “Or shall I make my own way?”
“This is the shortest route, Mrs Wang.”
Gu Wen arched an eyebrow and then turned upon her heel, heading north without a word.
“Mrs Wang,” the girl called nervously. “Please, I am…”
It didn’t take more than a minute to find a door that led out of the dining hall and out onto a veranda that looked out over an interior courtyard. A small shallow pond filled the southern half, a pavilion extending out from the northern lawn to it. Gu Wen could see a greying matriarch seated there, at a table set for four. She had but two companions, both older than Gu Wen but a good generation junior to the woman in the tall-backed bamboo chair.
“Baihe,” the cultivator said quietly. “If you wish to tell me that the lady in the pavilion is not Madame Wang, be very sure of yourself.”
One of the women in the pavilion must have seen her, because she turned her head. A moment later, the older woman craned her own head around and smiled.
The maid cringed. “Mrs Wang, that is indeed the Madame…”
Gu Wen cut her off with a sweep of her hand. “The explanations for your guidance are malice, stupidity, or a test. Perhaps more than one of those. Do you wish me to investigate which?”
That got a gulp from Baihe. “Forgive me,” she whispered.
“I will endeavor to forget you,” she replied casually and then hopped up to the height of the rail separating the veranda from the pond. She kicked off with one slippered foot, skimming forwards, needing only to step once upon the mirror-like water to reach the other side. She didn’t look behind to be sure she hadn’t caused ripples - if she had then it would be better to own that. Still, the slipper didn’t feel wet.
On the lawn it was easy for her to reach the small bridge to the pavilion. “Do I have the honor of greeting Madame Wang?” she asked, bowing to the elder.
The smile grew crooked. “That is so, young lady.”
“This humble Tang Ju craves forgiveness for not presenting herself sooner.” She wasn’t sure she sounded humble, she didn’t much like the welcome she was getting.
“Do forgive Baihe,” the matriarch said mildly. She gestured to the one free seat. “She would have got you here eventually.”
A test, Gu Wen concluded. Had she passed or failed? She didn’t know. Still… Rather than taking a seat, she glanced at the cups in front of the women. The two who had not spoken yet - likely her sisters-in-law - had barely touched their tea, but Madame Wang’s was empty. “May I serve you?” she asked, indicating the teapot on the table.
Madame Wang’s smile grew subtle. “I would be glad.”
Gu Wen lifted the teapot, testing the temperature. Beginning to cool. She had learned ways to handle this without a fire - it was a middling elemental exercise to energize the water and render it back to near boiling. Without hesitation, she filled the clean cup before her with fresh tea. Setting down the teapot, Gu Wen lifted the cup in both hands and placed it before Wang Chen’s mother, bowing as she did so.
“So filial,” Madame Wang congratulated her. “But please sit, it hurts my neck to look up at you.”
As Gu Wen sat, a servant came forward and took the used cup from Madame Wang before placing a fresh cup in front of the new arrival, serving her from the same teapot she had just heated.
“It is good to see you back in Qingting, Tang Ju,” the woman to the Madame’s left said. “Have you and Chen been happy in the Jade Mountain sect?”
“Happy?” she said slowly. “Life is not usually all of a kind, but the last few years have been good to me overall. As for my husband, I think he enjoys life in the sect.”
Madame Wang blew on her tea lightly. “Yes, life does have ups and downs.” Her eyes flickered to the woman who had spoken. “It has been several years, so let me re-introduce Sheng Borta, who is married to my oldest son, and -” A wave of her free hand to the third woman. “- and Tsen Jiang, the wife of my husband’s nephew Cheng.” Her lips quirked. “And yes, it causes much confusion with Chen. Beware of that with your husband. The men of the Wang Clan are not always imaginative.”
According to the earlier explanation she’d had, Wang Cheng was the oldest of his generation, then Wang Chen’s elder brother Huang and finally Wang Chen himself. “Have your lives been treating you well?” she asked.
Sheng Borta sat back. “More than they have not, much as yours,” she answered. “Our husbands are in and out of Qingteng, as Master Wang’s hands and feet. The children keep us busy as well.”
Tsen Jiang said nothing, only nodding. Perhaps she was content to leave the wife of the family heir to speak for both of them.
“How many do you have?” Gu Wen enquired politely. “Was it five between you?”
Another nod from Tsen Jiang, but Sheng Borta tilted her head slightly. “Are you going to be adding to that number soon, dear sister?”
There was an edge to the question and the fake-wife wondered if she should rise to it: “Wang Chen’s cultivation method requires abstinence,” she said quietly. “Until his golden core is complete it would endanger his cultivation and perhaps his life. We have some time.”
“You didn’t say that your cultivation method requires that,” observed Sheng Borta.
Oh you bitch, Gu Wen thought. She’d heard worse in cultivator markets, but the implication she might be seeking out extra-marital substitutes for the lawful husband’s attention… It reminded her too much of some of the girls at college. “It doesn’t,” she said out loud and then smiled. “Now that Wang Chen feels I can take missions outside the sect without too much danger, perhaps I will meet your husbands on the road.”
Madame Wang sipped majestically from her tea cup, clearly far too composed to splutter with laughter. Tsen Jiang’s cheeks flushed and Sheng Borta…
She giggled. “Very nice,” she said appreciatively. “I should apologize, but we didn’t have a chance to take your measure before, and you do represent our family now.”
“You should apologize,” Gu Wen replied evenly, knowing that the other woman would not.
