…of debate is [Soul Qi]. Alone, it is a peculiar [Affinity].

Akin to [Force Qi], or [Mind Qi], it possesses attributes that allow it to affect the material world, if predominately in those upon the Path of [Mind] cultivation.

Alchemists long seek out partners to augment their own powers by adding a [Spirit Beast] of this ilk to their side.

It is a natural augmenter, an enhancement that bolsters the myriad effects of an [Affinity] in multiple forms. To use a damaging [Art] with this [Affinity] would injure another’s soul - an effect not easily recovered from. To add to the refinement process of [Arrays] or alchemical formulas, it enriches the Qi there to give a greater yield.

Primers exist on this subject that delve into greater expertise, but this humble doctor has no desire to introduce tangents to his work.

Of note is its suppressive [Affinity], which is that of the elusive [Gold Qi], and itself, rendering it a queer and potentially dangerous element dependant on a cultivator’s circumstance.

This, and the low availability of ambient [Soul Qi] render it a troublesome energy to cultivate, not least for the streamlined [Boons] that one might gain during cultivation.

However, in the case of a [Two Pointed Star], or further, there comes a unique change.

A true whimsy of composite Qi.

- “The Whimsy of Composite Qi,” collated teachings by the scabies of [Humbled Divine Doctor]

Derelict shrines and tattered fabrics lined a peculiar avenue, one lit only by intermittent lanterns along its edge. It seemed a haunted place, for the deeper along dusty pavings that the pair walked the more vacant the scene appeared.

“No [Mystic Realm],” mused Fu. “But the scenery has shifted so swiftly that I am at a loss to our whereabouts.”

Tanshuai had fluttered forth to orbit a suspended lantern, no doubt impressing her view of the surroundings.

Fu’s own partners remained hidden. Hushi, dormant, and Shuidi - tasting the ambient Qi within the air. It was rich, and without the augmentation of the Four Shaded Spear. No [Summer] of [Winter] present, simply the dominant [Season].

“We’re no longer in the Four Corners Prefecture,” noted Zhu, of a similar mind to the [Spirit Crab].

Peculiarities continued on their path forward. Strange twists on ruination, where husks of buildings stood, ravaged only by time and no violent disaster. Storefronts void of supply and treasures, dust-coated and curtains, moth-eaten. The ink to name this, and indeed any establishment, long worn and faded.

But, in time, they crossed signs of life.

A shoreline wound adjacent to their current path, where tranquil, greying waters spread. No waves there, merely a still and ghostly body.

What connection might this place hold with beggars? Their Sect is shameless, and one of information gathering. I am blind to the use such a city could be.

“Our Master stored his documents here, so there must be merit to it,” said Zhu.

Fu nodded, grateful that his friend’s thoughts aligned with his own. He held quiet however, seeing that they had reached the end of where the lantern’s lead. It placed them before a warehouse upon the shore, warded by an oaken set of double doors.

Behind which a presence lingered.

Master Ban’s chit was presented in short order, and Fu gleaned what he might through the [Old One’s Whisker]. Though it returned no signs of [Arrays] nor components.

At this, the door opened and they were welcomed inside by a man in scholarly hanfu. The fabrics, tan, and his face was of little descript save for prominent cheekbones.

“The Beggar Sect greets its visitors,” he offered, but did not bow. “If you would follow.”

The interior of the warehouse proved expansive, and offered no insight as to its use. It appeared as no vault, but the banal hoops they had trudged through to arrive at least showed some measure of security.

This scholarly disciple stopped behind a lectern at the warehouse’s far end, a [Spirit Rat] atop it. Quill laden, with a wary look in its eye. It tapped its implement upon papers unseen, prompting the scholar to speak once more.

“It is unusual that two parties visit their repository within the same day,” he said. “Yet, as messengers, I would suppose it is hardly your concern. The details in this chit grant you access to a specific section of the vault, and to avoid confusion we shall pattern it green. Is this understood?”

Considering this, Fu dipped his head. “It is, master cultivator.”

“Very well,” he said, and gestured to the double doors from where they had entered.

This process could turn a man to madness.

They parted promptly, and to a chorus of Zhu’s mutterings. Yet these broke as the exterior was reached, for the sun now shone and any dilapidation was a thing of the past.

Once ruined, the city beamed white. Crimson banners draped across the streets, tied to the finery of ivory-white wood that clad each building. Patterned screens detailed myriad scenes upon each building, and there showed no blemish upon anything in sight.

“A [Dao Principle],” guessed Fu.

“I felt no release of its energy. No.” An oddity of plum light flashed upon Zhu’s [Bloodline], painting his eyes in the same hue. “We’ve walked into an [Inner Realm].”

Two questions rose, and were on the verge of Fu’s lips before attention was drawn to his navel. The loudness of it. “Our [Qi Suppression] fails.”

“A law here states we cannot hide then. My estimation of the Beggar Sect has grown,” replied Zhu.

Only consternation surfaced as Fu attempted to thread his [Clouded Ghost Arts] together, having sweat pool upon his brow for the effort. Then they merely walked on, knowing there was little they could do to change it.

“That is the first time I have seen your [Bloodline] glow,” said Fu. “If you were untrained by the Sect, would this always happen?”

Tanshuai came to rest on Fu’s shoulder. The patternage of her wings, aglow with the same. It was followed by nothing else, for Zhu seemed to ignore these words.

Thus attention shifted to the numerous buildings at either side. Freestanding structures now, marking this city as more a village than previously thought. [Winter] held no claim here as far as he might see, or it lacked the inhabitants to rotate their [Seasonal] comforts.

