6.12 - Northward Once Again

At Liao Shan’s invitation, He Yu and Chen Fei spent the day at the temple. They were glad for the opportunity to rest after their trip over the mountains and across the great steppe. The abbot provided cultivation chambers for them, and more mundane hospitality as well. They resumed their journey the following morning. Aside from his tempering of He Yu’s way—if that’s truly what he’d done, as He Yu didn’t fully understand the newly forged connection between his Wayborn Seed, Nascent Soul, and the Dao of Heroism—Liao Shan had given something of, perhaps, greater value to Chen Fei.

He told her where she might find her parents. Upon receiving the news that finding them was now a trivial task, she’d looked as though she were about to soar off on her flying disc and an seek them out right then. After a few moments, she turned to He Yu.

“They’ll be safe until we can finish all we need to do.”

He Yu understood the choice. Whatever they’d done so far, whatever danger they’d already passed through, more lay ahead. Defying Jin Xifeng would carry tremendous risk—and He Yu certainly wouldn’t want to potentially call her attention to his father. He could hardly blame Chen Fei for waiting.

“I will let them know you live,” Liao Shan said as the two of them made their final preparations to depart. “They’ll be glad of the news, and I think they’ll understand why you didn’t come yourself. I think, too, they’ll be proud of how you’ve grown.”

She beamed and gave Liao Shan her thanks. She and He Yu together bid the abbot farewell. Then they left the mountain temple and her village behind. Chen Fei skimmed along the treetops as they flew toward the steppe once more, and He Yu drifted by her side. When they were far enough away that he was mostly certain Liao Shan wouldn’t hear, He Yu asked something that had been nagging at the back of his mind since meeting the old immortal.

“Why didn’t Liao Shan do anything for your village when the drought came? Or help with growing food? From what I gathered of his cultivation, his spirit was mostly mountain, wood, and life. Surely he could have helped with food, at least. Then there was the raid you told me about. He seemed like he’d been in the temple for a long time. He’s easily advanced enough to deal with any attacks that might come.”

“Something with his Way,” she answered easily. “He never interfered with us. Sure, if someone needed aid beyond the capabilities of our own experts, we could go to him. He’d always help, too, never asking for anything in exchange. But he’d never act without being asked to. He’d also never help the village as a whole, only the person who came to him.

“I think I remember hearing something about some principle of noninterference Liao Shan follows. He’s not really a cultivator in the same way we are, either. Like, sure, he’s a capable expert with martial techniques far beyond either of us. But he’s a priest first, and he sees to the temple above all else. If anyone was foolish enough to attack the temple, he’d defend it. But he won’t interfere with the outside world otherwise.”

He Yu’s frown deepened as she spoke. As they flew ever closer to the steppe, the mountain temple and Liao Shan growing ever more distant behind them, He Yu considered her words. He didn’t care for them. What point was there in cultivation if you just sat on the side of a mountain and waited for those in need to come to you?

“I don’t like it, either,” Chen Fei said as the silence between them stretched on, broken only by sounds of the mountain morning. “My own Dao of Protection doesn’t allow for sitting idly by while others suffer attacks. Or famine and drought, for that matter. But I think I understand him, at least a little. If my Way revolved around a place like that temple, rather than the concept of protecting those close to me, I think I might act like Abbot Liao.”

As much as he didn’t want to accept her wisdom, He Yu couldn’t deny it, either. “It’s such an odd thing,” he mused after a while. “My Way drives me to action. To seek out injustices, then correct them. It’s difficult to accept that others might act differently.”

“It’s something I’ve thought about a lot, too,” Chen Fei said. “I keep thinking back to those early lessons we had in the sect. About how our Way and our nature and our Dao all influence one another. I guess it’s only natural that as we advance, we become more set in our ways. The whole process of aligning ourselves closer to our personal connection to the Dao almost demands we become… I don’t know if inflexible is right, but it’s something like that.”

Unbidden, He Yu’s thoughts turned to Jin Xifeng. She’d mentioned something about her Way when she’d come to him. Or connected to him. He still wasn’t sure what had happened exactly—whether she used some art to project herself, like Elder Cai had, or if she’d leveraged some aspect of the Heavenly Palace’s connection to her. Whatever the truth, he remained convinced the conversation they’d shared had been true. The words had been hers, and that she’d heard his answers. She’d claimed her Way was to possess, to rule. Did that mean she was somehow driven to collect subjects and servants in the same way He Yu was driven to protect those who needed him most? Did that mean she wasn’t wholly in control of herself?

He Yu rejected that thought as quickly as it had arose. No. Jin Xifeng wasn’t a slave to her Way—just as He Yu wasn’t powerless before to his. A cultivator defined their Way. Yes, it came from their nature. Yes, a cultivator’s personal connection to the Dao shaped them in profound ways. But a cultivator was not a passive vessel, waiting to be filled. To cultivate was to defy the heavens—defy the natural order of the world through their actions. They shaped their Dao as much as the Dao shaped them. This was a truth He Yu had learned time and again. As calcified as an ancient like Jin Xifeng might become over time, her choices were still her own. Whatever Dao she followed, she could pursue it in a different, but equally true, fashion.