Her mother-in-law lowered her tea cup to the table. “So, tell us about your life in the Jade Mountain sect,” she suggested. “It must be ever so much more entertaining than those we lead here.”
“Ah, my favorite topic: myself!” she exclaimed, knowing that this would be the most dangerous part of the deception. While it was unlikely that any of the other three women had visited the great sect’s territory, tales about it spread naturally so it would be easy to set a foot wrong. But being too cautious would be suspicious. “As disciples, we had more freedom to move around than initiates do. I think Wang Chen hadn’t considered being married very much until it happened, so after we arrived he decided he would collect all the material allowances and select our tasks for me…”
“Ah,” sighed the women, apparently well familiar with Wang men believing they could do everything.
“Save me,” Gu Wen said softly as soon as Wang Chen arrived in the ladies courtyard. Then she fell dramatically into his arms.
What was she doing?! He barely caught her in an awkward embrace, flushing at the display of what must look like affection to everyone. “Tang Ju!” he hissed, face hot. “My mother’s here.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. It’s good one of you has some sense of romance,” his mother told him, not rising from her high-backed chair. Wang Chen saw more grey in her hair than he remembered, and castigated himself for not visiting sooner.
Of course, she would have asked after Tang Ju then and he would have probably known too little to cover it up… so perhaps it was for the best.
“Greetings, brother.” Sheng Borta called out. She rose, as did Tsen Jiang - the other woman wordless as usual, though she bowed just as the other wife did. “Our new sister needs your support, she has had to deal with all of us.”
If his hands weren’t busy, he’d have covered his eyes. “I wish that father hadn’t called me away quite so insistently…”
“Why do you think I made sure that he did?” his mother told him. “Don’t worry, she didn’t give us too many embarrassing stories about you.”
“Mother!” Wang Chen wasn’t sure if Gu Wen was crying or laughing as she leant against him. What had she made up? He was going to have to back those stories up!
“Five years and still at the honeymoon stage,” teased his brother Huang’s wife. “I’m a little envious.”
“No one is stopping you from going with Wang Huang next time he leaves on business,” his mother told her drily. “I’m not quite so old that I can’t keep the children and the maids in line.”
The senior wife of his generation nodded thoughtfully at the idea. “Perhaps I will.”
“I hear that there is an auction to be held today,” Wang Chen asserted, as if he’d heard it from his father. Which he had, with a little prompting! Gu Wen had told him first though. “Of cultivation materials gathered locally, and perhaps the work of some independent crafters as well. Would you like to go?”
“It might be interesting to compare to the sect,” the woman in his arms said, regaining some of her composure.
His mother gave him a sharp look, but rather than protesting, she said: “It sounds like a nice outing for you both. See if you can pick up some ivory leaf tea for me, if you see any. It’s good for avoiding ailments, you know..”
They grew ivory leaf tea at the Jade Mountain, which everyone here knew. Even Gu Wen, who smacked him lightly on the arm. “We should have brought some,” she chided.
“There’s no need to bring it all this way,” Wang Chen’s mother demurred, but he knew that meant that he should have and had better do so next time he visited.
It didn’t take much longer to extricate themselves from the conversation, with the excuse that it would be best to see the displayed goods before the auction actually began. By the time Wang Chen led Gu Wen out of the ladies’ courtyard, he was feeling a little more forgiving about being asked to save her. He had wished, more than once, to be saved from such social occasions when he was younger. The visit was bringing back sour memories as well as sweet ones.
One of the maids crossing their path squeaked and made a sharp detour at the sight of them.
“What was that about?” he wondered under his breath.
“I couldn’t possibly say.”
“DId you do something to her?”
“Not a thing,” Gu Wen assured him. “She doesn’t know I won’t though.”
“Oh. Do I want to know why?”
“It’s a woman thing.”
He pencilled that in as something he didn’t want to know and took a direct route through the corridors towards the gate. Gu Wen was still holding his arm, matching his pace easily. Wang Chen couldn’t help but notice that she walked with more confidence than he was used to, even in his martial sisters of the Jade Mountain sect.
“Going out again, young master?” asked Shun, pulling open the door.
He nodded. “Down to the auction house.”
“Ah… I hear there are a lot of loose cultivators there today,” the door guard warned. “I know you’re a mighty expert yourself now, but loose cultivators can band up on occasion.” He lowered his voice. “It might not be the best place for a fair flower like the young Mrs Wang.”
“With three of the bands present, we should be safe enough,” Gu Wen told him cheerfully. “If the Bone Wolves caused us trouble, the Iron Wind and the Ivory Fang would turn on them rather than invite involvement by the Jade Mountain sect - and the same if one of them was so foolish. And all three will keep the independents from doing anything too foolish.”
Shun blinked at the upbeat reply. “You know the ground then. My apologies for the presumption.” And he offered her a martial salute.
“The words were kindly meant.” She released Wang Chen’s arm and returned the salute, before taking hold. “How would I not wish to know of my husband’s hometown?”
Wang Chen wondered who the Iron Wind were. He knew of the Bone Wolves and Ivory Fang - the two groups sometimes hired out as caravan guards in the area - but he thought that the other two significant groups in the area were the Wind Talon and the Blood Banner gangs.
It had been more than four years though. Perhaps they had moved on, or broken up. The Young Master of the Wang Clan reminded himself that he should keep closer tabs and visit more often… although he’d need an excuse for Tang Ju’s absence, unless he could find her.
