The foolish Xia De stood above his peers with nose so high that, should rain come, his nostrils might be full.

“Is it not clear to you?” he goaded his juniors, all in kowtow at the single step that granted entry to their great monastery.

A message glared there, in finest red ink, half-scored beneath time’s ravages.

And none but he knew its meaning.

“This step is the [Dao],” he proclaimed. “All we must do is place our foot above it! This is its sole meaning!”

Those gathered heard these words, and nodded in his praise.

“Xia De is wise,” they would chant. “Xia De knows the Dao.”

For ten years he held such conference, and for ten years he revelled in these cries, knowing he was wise under the Heavens, and his insight, unrivalled.

But his great Master emerged then, and stood upon his step. “Foolish junior, you have stirred me!” he said, and made to strike the chords of Xia De’s throat for such noise.

“I have insight!” he said, and stayed the falling palm. “I know this step, and through it the [Dao]! It is progress, and upwards movement, and the momentum to climb!”

So his great Master stroked each foot of his snow-white beard. “Then name its Principle.”

“A step up,” pondered Xia De.

Yet he was pushed from this small height.

“Then so too is it a step down,” the great Master scoffed. “For how can the Boundless be only one thing?”

- “Parables of the Dao,” - by an Unnumbered Storyteller.

Violence towards others did not come naturally to Fu, and neither did he endorse it for any others in the Gao clan, but he would forgo the lessons he taught his children on such topics to handily beat Yongwu Long.

He would wait, however, until he had freed himself of this entanglement of vines.

A bed was made around his body, holding him suspended not a pace from the bastard’s calm and lounging body, placing him with a prime view of the smile that crested his lips. “Brother Adhrit would’ve embraced several [Epiphany] on the [Dao] from that leap,” he said. “Why then, Fu, does your face turn the colour of milk instead?”

Hushi shared none of the current animosity that his cultivator felt, more focused on fraying the serpentine vines that held both not three strides from the ground. “For what reason have you doomed us to the Valley?” Fu mumbled.

“That’s a conversation for those with both feet upon solid soil.”

The snap came soon enough, and Fu unspooled from the vines much as his chain might from his arm. It was an easy thing to land, and he did so despite the multitude of injuries he had accumulated over the span of these past days.

Myriad lacerations, swollen flesh where bruises and poisonous residue clashed for supremacy, the near incineration of his lungs, and the final near-breaking of his jaw.

He winced against this pain, but rose to wait for Long’s descent.

Above, latticed vines draped in wide reach, mounting from the tops of aged pillars and the occasional tree, showing Fu that they stood in some form of ruin.

A bare frame of one, at least, for the surrounding shell was much crumbled with time and the addition of what had fallen from the Bastion’s stonework.

The moment Long dropped, his hands drew tight to guard, almost mockingly.

But what met him was Fu’s glare, and no barrage of fists as the man might have rightfully deserved. “Tell me.”

Relaxing his hands, Long grew pensive, as if searching for the reason behind his own lunacy. “There’s few words that might remedy this in so short a time, and it’s clear you won’t brush this aside without due explanation.”

Fu was returned to a stillness through these seconds, damming his anger to hear Long’s reason. The man was no fool, and he did not strive for an early death, lending credence to Fu’s nature of calm. So it was that through a pained jaw, he grunted for him to continue.

“The [Reliquary].”

A vestige of the [Demonic] touch that Fu had imbibed within the [Thousand Shore Mystic Realm] rose then to color the world red. “Greed?” Eight arms melded about his neck, though in support over any impression of having his anger simmer. “This is why my children’s lives are now endangered? For greed?”

And then Fu was upon the traitor, the hook of his chain chiming against a hastily withdrawn jian. Their eyes locked beyond scraping metal. Long’s, measuring. “The thirsty shouldn’t tread into nearby waters. Greed’s not my motive, Fu, and neither have I endangered your children.”

Tired of this exchange, Fu enacted his descending crane kick from the [Stifling Stream Revolutions], battering a foot into Long’s jaw to send him reeling. “The Blight is about us, [Spirit Beasts] roam rampant, and no wall nor experts stand at our back. We are alone amidst a mountain of blades and a sea of fire!”

Long’s [Spirit Carp] shed a radiance of golden wisps, quick to dissipate as Hushi cast himself upon the fish. He wound tight around the Bond, constricting to crash both to the ground.

“Return me to the Bastion, Long!” cried Fu.

His voice flew across the ruins to much uproar as it echoed from the rockface to their rear, lingering until a distant rumble replied.

“You’re stirring those beasts, Fu. Peace. Hear me out and then place judgement. What we’ve to do here will secure your children’s future, not condemn it! Haven’t you faith in me now?”

