Blueprint for Immortality: a Crafting Xianxia

As they made their way out of the city on the back of a cart carrying pottery, Fen passed Booker a fox mask to wear. “Just until we’re out in the countryside. The guards on the gate are sharp-eyed and can remember any face they see, but I’ll handle them.”

‘Handling them’ was a handful of coin and a whispered name – while Booker hid in a stack of hey, so they wouldn’t even be able to report anyone traveling alongside Fen and Xan. That was enough for the guards to let them through without further bother, the cart rolling onto the valley roads that ran alongside the flow of the river. Pines clustered on the side of the roads, four-fingered ivy leaves hanging from their trunks like clusters of reaching hands. Booker silently noted their names and their minor properties.

The cart was bound for an outlying village, but their own path followed the river past that juncture, so about three hours later they bid their goodbyes and parted ways. Booker, Xan, and Fen all began down the road together, Fen playing a small zither that sat comfortably in his hands as Xan told Booker all the things that had transpired in the Sect since he’d left – all the duels, rivalries, gambling matches, breakthroughs. All the defeats and sorrows.

“But what’s happened with you, Xan?” Booker asked eventually. Although Xan knew all the gossip, he’d been remarkably quiet about his own life.

“Ahhh…” The giant disciple palmed the back of his head. “I’ve been having a little trouble from Snow Moth’s group. They don’t appreciate me participating in the next contest, and they’ve made that known.”

Booker nodded. That explains the black eye. The contests were monthly knock-out tournaments for a small allotment of cultivation resources. In theory they were open to any cultivator. In practice… The cultivators with large retinues would simply bully anyone who signed up without a similarly large group backing them. Xan might endure for now, but they’d only escalate if he continued to participate.

We’re all in similar jams. Xan is a nobody like myself, and his cultivation isn’t quite extraordinary enough to overcome his choice of friends. Fen is an enigma and too clever to get caught in stupid fights, but he’s almost like a hostage of the Sect. I’m not sure what they’re holding over him, but if he’s missing for too long here, they’ll begin cracking down on his tribe.

I bet a lot of the Sect’s cultivators are in a similar situation.

What did Master Ping say?

“No matter where you go or what you do, life would be as simple as this: those below you would worship you, those above you would laugh at you, and those competing against you would seek to destroy you utterly.”

I don’t believe that as an inescapable truth… But it’s certainly true of the Mantis Sect. Everyone here is caught in a cycle of violence, competing viciously against one another. Unless you’re at the very top, you’ll always feel the pressure of those around you trying to climb up over you…

“Brothers, you’re so serious.” Fen laughed, interrupting his thoughts. “Surely there’s something here worth opening your eyes to see? Rather than brooding, let yourself enjoy the moment, no? Surely you’ve dreamed – haven’t we all – of being a cultivating traveler on the open road, a warrior of the martial wilderness?”

Booker smiled slightly. Xan snorted, firing back, “You read too many scrolls. The wilderness? Ha. No soft beds, no soft women. No wine and little money.”

“The pine needles will be our bed. The river will be our wine! Money, we’re better off escaping entirely.”

“And women? Will the wild goats be our women, is that your plan?”

Booker’s smiled grew, hiccuping with laughter.

Fen frowned. “Admittedly, women are in short supply. But aren’t we supposed to be above that? I remember days with my tribe, riding across the plains on a swift horse and sleeping under the stars. I’d never known a silk sheet or a pillow, so I didn’t know to want them. In some ways, learning to expect these comforts is like a cage.”

“Ha, philosophy. If you don’t want it till you’ve had it, why did we invent silk sheets and pillows to begin with?” Xan jabbed back.

Booker was by now just enjoying the argument as they wandered down the road. Xan was big and preferred simplicity, but he was every bit as sharp as the refined and mannered Fen. Anyone who underestimated him was in for trouble…

Their conversation kept the air bright as they made their way past branching paths leading out to small villages and farms. Even this early there was a steady trickle of traffic heading in to the markets, the rural folk bowing their heads as they passed Fen and Xan in their cultivator’s robes. Donkeys and mules carried firewood, grain, and hay in bundles, bound to feed Mantis City’s endless appetites. Oxen dragged heavy carts, and goat-herds chased their ornery flocks towards the gates.