They entered the streets, finding the flow of traffic barely less than previously, but much of those walking were heading for the markets so it was less of a struggle for them now. Wang Chen was startled when Gu Wen released his arm and he reached out instinctively to make sure they weren’t swept away.
“What?” she asked, hands raised to pull her hair up into a it’s braid again
“Oh…” he broke off embarrassed. “Let me get that for you.”
Her smile grew slightly mocking. “Your pardon, brother Chen, but I think you may not be familiar with managing a lady’s hair.” Then she winked. “But if we step to the side a moment, I may lean on you as I change into boots. These slippers are very nice but not the most practical.”
“Yes, as you say.” Thankful that she had saved him a little face, Wang Chen followed her lead to the side and soon found himself holding a delicate pair of lady’s slippers in one hand as Gu Wen stamped her feet lightly to settle them inside her boots. After a moment, she pulled out the light leather cuirass she had worn when they first met and laced it up over the dress.
“Do you think that you’ll need that?” he asked, holding out the slippers.
“It’s more likely I won’t if I wear it,” the loose cultivator explained. “You paid for those,” she added, indicating the slippers.
“Keep them,” he said. “They won’t fit me and who knows about Tang Ju?”
Gu Wen gave him a look, but then accepted the footwear, making them vanish into the ring on one finger. Wang Chen had admired it earlier - such rings didn’t have noticeably more space than his qiankun bag (if any), but they were sturdier and there was convenience to being closer to hand. They were noticeably more expensive though.
Taking his arm again they went out into the street, now lined by stalls and shopfronts as they got closer to the centre of Qingteng.
The auction house had a prime location, right on the main square, but reaching it meant threading through the lines of stalls and the crowds of shoppers. Wang Chen was reminded of the press of the storehouses at Jade Mountain, where racks of various supplies were densely packed and initiates sent to fetch and carry might fill an aisle to capacity, trying to get around to what they were seeking.
At last they burst out into the more or less clear space in front of the auction house steps. Four uniformed guards were holding back the crowds with composed glares, giving customers a chance to straighten up before they went inside. There was a flattering moment of recognition as Wang Chen saw the nearest guard recognise the Jade Mountain markings of his collar - he had attended for the Wang clan before but never got the respectful nod he received now.
“Keep hold of your coin pouch,” Gu Wen warned. “The prices may run higher today than they would otherwise, with a Jade Mountain disciple here and potentially paying out.”
“We don’t necessarily need to buy from here, I wouldn’t think it would matter much.”
She shrugged slightly. “Hope springs eternal, in this case of a rich sucker who can be fleeced..”
“I shall rely on your protection then,” Wang Chen told her sagely as they entered the slightly cooler and much quieter outer hall of the auction house. It was brightly lit by ten glowing crystals hung from the ceiling on chains, and several dozen customers were browsing the selection laid out on cloth-covered tables for inspection. Almost as many guards were inconspicuously watching them and every table had at least two attendants who might not be fighters, but would certainly raise an alarm if anything was touched without carefully monitored consent. It would not do the house any favors if something was stolen before it could be sold.
“If they have any ivory leaf then it will be on the left,” Gu Wen told him, nodding slightly in that direction.
That much Wang Chen knew, but he wasn’t going to argue. “Thank you,” he said and they veered in the direction indicated.
The pair had almost reached the tables handling spiritual herbs when he felt Gu Wen’s hand tighten around his forearm.
“Trouble?” he asked, glancing up.
“The expected,” she said with a barely perceptible nod towards three men wearing white scarves around their heads, the loose tails hanging down over their left ears. Ivory Fangs, he noted, and they had the lean and hungry look he’d learned from his father to watch out for when bargaining. Still, they were presumably here on business and there were other men nearby who wore the fanged necklaces marking members of the Bone Wolves. “I trust you’re ready.”
“I am,” Wang Chen assured, hoping this wouldn’t turn into a fight. Even if he wasn’t at fault at all, one of the senior disciples would make a point of talking to him about any incidents here, just to be sure, and that was attention he didn’t need right now. Besides, there were three of them and it occurred to him belatedly that the Bone Wolves (and whoever the Iron Wind were) piling in might be too late to avoid injury.
For now they proceeded as planned when he agreed to reciprocate Gu Wen’s help with his family, ignoring the three and crossing the rest of the way to the table. There was no ivory leaf on this one, so they turned to the next but this must have brought them across the line of vision because a moment later:
“Ah, Gu Wen! The heavens have smiled and reunited us!” the tallest of the three Ivory Fangs declared, stepping closer to them. His friends were flanking him and they were also smiling in a friendly fashion… though the speaker’s smile began to slip as he saw that Gu Wen’s hand was on Wang Chen’s arm.
“Friends of yours?” Wang Chen asked in a neutral fashion. Gu Wen kicked his ankle lightly, masking the move with her skirts, and he added “Dear,” with what he hoped was not a significant pause.
“Fellow daoists of the Ivory Fang band,” she acknowledged. “We have shared hunting camps up in the north-eastern valleys. Bai Nao and his martial brothers Gu Leng and Shai Han.”
“Ah,” he nodded and made a polite salute towards them. “I am pleased you were in good company in the mountains, dear. I do worry.”
“And may I ask your identity, fellow daoist?” Bai Nao asked, with an obvious glance at Wang Chen’s collar.
He was about to answer, but an unwelcome voice cut across the room. “Junior Brother Chen! Can this be your ever-elusive wife?”
