Immortal Connections - Chapter 53 preview

Author Note: Preview chapters are rough/first drafts. These chapters have not been edited, expect that there may be errors - however, feel free to point out consistency issues!

Chapter 53 - Wu Ying

Traversing the city of _____, Wu Ying found himself caught off-guard regularly as the familiar movements of individuals hard at work living their lives clashed with the strangeness of an immortal realm. Not only was there the overall improvement in clothing, in bearing and physique of the immortals around - to a certain extent, great beauty and amazing physiques became a new normal - but also in the materials, the way the wood of carts and wagons and rickshaws shone, gates and doors glowed with internal energy. 

Such a difference in the physical, and yet, it was also in the everyday moments. There, a flying kite, manuevered through the crowds by a child utilizing their chi, laughing and giggling, other children running beside them. Casually utilizing world chi as though it was the simplest thing in the world, a degree of control exhibited that put Core Formation cultivators to shame in the Middle Kingdom.

Here, a road side food stall making puff pastry, meat filled buns that made Wu Ying's mouth water at the barest hint of its scent, the fresh bread and delectable spiced meats filling the air around it, even as the chef held a hand before the circular, hollow cylinder, emanating warmth and fire chi. Controlling the inscriptions and the temperature of his kiln with chi.

A wandering minstrel, a musician with their eyes half-closed, strumming a ruan to the enthrallment of his audience. The four stringed instrument was somewhat uncommon in Wu Ying's experience, The ruan had a fretted neck with a circular body, strung with twisted silk of the highest quality such that the music produced rung through the surroundings, cutting through the hubub of the city and yet, not disturbing simple conversations by lounging scholars arguing about the latest poetic composiion in nearby taverns.

Commerce continued, all around, though at a more leisurely pace. Conversations often begun by focusing on the personal, for there was no rush or need for the next moment.

All too soon, the farmer clicked his tongue, rousing Wu Ying from his quiet contemplations of this world and the strangeness inherent in an immortal realm. He looked over to see the farmer tapping the edge of the wagon. "Now, I'll be turning down this road soon and setting up to sell what I can. Anything I can't sell directly, I'll drop off at Merchant Su's house. No reason for you to follow to me market, unless you intend to set up shop youself?"

Wu Ying frowned. "Do we not need a permit to do so?" He recalled how jealous certain merchants could be about such permits, for acquiring one could cost significant amounts of taels or favors. Or, more often than not, both.

“Permits, why would we need permits to sell our fruit?” the farmer looked puzzled. “What do you think we are? Thieves? Of plums?” He chuckled at the absurdity of that, and Wu Ying had to admit, if he had to choose someone to rob, it would not be a farmer. And certainly, he would not then drive the wagon into the nearest town to offload his ill-gotten gains.

“Apologies. Things are… different in the Middle Kingdom.”

“Oh, we all understand. But you should talk less, listen more. Eat, sleep, learn our ways. Don’t rush so much.” A finger came up, wagging at Wu Ying. “Not that I expect you children to listen.”

“Children?” Wu Ying said, surprised. Surely that man was no older than him… 

“I see you realise now.” A small smile. “I have lived thousands of years. You – almost all of you Ascendants – are but children to me.”

Wu Ying bowed his head a little, acknowledging the point. A little part of him rankled at the quiet condescension the farmer was offering him, as though living a thousand years in idyllic pleasure, working fields that were constantly fertile, having rain and water brought to oneself, never worrying about sickness or war or bandits somehow made their path the same. 

There was nothing wrong with such an existence, nor did suffering in itself develop wisdom for without mercy or empathy, suffering only generated resentment and anger. Yet, the breadth of experience of the Ascendents, of those who had an opportunity to engage in the full depth of existence opened the eyes of an individual to all the shades of reality.

Suffering was not divine, but it was a competent teacher.

“Do you, in your wisdom, know of someone who might be looking to purchase the divine herbs we collected? Who might perhaps have further information of what might be desired?” Wu Ying said, pushing aside his resentment.

“In my wisdom, eh?” The farmer kept smiling, amusement dancing in his eyes as Ze Mu stepped off the wagon. Behind, traffic collected around the wagon, though none thus far felt the need to hurry the trio. “Well, Mother Ong might have some need for your herbs. She is always experimenting on her animals.”

“Her animals?”

“Mmm… yes. She has this magnificent rooster – Ji De – that she has grown by feeding him all that she can find and some pills.”

“Ji De?” Wu Ying’s lips twitched. A strange name to remember. “And where might I find her?”

“Follow the street to the right, take two rights, look for the Sunset Pavilion of the West. Ask for Mother Ong, most would know her.”

“Thank you then, uncle.” Stepping off the wagon, Wu Ying sketched a quick bow. The farmer waved a hand, dismissing the thanks, but as he flicked the reins and drove the wagon and the oxen on, he called out over his shoulder.

“Don’t forget to rest and not hurry so much! It’d be a waste to waste your immortality rushing from one moment to the next!”