The longer they walked, the more Booker began to smile. The breeze was cool on his face, and after a week of confinement to a hospital bed, it felt good to stretch his legs under the open sky. The distant mountains were beautiful, crowned by blue flowers that made them seem like enormous frozen waves on the edge of the sky. This was the country in which Rain had been born – and a deep fondness for it had crept from Rain’s soul to his own.

This is the country where I’ll discover my talisman-crafting.

This is home.

— — —

They walked all day, although Booker frequently had to stop and rest wherever he could, drinking a little wine each time to revive himself. The exhaustion was growing less severe the more he pushed himself – either his weakness was fading, or his determination was rising.

At the end of the road, a full day outside of Mantis City, was a little town called Oak Branch. It was here precisely because ‘here’ was a day from Mantis City. It had grown out of a little inn offering some comfort to travelers on their way towards the mecca of cultivation – which was funny to Booker, knowing Mantis City had originally been an inn itself.

Large willow trees shaded the river, and anglers caught fish as they rested in the shadows. Children played in the streets and the atmosphere was relaxed. Still, Booker shook his head. “Even if I wear a mask, traveling with you two as a masked man is too suspicious. I don’t want to give the Sect any evidence to accuse me of leaving, even if they assume I have.”

Fen nodded alongside him. “Let’s camp outside then.”

They found a corner of tall trees well past the town’s stacked-stone walls, and gathered firewood while Xan fussed with a piece of flint to light it.

Then suddenly Fen froze. “Shhh…” He whispered.

The thread-thin hairs on the back of Booker’s neck stood up, but he didn’t so much as breathe.

His eyes glanced to Fen, asking ‘is there a threat’ without words. Fen just smiled, and Booker felt his heartbeat recede as he watched Fen kneel down by a patch of brush. As Booker tilted his head, he saw what was hiding between the briars. A rabbit with gleaming patches of sand-gold scales on its back was hunkered down beneath the thorny vines.

Fen pursed his lips and whistled softly. Listening to that note, Booker felt a strange sense of calm. It was like the opposite of martial intent. Instead of focusing your killing rage to oppress your enemies, you signaled inner peace, disguising your true intents.

The rabbit paused, and its head tilted. Then it slowly lost its fear of them. Soon, sniffing cautiously, it had wriggled free of the thorny tangle. It hopped forward – directly into Fen’s hands. Although it finally realized the deception and panicked, it was too late. Fen snapped its neck. The back legs barely had time to kick once.

“That’s a neat trick.” Booker said, blinking as he tried to resolve the lightning-quick kill with the total sense of calm that surrounded it.

“Ah, it’s only the simplest magic.” Fen deflected.

“Simple enough for a cripple to learn?” Booker asked. “I’ve more or less gotten the knack of the last magic you showed me.”

Fen raised an eyebrow. “Ah? Have you? Yet I felt a certain flare of your aura when I asked for silence. A more spiritually aware beast would have fled on the spot.”

Booker grimaced. His concentration had definitely slipped when he thought someone might have followed them.

“But no worries. The basics of this trick can be learned in an afternoon.” Fen waved away the look on Booker’s face, turning up towards the trees. Birds and small red squirrels were watching them from the branches. He nodded his head towards a brown-and-gray feathered sparrow with a sharp little crest atop its head. “That one. Take control of your aura, but instead of restricting it, let it flow out of you.

Tilting his head to get a better look, Booker closed his eyes. He took command of the elusive energy of his intent, and tried to make it flow as it did when he began to write a talisman-mark. To focus it on the sparrow.

Nothing…

“Hold your intent more tightly. Focus. Think of something, and let that image flow with your will…”

And he tried again.

And again.

Again and again.

Until with anger, he pushed his intent sharply into focus, feeling the image of Zheng Bai flood unbidden into his mind. The moment when she bit his thumb away. The searing pain, the sickening feeling of his bone cracking, the raw anger that raged through his thoughts as he tried to will the moment away, to change reality by sheer force of rejecting it.

Squirrels fled down the branches and birds burst into flight. Wings beat against the air as they circled up above the canopy.

“Ah, ah.” Fen flicked his fan out to hide a laugh. “You have to think of something nice. Otherwise, they’ll see you as a predator.”

“Uh…” Booker rubbed at the back of his hair, sighing. “It just slipped out.”

“Why?” Fen inquired. Booker guessed his expression must have given something away. I should get a fan. Using a fan is cheating…

“Ah, it’s just…” He sighed and glanced at the rabbit in Fen’s hands. “The first time I killed someone, I hated myself for days afterwords. Even though, looking back, he was trying to kill me. The second time I killed someone, I started the fight… I lured them into it… and it was…”

“Good?” Fen suggested. “A good thing that she died, a good thing that you did when nobody thought you could, a good thing that you are celebrated and feared for?”