The sense of doom was worse than when he’d realized he had no wife to present to his mother. Wang Chen’s head turned around and he saw an elegantly-dressed jade beauty approaching, her garb (the traditional earth tones rendered up to emerald and jasper compared to normal dyes) far finer than that he had bought for Gu Wen’s deception, instantly identifiable heirloom veil covering her lower face yet leaving her fully recognisable even if her height and… shape, hadn’t given her away. “Senior sister Zhang Yun,” he exclaimed and then saluted the younger woman with the utmost formality.
That was what you did when you were meeting the young mistress of the Jade Mountain sect. Fortunately Gu Wen took the hint and also bowed very deeply.
(There was a strangled “wife?!” from Bai Nao).
The youngest child and only daughter of the widely feared Jade Bear stepped closer, golden ornaments in her hair chiming slightly as she walked. “Well, you are a tall one,” she said assessingly. “There has been a fair bit of speculation about why you never came to tea with your martial sisters, but I can at least put to rest the theory that you had looks to be ashamed of.”
“I’m pleased that you think so,” Gu Wen replied politely.
Wang Chen had never imagined that Zhang Yun would recognise him, much less be curious about his wife. Worse, attention followed the beauty like moths to a flame so now they were drawing looks from all around the hall. “Tang Ju,” he said to the woman on his arm, “I haven’t been keeping you from making friends with your martial sisters, have I?”
The loose cultivator was smooth, he had to admit. “I think we must blame my expeditions here for keeping my schedule different, dear,” she said without missing a beat.
“W-wait, who is Tang Ju?” Bai Nao burst out, pointing at them. “This is Gu Wen! And since when were you married?!”
Was this idiot going to wreck the deception? Wang Chen turned sharply towards him, a rush of ki running through his meridians with greater than usual force.
The three Ivory Fangs took a half step back, but their hands dropped to weapons…
“I fear we must admit the truth,” Gu Wen said ruefully and Wang Chen’s heart sank. Not that he could blame her: the young mistress’ temper was well known and it was understandable that Gu Wen wouldn’t want to risk drawing it on herself. “I may have taken more excursions here than is strictly allowed for a disciple, Lady Zhang Yun, so I adopted a different name for the purpose.”
…what?
The young mistress blinked, and then giggled musically, raising one hand to her veil. “Oh, really. I am shocked. Shocked, I say! To think that the mysterious Mrs. Wang has such an adventurous spirit! You must come and sit with me for the auction!”
“Of course.” Gu Wen elbowed Wang below the ribs. “We would be honoured.”
“Bah, I am lonely,” Zhang Yun declared, a statement that drew the attention of every red-blooded man in the hall. “My maids have been reassigned so I had to come here with only a few guards. It will let us get to know each other!”
Her maids, Wang Chen thought miserably, were reassigned because she threw an initiate out of one of the sect’s airships when she thought he was courting her too forcibly. That was the rumor he had heard, anyway. The poor boy had needed months to recover.
The auction had gone well, by certain measures, thought Gu Wen.
Bai Nao looked as if he’d sworn off sniffing around her skirts, which was good. Even if he’d been mad enough to try, his comrades would see that word got back and the leader of the Ivory Fangs would not risk one of his followers trying to put a green hat on a Jade Mountain disciple.
(It was possible Bai Nao might also shift attention to Lady Zhang Yun, who was certainly beautiful enough to have that effect. Gu Wen was a little envious of the younger woman’s curves, but not so much of the attention that evidently came with them. Wang Chen was about the only man who hadn’t been focused entirely on the young mistress).
They had even acquired some ivory leaf tea for Madame Wang at no cost at all to Wang Chen, since the young mistress had insisted on bidding for (and buying it) as a greeting gift. Of course, Gu Wen had then had to offer a greeting gift back so now she was out of pocket…
But exchanging gifts with the young mistress of the Jade Mountain sect? That sort of connection was beyond price! If Gu Wen had it right, the girl had imperial blood on her mother’s side.
On the other hand… “On the fingers of one hand, how screwed are we?” she asked Wang Chen as they made their escape after the auction.
The man considered the question seriously and then raised four fingers on both hands at once.
Eight out of five… “I was hoping for less than that,” she admitted.
“It’s just barely possible that I might be able to persuade my mother and sisters-in-law that their memory of you is mistaken and re-introduce Tang Ju,” he allowed.
“If she’s willing,” she interrupted.
“Yes, and if she’s alive.” Wang Chen’s pace hastened. “That could be a few years from now though. Tang Ju needs to attend her examinations in no more than six months - less really, since the young mistress thinks she’s met her. And since she said she’ll ‘pay attention to your progress’...”
“If that isn’t me, she’ll know.”
“Her wrath is famed for good reason,” he told her. “You might be able to get away if you start running right now, but we’re talking about not coming back to the northern mountains for centuries.”
“Yes, I imagine she’d remember the slight of fooling her for a very long time,” she agreed. “So we have only a few options left.”
“Such as?”
Gu Wen kept one hand on his arm, fearing that Wang Chen would simply flee at this point. Not from the entire situation, but like a horse pushed too far he felt like his nerves were on so edge that he’d run just to be doing something, doing anything! “There are basically two. Firstly, we give up and throw ourselves on her mercy. She would have the resources to potentially find Tang Ju. But that does risk an overreaction from her.”
“I shouldn’t have dragged you into this,” he murmured. Too little, too late.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have agreed, but you didn’t drag me. Whether we like it or not, we’re in this together now,” Gu Wen told him resolutely. “The other option is to double down.”
His head jerked around, hope blooming.