“Everything alright?” Chen Fei asked after he’d been quiet for sometime. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as the sun broke over the mountains behind them.

He told her his thoughts regarding Jin Xifeng.

After a while, she nodded her agreement. “I think you’re right. I’ve spent so long struggling with my own concept of the Dao of Protection. All the little ways its meaning shifts depending on how I think about it, and questioning if I’m truly living up to it or not. Our personal Dao, I think, is far more flexible than it might seem. She chose her path, just as you and I have chosen ours.”

He Yu laughed, unable to help himself. “You’re starting to sound like a sage. If I didn’t know better, you’ve become a hidden master while I wasn’t looking.”

“Well, I am ready to step fully into the Seventh Realm, I think,” she said with a grin.

He turned on his side to face her, searching for some sign that she was joking. He found none. “Why don’t you, then?”

“Why do you think?” she asked. “Breakthroughs take months for us now. Even going from one stage to the next within a realm can take weeks, at least. I said I’d come with you on this quest. I’ll see it through to the end.”

“But if you can break through now—”

“We both know I’ve always been the more patient one between us. A few more months while we hunt down this legendary storm of yours won’t kill me. Might even let me have a better breakthrough, too.”

He Yu shook his head. “Yeah, but Divine Body Attainment.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. “We both know I’ve never been as ambitious as you when it comes to advancement. Don’t get me wrong, I know full well that nobody who keeps pace with you is anything short of an absolute monster. All of us are talents the likes of which I don’t think have ever truly been seen. You know the stories better than anyone else. Can you name a single expert who’s managed to come as far as we have anywhere close as fast?”

Admittedly, he couldn’t. Chen Fei was right. It was easy to forget just how insane all of their advancement was. When he’d first joined the sect, everyone had considered Zhang Lifen a peerless talent. He’s surpassed her record when he formed his Golden Core at a mere twenty years old. Now he was the same age as she’d been when they first met, and he’d long since surpassed where she’d been all those years ago.

He couldn’t let himself stop, though. Jin Xifeng still ruled the empire, and she stood at the peak of the Eighth Realm. He Yu half suspected she would break through at any moment. She’d been at the peak for so long. Granted, the past thousand years had been spent locked away in the Dawn Palace. But she had to have an immense cultivation base, even by the standards of her advancement. She may even be equal to an expert fully in the Ninth Realm already, if He Yu’s suspicions about the nature of her cultivation were correct.

Over the years, He Yu had spent considerable time working through the secrets of her power. He knew, based on what Zhang Lifen and Elder Cai had told him, that she gained power from those who pledged themselves to her. Based on what had happened when she’d finally shattered the Dawn Palace, and during the fall of the sect, she must have some way of reclaiming at least a portion of that power when her servants died. If her presence was anything to go on, the field of countless dead she stood upon was another clue.

While He Yu believed what Elder Cai had said—that no single cultivator could defeat her—he didn’t think it was that simple. It couldn’t be. If brute force was enough to overcome her, why hadn’t the empire in its entirety been able to bring her to heel? A thousand years ago, she had fought everyone. The entire might of the Dragon Empire had stood against her, and it was only through the sacrifice of Elder Cai’s cultivation and future advancement that she’d been stopped. And rather than defeat her outright, they’d only managed to imprison her.

There had to be something they’d missed.

As He Yu turned that problem over once again, he and Chen Fei reached the great steppe once again. The vast grass sea soon swallowed them both, stretching endlessly in every direction. The eternal sky above encompassed everything. They could stay here forever, if they wanted. He Yu felt as though the vastness might swallow him.

Instead, they set their sights north. There, a great and ancient storm churned. Liao Shan had confirmed He Yu should seek the storm. That within he would find the key to breaking through into the Seventh Realm—Divine Body Attainment. Although he wouldn’t specify what He Yu would find exactly, there were hints.

What Zhang Lifen had told him so long ago was as true now as it had been then. Ancient arts were different. They commanded greater prices. A piece of Tan Zihao’s story held the key for He Yu. Assent from primal gods—the protectors of the storm itself. To gain that assent, that recognition, that was what He Yu must accomplish.

As He Yu and Chen Fei flew ever north, the immense sky turned ever darker. Black, churning clouds flashed with the ever-present light of heaven. Thunder cracked and rolled over the steppe, and even though they weren’t yet even at the edge of the storm, He Yu could feel its power.

He could feel it calling to him. Inviting him. It was ready—ready to test him, to find him worthy or not. To reward his dedication or punish his folly. Liao Shan had told him to seek the storm’s center—it’s heart and the place where its fury was greatest. If that’s where his test awaited, that’s where he would go.