“Mm. Exactly. It felt… It felt like killing heaven and putting myself on a throne over all the world. When I realized I was still alive, everything tasted sweet for days.” Booker shook his head. “I know it doesn’t do me any good but I still worry about it feeling so good.”

“Rain, you’re a softie but you have no mercy on yourself..” Fen didn’t bother to hide this laugh, but reached out and tapped him on the head with his fan. “You spend all day turning yourself on the spit, worrying what’s right and what’s wrong, when most people only worry about who lives and who dies. It must be exhausting, always trying for perfection…”

“Isn’t that cultivation?” Booker asked, genuinely confused.

“No.” Fen waved the idea away. “Maybe somewhere, but not here. Not our cultivation. Sit down Rain. Close your eyes and reach out with all your senses.”

Booker gave him a doubtful look, but settled into the lotus position. Blades of grass bent and tickled along his legs. The smell of flowers filled the air as he closed his eyes and let other senses take over. He could hear the swish of Fen’s robes as he stepped back and forth behind him, the distant calls of birds. The smell was rain, the air slightly dense as a storm billowed in. Cold… It was cold against his skin.

“Breathe in.” Fen instructed.

Booker let the breath rise and expand his lungs, lift his shoulder, press backwards against the vertebrae of his spine. It felt fundamentally good, like a heatless burn.

“And out.”

He exhaled slowly, allowing his body to expand and contract with the motion as it wished.

“And that is cultivation.”

“That’s all? I think there might be more to it.” Booker said doubtfully.

“There is. But it is more of the same. More of you, and more of the world. Anything beyond that, is not cultivation of heaven and earth. You do not need to think to cultivate. What you need is reflection, and the wisdom born of seeing things honestly and plainly, including yourself.”

“Ah, mm, yeah.” Booker sighed. “I can see the problem there. I tie myself into knots…”

“Indeed.” Fen agreed. “But there is a way through. No problem is so complicated it does not become simple when seen through heaven’s eyes. You must simply find a perspective that makes everything simple, that allows you to understand yourself in the most pure and true terms.”

“And then I can cultivate?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Fen.”

— — —

They returned and cooked the rabbit. Booker skinned and prepared the carcass, and they all enjoyed a bit of meat over white rice that Xan washed and cooked in a bowl of leaves and mud. Xan and Fen were so handy in the wilds that Booker, even with his distant experiences of camping, felt like a bit of a silkpants – neither him nor Rain had ever lived such a rough existence.

A son of the valley… but not a poor son of the valley.

As the rabbit roasted, Booker took out his drawing slate, producing inks and papers and his brush in its leather case with the brass snaps. He settled down by the warmth of the fire and began to draw…

The brush swept easily across the flat, smooth paper, finely-made by hand. The grip of the brush in his left hand was growing more and more familiar. His thoughts flowed smoothly into the place between concentration and total relaxation that was necessary, his mental vision becoming clearer and clearer.

This time he tried to focus on something simple. The sight of lightning in the sky. The way it tasted, the way it hung like an afterimage of white scar and purple bruise on the dark of the night, faintly illuminating the edges of the clouds that faded into black beyond its glow…

His brush swirled the final line into place and he opened his eyes.

Booker smiled. His first talisman was complete.

Qi Detection Talisman

17% Mastery // Dull-Quality

The most simple talisman, and a mechanism on which many other talismans rely to activate.

First Rune: Detection

Effect (10% Mastery): Detects the presence of foreign qi.

Effect (25% Mastery): Can be tuned to trigger other runes when it detects a specific qi.

Effect (75% Mastery): Flies towards the source of qi.

He felt a surge of gratification, and proudly swirled the ink off his brush in a cup of water, putting it away and folding the talisman to place in his pocket.

“I didn’t know you knew talisman-craft, Rain.” Xan remarked.

“I heard Greenmoon was hiding some secrets in that vein. I’d guess that’s where Rain learned it, right?” Fen chimed in.

Booker nodded mutely, understanding Fen was covering for him but not wanting to add to the lie and spin himself deeper.

At that moment, Fen tilted his head up. A moment later and Xan and Rain had both heard the same thing. Someone coming through the wood, pine branches bending and snapping back into place as they passed. Soon a voice called out, “Hey, strangers, I mean you no harm!”