“We’d still need to find the real Tang Ju or what happened to her, and pray she’s willing to be the one who leaves,” she warned. “You owe her that much, at least.”
“If she’s left thoroughly enough that there’s no trace then she might go for that,” Wang Chen said slowly. “I wish I knew her better!”
“If you did then you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Gu Wen pointed out tartly, though she tried to stay quiet enough not to be overheard by those around them on the street. “But yes. She might need compensation. Or, if she wants to join the sect maybe we could claim some transformative effect. It’s not unheard of when forming the core.”
He rubbed his chin. “Hard to say without knowing her ki and how she would shape up as a cultivator,” he allowed. “Would you mind that though? Living a lie?”
Gu Wen looked him over. He was rich, presentable… kind of an idiot, but that went with being a young man. “It’s not like we’ll be expected to actually fuck,” she said crudely, “What with your cultivation method.”
Wang Chen’s face flooded with crimson. “Well… no,” he admitted. “But… I don’t even know how to ask!”
She cracked a grin at that. “While most women claiming a disinterest in the process are probably lying, the fact is that there are plenty of ways to enjoy yourself privately.”
The young master refused to meet her eyes. “And what if you fall headlong in love with some handsome fellow?”
“That would be falling headlong in lust,” Gu Wen said, remembering certain ill-advised decisions of her past that were now thankfully a literal world away. “In which case, kindly remind me that my continued well-being requires not being known as a wandering wife.”
“You don’t believe in love?”
“Of course I do,” she said with the ample assurance of a woman entering her twenties for the second time. “But love takes work. Love at first sight is a cliche hack writers use to skip past the starting stages of a romantic novel.”
The Jade Mountain sect was, as the name suggested, built upon a mountain. Not of jade, fortunately, or jade wouldn’t be half as precious as it was. It was, after all, a very large mountain.
Despite this, and a location that was rather remote, it was far busier than Qingting. There were thousands of initiates either in class, working the fields or rushing between them. Feeding that many people took every fertile ledge and valley on the mountain, and working those fields pushed the numbers needed up…
It was a constant balancing act, Wang Chen had discovered. As a disciple, he focused more on his cultivation than most initiates, but he still had to do his share of work. And, raised in a merchant family, he had a good enough head for numbers that he’d become one small cog in the system of making the calculations that were kept constantly updated for the number of people being fed, the amount of food being grown, in storage and that might need to be bought and brought in.
Given the Jade Mountain’s location, even shipping food in from Qingting and towns like it was an effort. They went through tons - literal tons - of food every day.
If they couldn’t eat, they couldn’t work. If they couldn’t work, there was no food to eat… Elder Ong Mao, who oversaw the administration called that the cold equation…
Right now, Wang Chen wasn’t in a frame of mind to process such work. It was embarrassing, but he’d been looking at the same page for much of an hour.
“Hah!”
He looked up and saw that Ong Mao was leaning on the side of his desk. “Ah, Elder!”
She smirked at his panic. “It’s your wife’s examination today, isn’t it?”
“Uh, yes?” How did she know that?!
The steel-haired woman (literally, it was like stiff wire, rising like a hedgehog’s spikes from her head) snorted. “We do talk to each other at times, you know. And little Yun-Yun was quite happy to meet a martial sister almost as tall as she is.”
Wang Chen covered his eyes. “I’m sorry, Elder. I’ll get back to work.”
“No no.” She reached over and took the brush from his hand. “You can only do what you can do. The cold equations can wait one more day. Why don’t you go wait for her results?”
“But…”
Elder Ong Mao shook her head, the iron spikes barely swaying. “You work hard enough for two already. Besides, I’d have trouble giving you more than a couple of contribution points for how little you’ve managed today. Take a break. You obviously need one.”
He looked down at the page in front of him and couldn’t argue. “Thank you, Elder,” Wang Chen answered. He stood and gave her a formal salute, then reached down to pack up his work.
The Elder shook his hand and took the papers. “I’ll see to this. I think you can trust me, is that right?”
“Of course.” He couldn’t argue and instead backed away, bowing before heading out of the door, which led directly out into the mountain air. For a moment, he paused and inhaled the cold air, looking down from the railed walkway that circled the pagoda tower where Ong Mao’s clerks worked. Each floor had to be reached by this walkway which had stairs every full circuit of the tower - it was too small to conveniently use internal space for stairs. Most of the buildings he could see similarly clung to spurs and spires of rock, rather than use ground that could be cultivated.
The medical tower was easily in view - it was an angular construction two ridges away, but taller than the row of low classrooms that occupied the intervening rocky outcrop. Wang Chen had asked why that relatively large area wasn’t used for larger buildings once, and was told the ground below had been mined out and wasn’t sturdy enough for more than light buildings.
It still had to be used, of course. Every usable square inch of the mountain had to be.
One day, Wang Chen thought, seeing a figure moving through the sky. One day I will simply fly across these divides.
This was not that day though, so he had to descend the stairs and find himself a path across the elevated walkways that crossed the fields between him and the classrooms. The wooden planking, strung together with rope, was supported only at each end and a single pair of pillars at the midway. At the lowest point of the path he close, Wang Chen’s feet were perhaps four chi above the soil being worked by the initiates below. He saw a hand reach up from one of the young men tending to the medicinal herbs and paused, seeing that the initiate had set out his tools on the walkway.
“Trowel?” he asked, crouching to pick it up and extend it to the questing hand.