Sense flocked to Fu upon hearing the rumble, and it was this that broke him free of his broiling rage. Apt timing, for Hushi’s constriction drew a mirrored effect in the man ahead, who wheezed through suffocation.

With a shared impression, both fisherman and octopus drew back. The lengths they had almost travelled in retaliation were a shocking sight to realise.

Would I have slain Long here?

It brought a tearful pang, and a weight upon his eyes that had him think, for a glimpse, of regret.

But he was a father, and this man had placed his treasures in jeopardy. “Understand this, Long, and speak well, for neither Sects nor the Heavens will hold me from my children. And you, you are just a man.”

“Bold,” cut Long. “For a clay ox, entering the sea.”

“A clay ox? By your making!” Fu bristled, jabbing at the Bastion well, well above. “In time their debt would be repaid!”

Long made a slow move, grasping the fold in his hanfu to bear his chest. “And that is the intent of the Elders? Of Cheng Rao? To have you free and hale? Does this have no purpose!”

Hairless flesh was there, unscarred and pristine.

Thus, Fu glared at the oddity. “Lunacy claims you Long-” And then his words trailed, spying all that could not be seen. For the same nothing was upon his own chest. “The [Three Eyed Spying Array].”

Something close to triumph flashed in Long’s eyes, and he chanced a grin. “And now you’ve proven that I threw the right man from the mountain.”

“Long.”

“Hah. Peace, Fu, peace.”

“What-” The fisherman’s head shook, and his [Senses] had him focus on their surroundings with further intent.

Sounds there, distant, that reason dictated could not be the weary creak of bark, nor the rustling of a [Summer[ breeze. But more than this gave him pause, as he had been about to both ask, or proclaim what these lofty matters had to do with him. For one of his station.

“My concern was never on the why,” Fu continued. “Only on how I might secure the survival of my children. A blind man could see there is more to this. The purpose of such destruction as the Cloudy Serpent Sect have wrought, or their watchfulness.”

“Then name me half-blind,” Long chuckled. “As I measure their goals on what little truths I’ve gathered, and weigh it against those I’ve known above me on the path. Our [Gleeful Viper], or her second, didn’t inflict the [Three Eyed Spying Array] to all those they bade survive Thousand Shore City. You’d have seen this farce continue upon the warship, no?”

“Two groupings entered the [Mystic Realm] then? One with the [Array] and one without? What purpose would it serve to…” An anger frothed in Fu’s stomach once more. “You draw legs on a snake, Long. These mysteries bring us no closer to safety, or explanation.”

A moment passed where he knew Long to be considering a look of feigned hurt, for it surfaced in a blink to fade just as quick. He re-set his hanfu then, and beckoned Fu to follow him in moving from the ruins. [Spirit Carp] in tow.

There were no further words as they navigated through screens of draping vines, and Fu allowed Long his silence for a time. He could gather his own thoughts this way, and it had him prepared for their next stop.

The stone beneath their feet had ended several strides ago, giving way to a loam with a sparse growth of green shoots. Rolling down from the point where they stood to show it multiplied in the valley proper.

“The [Reliquary],” repeated Long, nodding to the monumental trunk of a blossom several li away.

Some Heavenly sight, affixed with ribbons of emerald sheen against its splay of violet leaves. A hand of branches there, in how it curled towards the skies, large enough that Fu knew it to be a star shattering force could it move as its look might suggest.

“Brother Adhrit would be swayed to this course with a mention of the [Dao] within,” said Long. “Your sister Xianyi, I couldn’t say. She has become of the Sect, in recent hours. Or so I’ve seen.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“I would seek truth over swaying.”

At this, Long smiled. “The truth is not a straight arrow, and it doesn’t fly from but one string. The Sect has their truth, you yours, and I mine.” He was bold then, and placed a hand on Fu’s shoulder. “What does your own say about the future? Can it withstand what’s to come, will fatherly obligation hold the strength to free your children? Go, if you think so, brandish it as a blade against the [Spirit Beasts] and see how well it unblocks your clan’s future.”

Fu shrugged free the hand. “Nothing will befall my children. I will see to that.”

“Gao Fu, [Foundation Realm] fisherman. Yes,” Long smirked. “The Heavens themselves tremble at your might.” And he scoffed, giving rise to hints of anger’s red haze.

“You say I am not enough for this?”

“I say that fate and circumstance are never beat into submission by dogs at their master’s heels. Is it not a father’s way to open the path for their children? To have your kin surpass you, and all others, by their efforts? Idle drifting will deliver no such thing.”

The Qi within Fu’s [Dantian] grew agitated to hear this, and he found both his fists had balled without notice.

Idle drifting?

Such a thought cut deep. Echoing Grandmother Hua. For had he not sworn to strive with all he had? She had said that to meet his goals one must rise enough to make the Heavens shudder, or sink low enough to escape their notice.