Xan frowned and Rain did too, reaching to pull on his mask.

“Come into our little fire, let us be the judge of that.” Fen called out.

A girl with a hunched and struggling walk fought her way free of the briars, swinging a driftwood crutch forward with each step. She had a wounded leg that was dragging badly. As she emerged into the firelight Rain saw clear hunger on her face, the spaces between her cheekbones sunk in. By firelight it was especially clear – the half-light filled the hungry spaces with shadow and shone on the high ridges of her cheekbone, illuminating brown hair.

“Oh.” She glanced between them, taking in Xan and Fen’s Sect robes. “Honored Elders of the Sect. I’m so sorry to intrude, I–”

“You were hoping for food, right?” Xan interrupted. “We can spare some plain rice.”

“Brother Xan.” Fen chided. “Are you going to starve our fellow brother? If you don’t give them a share of the rabbit, he’ll definitely give them his. Go on and cut the rabbit into five portions.”

Booker suppressed a small smile. Guilty as charged.

“Fine,” Xan huffed. He pulled the rabbit off the fire, placing it on a rock and beginning to slice away the breast and thighs with his knife, then using the point to dig out the bites from between the ribs and hiding elsewhere among the bones.

“Brothers from the Sect, you are truly gracious. I would bow, but… it’s a little hard to even stand right now. And please, don’t think I’m completely a beggar. Look, I can contribute mushrooms and eggs to add to your rice.” Setting her back against a tree, she allowed herself to slump down until she was sitting. She dug into her bag and took out a clump of brown-white mushrooms. Turning back towards the woods, she called, “Hua, you can come out!”

Emerging from the shadow of a small tree, a young girl of maybe eight or nine emerged, holding a half-dozen small blue eggs balanced in her arms. “Are you really from the Sect?” She chirped, picking her way through the thorns.

Xan grimaced visibly, and reached over to take the mushrooms, moving the pot of rice off the fire and putting a broad flat stone in to serve as a pan. Cutting the mushrooms apart and laying them out, he waved to the girl over and took the eggs as well, cracking them onto the rock. He glanced up as she approached, and said, in a kinder voice, “Did you find the nest yourself?”

Hua nodded happily. “I found them!”

“That’s quite lucky. You must be pretty clever to find so many.” His big hands cracked the tiny blue eggs with ease. “I’m guessing you two wouldn’t be in such bad condition, except your sister hurt her leg, right?.”

“We were doing alright.” The older girl said. “Normally, I’d be trying to sell you this or that herb – we’re just medicine pickers, but we do well enough most years.”

Numbing Nettle-Rag. Heaven-Scented Peach Gum. There’s plenty of seasonal medicines to find out here, even close to the city. It’s probably a pretty decent living…

The silence lasted until they were ready to eat, the egg frying happily as heat worked its way through the thin stone slab atop the coals, but Xan paused for a moment, realizing they only had three bowls. “You eat first.” He suggested, scooping out a generous heaping of rice from the pot and topping it with egg, mushroom, and rabbit, before passing it to little Hua.

“I’ll also eat later…” Booker tried to say, but Fen cut him off.

“No you won’t.” Passing his own bowl to Xan, he chided Rain. “You’re still recovering.”

By the time Xan finished filling bowls for Rain and the wounded girl, it was clear there wasn’t much left for the other two. The girl bent her head, gratefully accepting the warm meal. It was more food than she’d probably had in weeks. She ate quickly, and Rain guessed she’d eat quicker still if she wasn’t too embarrassed to just use her hands.

“How’d you lose your thumb?” Hua asked. Unlike her sister, Hua was definitely using her hands to eat, and licking sticky granules of rice off her fingers.

Rain had pulled his mask partway up to eat, and he chewed before saying, “I was wrestling a tiger.” Xan just snorted, but Hua’s eyes went wide.

“How big was the tiger?” She insisted.

“Bigger than you and bigger than me.” Booker answered, reluctantly taking a bowl as Xan stepped around the fire to hand it to him.

“And you’re eating all of that.” Xan said sternly, huffing as he sat back down and waited for someone to finish their rice. Booker bowed his head obediently.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me, brothers.” Booker said from the heart. “When I think about what a sad scene my first day in this wilderness would be without you two….”