“Thanks,” the youth said in a thick accent, barely looking up as he accepted the tool, using his other hand to wipe his brow as he did so. Then the initiate blinked and his face reddened. “I mean,” he cleared his throat, “Thank you, senior brother,” he finished, with barely a trace of the accent.
Wang Chen smiled. “No, martial brother. Thank you for your work.” He looked up at the sun and then added: “And you may wish to wear a hat like your peers. Even if you’re used to the mountain sun, it can be hard on the eyes. You wouldn’t want to be unable to read your lessons.”
That got a laugh. “You make a good point, senior brother. I will be sure to do that in future.”
“Good man. I wish you well on the examinations.” Wang Chen didn’t know the initiate offhand, but from his age he must have been here since the last recruitment drive, meaning he would be getting close to the cut-off for passing the tests to be a disciple. Not unlike what Gu Wen was going through, if geared more to someone just at the start of their journey.
Leaving the man behind, he walked up the curve of the walkway to the classrooms and then up the stairs built into the wall that led to a walkway across the roof of the structure - again, no wasting floorspace with a passage that led through the building
A second walkway led off up towards a cliff-face that had been burrowed into, but Wang Chen ignored it and crossed quickly over to the medical tower.
“Are you injured?” an initiate with one arm in a sling asked from where she sat behind a counter-window facing the entrance. The near-white rough silk of the sling contrasted with the green of her outer robe and her hair was secured under a headscarf.
“No, thank you. My wife is here for an examination,” the disciple explained.
“Oh, congratulations.” The young woman brightened up. “I wish you a healthy child.”
Wang Chen hesitated, brought up short. “Uh… the disciple’s exams, not that sort of exam.”
She flushed. “I’m sorry. Well, perhaps next time.”
Even if he found Tang Ju and she was interested, that wouldn’t be for a long time, he thought. Once he had his core established, he would need a suitable cultivation method to build up further and that might not require abstinence. Probably not, really, but he’d not really looked into them in detail. Elder Ong Mao recommended not contemplating that until one was past the mid-point of core formation and could consider shaping the final formation for future advances. “He who focuses on the horizon misses the cliff-edge beneath their feet,” she had warned them.
“One can hope,” he said mildly to the embarrassed initiate. “Where should I go to wait?”
She checked something on her desk. “Disciple evaluations,” (she emphasized that word just a little) “Are on the top floor. Please take the elevator as high as you can.”
Wang Chen had thought as much and was a little thrilled by the idea, to tell the truth. He walked along the edge of the tower’s balcony to where five pillars contained the elevator. A simple platform of stone carved with complex formations, the wonder of the elevator wasn’t that it functioned - most formation masters could create a moving platform. The impressive feat was that it did so under the direction of those using it, not according to a pre-set sequence of movements. The elevator had been operating for over a century without significant maintenance. That wouldn't be a surprise in some ruin where no one used it, but this was worked hard.
He tapped the bell waiting next to the entrance and could feel the qi pulse just as he heard the tinkle of the clapper inside.
A moment later and the platform descended between the pillars, the formation carvings on the underside glowing slightly to Wang Chen’s vision (his understanding was that mortals would just see the carved lines in the stone). To his delight, the elevator stopped at the floor above to take on passengers, giving him a precious few moments to examine the intricate work.
He didn’t experience a breakthrough in his understanding - such was quite rare, or students would be parked under it at all times - but the young man did notice some new details in the formation and made a mental note to enquire during his next class on the subject. Practical examples were always preferred, and a formation master who could craft something like the elevator would be able to make a name for themselves on commissions.
After a brief pause, the platform descended to Wang Chen’s level, and a pair of medical disciples stepped off. He had to back against the wall to let them pass him, and then hopped on, studying the bell-pulls hung from the ceiling by each pillar. The shortest of the five had the handle hung highest and when he pulled upon it, the complex workings interpreted that signal and began to raise the platform from where it lay against the second-lowest floor up to the highest available.
Wang Chen stood in the centre and wondered what Gu Wen made of the elevator. As a loose cultivator she might have not seen the like before.
It took only a few heartbeats for the platform to rise up to where a simple roof kept the worst of rain off it. Wang Chen was able to step off it and onto the roof of the main tower. This wasn’t as high as the medical tower went though, a further pagoda tower rose twice as high. Building the entire structure higher would have affected the feng shui and so only an eight-sided tower continued up.
Like the one he worked in, it was circled by a walkway that featured regular stairs. Following this took Wang Chen up and up. He ignored the views, the thought of Gu Wen having raised his concerns. She was literate, at least. It was hard to be a serious cultivator working from oral lessons. But she had admitted that outside of the occasional cultivation texts, most of her reading was cheaply printed romances rather than the classics of someone with a proper education.
It shouldn’t make much difference, but Wang Chen knew some of his own tutors would look down on someone who couldn’t recite passages from those respected pillars of civilized culture. Would that be the case here too?
Almost before he knew it, he had reached the top level of the pagoda and found the door closed, with seals keeping anyone outside from hearing conversations inside. The brass door panel glowed invitingly to the eyes of those who could see the qi of the formation, obvious for anyone wishing to break the seal and make themselves known. Not willing to give offense, he did no such thing of course, and simply turned to lean on the rail and waited. Casting his mind into well-trod mantras of cultivation to distract himself from the questioning that must be taking place within.
The sun was high in the sky when he heard the seal break.
Wang Chen turned just in time to see the double doors swing inward to reveal the forbidding face of Zhang Ying. His back stiffened instinctively as the sword mistress walked out, face as stoic and unreadable as ever. She gave him the barest glance - though undoubtedly taking in every detail of his stance - and for a moment he thought she might speak.