By the standards of a foolish mortal, he was the former. But he tread the Boundless Path now, and to those upon it, he knew well that he followed the latter.

So Fu exhaled before speaking, and it was a heavy thing that rid his shoulders of much tension. “The [Reliquary] will change this?”

“Not alone. It’s but a single step,” said Long, and his [Spirit Carp] shook between them, releasing a handful of golden motes. “A single step upon an infinite climb. What must change is you, for all change begins with the self.”

Discomfort rose to crowd Fu’s temples, the makings of an ache. “I am-” Hushi returned to mount upon his shoulder, and there came a muted tap upon the douli. “I am much changed already, and… and if this is lacking, Long, then I would ask you two things.”

“Only two?”

“What then, do I lack?”

Long’s lips turned thin, as simple a gesture as the answer. “Arrogance.”

What Qi stirred in Fu’s [Dantian] then was close to a storm, so much so, that he felt his knees tremble. “Arrogance?”

“A force to be fostered. Have it bloat your greed so that each pounding of your heart does so for resources, challenge and opportunity. Have it hold your head in improper bow against those who don’t stand above you rightfully. You must covet. You must know your worth, and of what worth you will become.”

To have his words settle, the pair walked further. Though Long did not press him, and led at the front, setting his gaze on the destination ahead.

Where both grew further from Fu, and more in a span of seconds. “Hushi,” he voiced, and his Bond came to nestle in his arms. Soft, golden orbs open to hear whatever his cultivator might say. “I- These words of Long’s. Do you feel their truth?”

A teal tip touched at Fu’s chest, and once more between Hushi’s eyes.

“With your blessing, only, as we will lose what little peace we knew. Are you willing?” he asked, raising the octopus to match his height.

Their link sharpened as eyes met, and the impression delivered was of a different sort than those that came before.

An image, now, and a warmth to it. One where Hushi was among arms, soft and reassuring, and where Yuling’s face had twisted into a smile. Her shoulder, nudging against Feng in reaction to whatever he had said, and causing the octopus to jiggle in turn as Yuqi shared in their joy.

“A better brother cannot be found beneath the Heavens, Hushi. I owe you my all.”

Hushi softly pushed Fu’s jaw aside, never one to bask in compliments, and drew attention across the distance to Long.

But Fu spoke nothing of his resolution upon reaching the man, taking only his place at Long’s side as they descended into a balding plain, hued in yellow. Thin in vegetation, and strewn more with boulders than bush or tree.

“Two questions, wasn’t it?” broke Long.

Well within his thoughts, Fu took a moment to answer. “Not Xianyi, nor Adhrit. Or any others of the capable Hopefuls. Why ask me for this attempt at the [Reliquary]?”

“With all that I’ve said, why do you think?” Yet it was not posed as a true question, and out of kindness for the fisherman’s mental plight, Long answered after a laugh. “Because your nature will temper such arrogance, Fu, and because that greed I so need you to acquire will remain ever selfless.”

🀧

While he knew this path brought into question his sanity, Fu was resolute. Thus the pair continued across the plains with the [Reliquary] upon their horizon, and the Heavens were shown to favour this, as neither Blight nor [Spirit Beast] had deigned to appear during their passage.

Several li’s distance were covered in those first few hours, proving both how Fu had misjudged their proximity to the tree, and that this spate of good fortune would last no longer than the coming dusk.

For the Blight was soon to descend.

“That is not how my [Dao] behaves,” protested Fu.

Long’s eyes narrowed to grant a look of feigned scrutiny. “Then you’ve taken already to setting limits on it. The poor, impotent, Boundless [Dao]. A shame. Here, allow me.”

The pair had chanced upon a collapsed set of ruins, though chance would not be how Fu might describe the happenstance.

Minutes ago, Long had turned quite insistent that they should alter their course, searching for shelter in which to weather the Blight. And in these short minutes, they had found the crumbled doorway, one side collapsed, with the stone gantry having filled in where one might have entered.

Perilous, and unstable as it was, they had navigated inside to find themselves in a store of some form, with the shelving equally crumbled.

Long set about the stout connecting corridor, and etched a series of characters from floor to ceiling as Fu watched on with curiosity. Next he drew several [Spirit Cores] from within the folds of his hanfu, positioning them upon the floor-etched symbols.

He had asked me to set my [Dao of Suffocation] upon the door… but what he does now, this is no [Dao].

“An [Array]?”

A snap came from Long. “The Azure Shoal Sect had their uses,” he said. “For one, I can’t find a fault with their library. Other than how it’s now a smouldering pile of embers.”

“You have no love for your former Sect?” Fu asked, absently tracing the characters as he neared.