Xan scratched his nose uncomfortably. “It’s nothing. What? We’re just going to let you be…” He frowned, remembering the presence of the others around the fire, and just said, “We weren’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“Do you have any scars? Did you kill it with a sword, or with your hands?” Hua continued to ask.

Across the fire, the wounded girl finished her bowl and passed it back to Xan. “I’m eternally grateful to you, and to the Sect. Hospitality such as yours can’t be imitated.”

“We don’t know your name, and you don’t know ours. Let’s address that.” Fen said. “I’m Fen.”

“Xan.”

“Northsparrow.” Booker lied. Lying about his identity at this point.

“Well, I’m Kuei-Lan. I know my manners are crude, but elders please forgive me, that was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” She smiled shyly.

“I’m Hua.” Hua reminded them.

Booker was slowly eating, but Xan had already filled a meager bowl for Fen, and now he snapped, “Hurry up ‘Northsparrow’.”

Which really means… don’t you dare try to save any for little Hua. Brother Xan sure has my number…

Deliberately and while holding Xan’s gaze, he took a bit of rabbit and passed it to Hua, then committed to eating in full, wolfing down the rest and passing Xan his bowl. The rice was faintly sweet and tasted clean against the dripping grease of the rabbit, the mushrooms spongy and earthy, the egg rich.

Rising, he made his way towards Kuei-Lan. “Here, I’m something of a doctor. I’ll take a look.” Kneeling down, he waited for her permission and then began unwinding the bandages on her leg. There was a great deal of dried blood that peeled and flaked away, causing her clear pain when it stuck against the edges her wound. The cut itself was deep and vertical, going down much of her leg. Clumsy stitches – probably done herself – ran down the length, trying poorly to hold the black-red gash together. Besides blood, the bandages smelled strongly of bitter leaves, and there were black veins surrounding the wound.

“I took a bad fall.” She said.

“You were cut.” He replied. “By a sword. And the wound isn’t healing well, but you’ve kept it clean, probably used nettle-rag and bitter mulberry leaf to try and treat it.” Except the manufacture of the medicine is poor and there’s no potency. It’s enough to keep infection at bay, but not enough to heal.

“Elder Northsparrow is both a tiger-wrestler and an observant doctor. The Sect truly does take the most exceptional kind of person to reach.” She said with a bitter tone.

“He can also tell when someone is trying to deflect.” Booker replied, before asking, “Who cut you?”

“Another medicine-picker. It’s… my fault…” She lowered her head. “I was on their territory.”

Damn. If it was a bandit or something like that, I could settle this easily with Xan and Fen’s help. But if she was stealing, I can’t really punish someone for driving her off.

As for the wound… She has toxicity build-up from using such clumsy medicine already. I shouldn’t give her anything too potent. I should actually rely on non-alchemical disinfectants, and wait for the toxicity to clear.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Fen said, “But do you know the way towards Dragon’s Eye Cave? We’re looking for someone to lead us there.”

She nodded. “I do. It’s forbidden ground, but every medicine-picker knows it. Plenty of my ancestors died there.” For a moment she seemed lost in the past, her fingers tracing a silver medallion she wore around her neck, nothing more than a coin that had been flattened and engraved with the image of a tree. Then she remembered herself, and shook herself back to the present moment. “But I’m sure honorable elders like yourself will have no trouble.”

Fen reached into his pocket and took out a coin. Her eyes sharpened at the glint of the silver.

“I’ll lead you.” She said immediately, clearly hungry for more.

“Ah, with your leg in such a state? I mean no offense, but perhaps you know somebody else better suited…” Fen sighed.

“Then… I’ll take you to my village. I know the most trustworthy people there. They’ll lead you right to the cave.” She conceded.

Fen smiled, passing over the coin.

Straightening up, Booker said, “Hua, you must be pretty good at finding medicines. I’m going to find some for your sister now. Will you accompany me?”

“Uh-huh!” Hua nodded enthusiastically. “Sister! We’re going to cure you!”

“Elders from the Sect, you’re going to make this poor medicine-picker cry with your generosity.” Kuei-Lan clasped her hands and bowed her head.

Feeling almost embarrassed to be addressed with such gratitude, Booker set off into the woods, picking up a length of fallen branch and using it to push the briars aside for little Hua to hop through.

It certainly puts my problems in perspective…

I have the book. I may be a cripple, but I’m a member of the Mantis Sect. And I have good friends like Xan and Fen…

I may be unable to climb a step with my condition, but I was born on the stairs leading up the mountain. Compared to some my life is blessed.