But no, she walked past him and down the stairs without any change to her expression.
He suppressed a shiver and saw Gu Wen had followed the lady of the Sect out of the door. Her shoulders were slightly slumped and the outer robe around those shoulders had wrinkles that suggested she’d spent some time seated with it pressed against the chair.
“How did you do?” he asked her.
His - accomplice, was the only word - gave him a sharp look. “I’m fine, dear. How was your morning?”
That got a chuckle from the two senior disciples inside. Wang Chen had enough focus to note that this was probably a good sign. “I was distracted,” he admitted. “I’d imagine that how yours went was influenced by the exams. The evaluation,” he corrected.
“Poor you.” Gu Wen reached over and adjusted the front of his robe slightly. She kept doing that and he didn’t know why. Still, it seemed to pass without comment from the other disciples so he put up with it. “I have a list of advice on how to tighten up my cultivation, a reading list to take to the library and a formal reprimand.”
He had been relaxing up until the last part. “A reprimand?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” the woman said teasingly, “But apparently I drink too much.”
“You drink too much,” he repeated.
She nodded. “To the point I have a formal reprimand and I’m to have another evaluation in two years to show that I have it under control.”
“Is it serious?”
“I should probably water my wine more.” Gu Wen’s veil puffed out slightly as she exhaled in vexation. “But I didn’t know it could be a problem for cultivators in the first place, so better to know.”
“That is one of the reasons we hold these evaluations,” the lone man among the evaluators told them. “And we do have an initiate due up here any moment…”
Wang Chen wasn’t sure why that was of concern, but Gu Wen took hold of his sleeve. “Come along, dear. They probably don’t want us talking about my evaluation right before an initiate comes in. They might be unnerved.”
Oh. That made some sense.
They’d only gone down one stair before they had to both step aside for an initiate going up. The young man’s qi was unignited and he looked defeated even before he reached the evaluation room. That probably meant he wouldn’t have much of a figure at the Jade Mountain sect.
Gu Wen waited until the initiate was past them and they heard the doors close up above. “Was that Zhang Yun’s mother who was one of my evaluators? The woman who left?”
“Yes, of course.”
She gave him a little push. “You could have warned me.”
“I didn’t know she’d be there. One elder always oversees a disciple’s evaluation, but it could have been any of them.”
Gu Wen made a face. “She didn’t say anything much. Is that bad?”
Wang Chen shook his head slightly. “No, she rarely does. If she was annoyed, you wouldn’t have been left in any doubt.”
She reached out and adjusted his robe again. “How so?”
“Legend has it, that in her youth she dealt with a suitor by tearing his palace apart brick by brick.” He paused. “Not that she’s done anything like that recently. I would have thought she’d be more concerned with her daughter though.”
“Is something wrong with Zhang Yun?”
Wang Chen sighed. “Just Brother Ironhead. Again.”
“Ah. Well, I will no doubt hear all about it.”
He extended his arm for her to take before they went down the stairs again. “In two years, when you’re back for evaluation? Or do you have plans before then?” He couldn’t exactly bring up the real Tang Ju here in the middle of the sect when any elder might hear just by being near them.
The loose cultivator gave him a naughty grin. “Well, Lady Zhang did ask that I accompany her daughter on her next expedition.”
“How exciting,” he said faintly. Closer association with the sect leader’s family would just make everything blow up even harder if they got caught, but the invitation couldn’t exactly be declined…
Some years later, a sky palanquin descended upon the elder’s hall. Despite the winds, the four experienced disciples carrying it were able to keep the curtains from even swaying as they flew down towards the highest ledge of the mountain and set the palanquin down outside the banquet hall.
Although large enough for a half-dozen to travel comfortably, there was only a lone occupant and she thanked them gravely after being helped down onto solid ground. The four returned her salutations and then moved the palanquin off to the sheltered cave where it would be stored until the time came for her to return home.
It was quite a journey back to Qingteng, but given the license to then spend a day at large in the town before returning, there was no shortage of experienced inner disciples volunteering for the work. Another team would be ready to take the guest back when the time came.
“Madame Wang!” The elder at the door was Ong Mao and she clasped the guest’s hands in hers. “I hope your journey was not too arduous.”
“Oh, your youngsters did a fine job of looking after me.” Wang Chen’s mother squeezed the elder’s hands. The fact that some of those disciples might be older than her was something diplomatically set aside. They were certainly older and more experienced than her son was.
Elder Ong Mao led her inside and the matriarch of the Wang family made greetings to the other sect elders who were seated at tables along the room. She wouldn’t have said that heads of other families in the area would have killed for this level of access to the Jade Mountain Sect, but certainly there was some envy.
She also suspected that she wasn’t the only mortal to receive invitations like this. The cultivators of some sects might consider themselves above the affairs of the Empire and its citizens, but the Jade Mountain’s reputation for practicality was well founded. Being known as good hosts and open to the concerns of the towns that dotted the valleys of the northern mountains was a very useful reputation for them to have. Opening their own doors opened others for them.
After exchanging polite greetings with Sect Master Zhang and the serene princess he had wed, the Madame found herself seated about midway along the hall, at a table that already had the first course of the meal laid out for her. Ong Mao had returned to the door but Senior Disciple Wei Tokoku was at the next table over and the tattooed monk poured wine for her from the flask on his own table.
“This is very fine,” the merchant thanked him, after sipping appreciatively. And she didn’t even have to lie - sincerity was the best sauce for conversation.