“This is a [Four-Fifths Gathering Array],” he went on. “A basic Qi gathering [Array] that’s taught to most on the [Spirit] or [Mind] path. See here,” Long gestured to the characters at either side. “Many [Array] experts have no need for symbols, can impart their Qi with understanding of the [Dao], or work with resources that bolster the effect they desire. There’s more than one way to skin a fish, no?”

Fu bristled at this. “A rabbit.”

Long stalled, imparting a smile. “Apologies, Senior Fu. I’ll make sure to flagellate myself a hundredfold for such stupidity.”

“Once will be fine,” returned Fu, gesturing to continue.

“Here I’ve imbued my Qi into the formation with the intent that the area from floor to frame is to gather the ambient Qi that will arrive with the Blight. The [Spirit Cores] here are of [Poison Affinity], and will draw in its own type to power the effect without allowing it to pass the boundary.”

“The Blight is a [Dao Field]... the [Dao] are not Qi. Or do I misunderstand?”

“I’m sealing the medium by which it travels.”

“[Water Qi]?” asked Fu. “It is a fog, no?”

“A fog of poison.”

Fu retracted from the characters, allowing Long to finish. “A strong [Array], if it can beat back the power of a [Core Formation Realm] effect.”

A thrum came, and a dull glow from each of the set cores. Showing a sheen to rise once as though across some translucent screen within the [Array’s] boundary. Thus Long stepped back, and sat himself in the middle of the store.

“Possibly,” he said, shedding a great deal of Fu’s confidence in the man. “It’s more guiding, than beating. This is not the intended use. A [Gathering Array] is much like a [Qi Condensing Pill], serving to amplify one’s cultivation. A true boon given how many [Mystic Realms] we have endured since the Sect’s arrival.”

“As the ambient Qi is higher than in our home?” Fu confirmed, searching the pouch at his back for the pill he had yet to use. “I may use my own now-”

The hand in front of him raised quickly, startling Hushi. “Not here, Fu. [Air Qi’s] rarely plentiful underground. It’d be a waste.” Long shifted into the lotus position, both hands upon his lap. “But please, if you’d indulge me?”

With his pill in-hand, Fu tensed.

Would he take it from me?

“Restore your face. That jaw- These past hours you’ve sounded like two toads sit beneath your cheeks.”

Fu allowed himself a chuckle, and placed his pill back within. “Gratitude, Brother Long.”

🀧

It was a grim thought that had Fu realise how accustomed to pain he now was.

He stirred from his cultivation, having directed all the Qi he might muster towards healing his injuries and opening both eyes to the same, tender twinge of ruination that he had possessed before. Albeit muted.

The superficial had gone, showing his arm in near pristine condition, and each bulge and swollen area to have faded. But it ached beneath the surface, and a click was present in his jaw as he rubbed it softly.

Hushi was in a similar state, though what injuries he had sustained he only noticed through their shared link. A small limp, or hesitation of limbs as he peeled the douli back over himself to enter a truer rest.

Spurring another ache, as his Bond’s shuffle had reeds fall into his lap. Fu grasped one, rubbing it between his fingers. Where it snapped under such modest pressure.

Mei. I have not taken care of this. But, you would forgive me, would you not?

With no small reluctance, he conjured his [Ink] to banish the image of a loving face, replacing it in teal.

An increase to [Middle] has granted two to my [Control], and a new addition of strength in my [Might].

He had very little thoughts concerning his attributes, even with all he had gleaned from The Enlightened Bandit, and as such merely confirmed the change. There was a swell then, some quiet change where he reflected his consciousness upon the limits of his body and tried to parse the exact occurrence.

He blew a breath out when he could not, and took out his current tome.

“Parables of the Dao,” noticed Long. “I’ve not read that since I was a boy.” Fu looked up from his page, barely reading the first set of characters before his companion had edged closer, speaking again. “The Sect’s uniform is not sown with space in mind. Holds some value, does it?”

“I am- There are more questions in my head than fish in the sea. This found me by generosity, as did others.”

Long faced him in his own lotus position, the [Spirit Carp] drifting wide around both. “You’ve no shame, do you?”

The question took Fu off guard, but by the glitter in his companion’s eyes it did not seem malicious. “I would wager I have as much shame as brother Long has manners.”

“Careful Gao Fu!” he smirked. “My Bond here whispers that you’re courting death.”

Fu turned past his own shoulder, clasping his hands towards the carp. “Apologies for speaking out of turn, Young Mistress. But I hold doubt that a cultivator such as you, so radiant in gold that you shame the sun’s rays, might utter such words.”

As if she formed her own current in the empty air, the [Spirit Carp] looped, almost in some form of mirthful dance.

“Why brother, you’re sly to hide such fragrant words,” chuckled Long. “Perhaps I should be under your tutelage, and not the other way around.”

“Tutelage? I was not aware we had such a relationship.”

Long swatted the air, dismissing the notion. “Oh, but how else are we to rid that sea within your head of its questions?”