Tokoku bowed his shaven head gracefully. He stood out among the sect, having come late to the Jade Mountain. His maturity had been appreciated, and Madame Wang wondered if she might live to see him bear the accolade of Elder. “A recent vintage,” he informed her. “I am quite pleased with the outcome. Perhaps you would like a jar to share?”
“Asking me to advertise its virtues for you?” Madame Wang asked, then sipped again. “I would be glad to.”
“Not only the taste,” the monk murmured. “It has also many benefits to one’s health and longevity.”
That probably meant that the contents of her cup would have paid for a small house, or even a good horse. Cultivators wouldn’t see it like that though.
“I will be sure to mention that,” she told him. “Though as a mere mortal, I concern myself more with the longevity of my descendants these days.”
“Ah.” Tokuku’s eyes glittered with amusement. “Well, if you would like a tale of that descendant of yours I know best…”
The room didn’t fall silent of course. Conversations were going on all around the room. But no doubt ears pricked up, for takes of younger disciples misadventures were almost always fodder for amusement.
“Please,” Madame Wang requested, taking some pork from the plate in front of her.
The twisting knotwork of his tattoos twisted as Tokuku reported: “I have occasion to overhear Young Master Qiu in conversation with your daughter-in-law as she returned from one of her recent expeditions.”
“Some daring adventure, no doubt.”
“Oh, I would imagine so. But Qiu Liantian’s marriage is impending and it seems he was seeking guidance in how to establish a harmonious relationship with his future bride.”
“From Tang Ju?” Madame Wang dipped some pork into a bowl of sauce and lifted it to her lips. “And what counsel did she have?”
Tokuku politely waited until she had swallowed. “My junior martial sister espoused the virtues of clear and honest communication.”
A veiled lady who looked no older than Madame Wang’s oldest granddaughter (but who had been an elder here long before the matriarch herself had been born) excused herself suddenly from the table. All eyes followed the Elder as she stepped out of a side door into the garden. Madame Wang was about to ask if something was wrong when she heard the muffled sound of girlish giggling from the other side of the door.
Well, if she could hear it, then everyone else here could as well. But it was polite to pretend otherwise…
“Communication is extremely important,” the aged woman said solemnly, once she was sure of not choking. “I am glad that she understands the principle, if not always the application.”
“Well said,” Ong Mao agreed from her own table. “Alas, I cannot say that there is evidence that Wang Chen or Tang Ju are improving in that area.”
“How sad.”
Most especially for those with money riding on when Wang Chen would discover that his missing bride Tang Ju was right under his nose.
“The pool is growing somewhat,” Tokuku murmured and Madame Wang gave him a sidelong look. “Some bets having been found wrong, there has been some buy-in for new possible dates.”
“I was sure that she would at least inform him after the visit to her hometown,” came a complaint from the forge master. “Even if they didn’t plan to visit Master Tang, then the risk…” He shook his head.
Madame Wang smiled thinly. “You assume that Tang Ju is, herself, aware.”
Several heads came around at that suggestion, including that of the icy beauty from earlier, who had just returned.
“How could that be?” Ong Mao asked sceptically. “Surely she, of all people, would be aware of her own name?”
“Perhaps she is affected by ice birch blossoms,” the veiled elder suggested, moving up to share Tokuku’s table without concern for decorum. “That can confuse memories.”
“I don’t know how far she’d have had to go to find ice birch blossoms outside of our cold-houses,” Ong Mao objected.
Madame Wang shook her head slightly. “Ah, my theory is nothing so exotic. And it is merely a theory…”
“Please,” Tokuku said in open invitation.
“Firstly, it is probable that Tang Ju has no better memory of the wedding than my son. They were both rather more concerned with their own thoughts than their surroundings at the time. And it was their own meeting.”
“But she must recognise her name?”
The merchant tipped her hand back and forth. “You must recall her mother died giving birth and parents were away much of her younger years. Mrs Tang accompanied Master Tang to garrisons, where a child would best not be taken. I would not be surprised if she was ‘young miss’ or ‘first daughter’ to servants and extended family for much of her youth. There is the possibility that she rarely, if ever, was addressed by name. And then, cast out on her own, the identity of Gu Wen, that she carved out for herself.”
“It’s a little far fetched,” Ong Mao muttered. “Surely she must have been taught her name.”
“I do not insist on the idea. Still, it would explain why she has never identified herself after getting to know my son.”
“They are such a good match as well!” the veiled beauty exclaimed.
“I know. And I admit, rather selfishly, that I hope they do tell each other one day. My hopes of grandchildren from Wang Chen rest on that.”
“But you wagered that they never will,” pointed out Tokuku reasonably. He reached over and refilled her cup.
“If I’m wrong then their marriage will move forwards, which will be a considerable consolation.” She raised her cup. “And besides which, it’s not as if I can expect to collect on a bet of ‘never’ unless the worst happens.” Cultivating was dangerous, after all. If Wang Chen or Tang Ju perished then the wealth, however great, that had built up in the pool would not be great cultivation.
“Still, surely they have to figure it out eventually. Wang Chen is still trying to find his ‘real wife’, with all the discretion he can muster,” pointed out Ong Mao reasonably.
“I’m not so sure that he will.”
“Aren’t you being a little harsh on your son?” enquired Tokuku.
“I married his father,” Madame Wang observed with a certain satisfaction. “If I didn’t have a soft spot for blockheads, that would hardly have worked out.”