No central fireplace was held as most homes did, nor the exterior decking to allow flow. Myriad disparities lay beyond this, but noticing this confirmed a suspicion.

Few, if any, live here then.

“Thrice now. You’ve seen my [Bloodline] thrice, in moments of weakness. As I told the Master, I include only the [Karmic] aspects.” Zhu stopped dead, and put his intensity upon Fu. “We’ve talked much recently, on each other. Were you not a vexation, this might’ve been done sooner.”

“My reasons were shared,,” stated Fu, simply.

“Yes,” came the sour note. “But now I owe you mine. My path is of [Karmic] neutrality. Chosen purely from spite, as I’m a bitter, loathing fool. The [Mantra of Heavenly Plums]... it’s a tiresome discussion, but it allows me to glean another’s ties. [Might] and [Prowess] come as I breathe, whether I wish it or not. Put an axe in my hand and this [Inner Realm] could be bisected with a [Dao] I need not have insight for.”

A recollection of [Demons] flashed back, and of a scene within the [Twilight Lotus Expanse]. The conjuration of a spectral axe that left nothing in its wake.

“I am content,” said Fu.

“Content? With a man that denies an unparalleled heritage to distance himself from all that it represents?”

“Content,” he repeated. “With a friend named Zhu.”

Hushi and Shuidi impressed their agreement, and relayed such to Tanshuai.

Zhu’s brow lifted. “I’d expect your own heritage plays a part in this, and you’ve no inkling of what I deny. Indeed, I’m angered that you’d accept this explanation so readily. But such things can wait.”

“They can,” said Fu.

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The pair put their focus on a distant glow, one of verdant green that stemmed from a building some several hundred paces ahead.

🀩

That the entirety of such a structure housed a single ring somewhat underlined how prodigious the contents might be. Truly, Fu could not fathom what Heaven-shaking secrets might be stored within.

For their force, unnamed as it was, and their purpose regarding [Constellation Seeds]... it echoed a long-aged conversation with Long.

Arrogance and greed.

The contents of this ring tempted both.

Zhu threaded a chain through its center, and bound it tight in his palm. A precaution that would have it in his view at all times. “My [Dao Oath] wouldn’t react kindly to the thoughts I hold.”

“Nor mine,” confirmed Fu.

Yet with that, they left.

It was no grand departure, with no effect to be seen. Fu closed the screen with little ceremony, and the street was set down once more.

Save that voices roamed where none were before.

The second party, as the Beggar Sect’s disciple had warned. He had mused that no warring factions would tread the same series of vaults, with hope. It would undermine the service that the Sect provided to have trouble in this peculiar realm.

“Cloudy Serpent Sect,” Zhu offered. “Tanshuai hears serpents upon the ground.”

As such they drew into a quiet stalk, despite the detectability of their [Cores] should any cultivator expand their [Senses].

A party of three cultivators emerged betwixt two buildings ahead, merging to the road upon which Fu and Zhu walked. Attentions ahead, they paid the two men no heed and continued until they disappeared once more.

The recognizable roll of a screen sounded. Wordlessly the pair pressed forth, intent on avoiding a confrontation.

It was some ten paces from the building’s entrance when Zhu signalled, his face a shine of rare curiosity. As subtlety was a situational things for the man, the gestures he performed in silence were quite lost on Fu.

A circle traced upon his stomach, punctuated twice.

Sharing his history has pushed him to lunacy. I should not have pried.

But anything that stoked his friend’s attention was no trite matter, and he followed him towards the open screen.

Indeed, the cherry-red robes of the Cloudy Serpent Sect clad these cultivators. Serpents upon each shoulder, or engorged by their feet. Orthodox members that tread a path between curious barred cells.

Vaults each, and no prison, wherein myriad treasures were held captive. [Arrays], plentiful.

Fu spied there subtle variations on [Earthly Reprisal Arrays], and all manner of [Seal]. Put in place to further trouble any prospective thieves. He saw then, how the disciples danced. A peak choreography of the [Twenty Four Winding Cloud Step], which he knew to be a technique of high esteem.

Niwai might have gained insight from such a display.

Here the disciple and his [Spirit Serpent] cut such fine strokes that Fu’s eyes became blurry and transfixed in equal measure. What walls had surrounded them fell away to an expanse of turbulent sky, and the floor writhed with tendrils of greying cloud.

Until it was over, and the [Array] ahead released.

A barred door of serpentine fashion that then recoiled to reveal the pedestal within. The item upon it, a ferocious and imposing claw. Kin to that which both ghosts had gleaned before.

“This is no sight for you, juniors,” voiced the swordswoman, and vanished the [Splinter] into an unwieldy box of spatial design. Something ornate and set with a gallery of twinned, coiling serpents.

Fu could not help feel that his companion was injected with chicken blood. Emboldened, and frenetic through unknown means. For he stood upon the threshold, and clasped his hands in small greeting.

“Diligence bids us come, nothing more. Rare, that two parties are allowed to tread the Beggar Sect’s halls together,” he said.

The swordswoman considered this. “As you say, junior. But you may rest assured, we inner disciples have this in hand.”

“Apologies,” cut Fu. “These humble disciples imagine fire where not even smoke is to be found.”

“Indeed,” laughed another cultivator, a brutish woman whose [Spirit Boa] towered three heads above her. Its scales the colour of soot, and of a match with her Vajra cultivator’s [Ink]. “But truly, aren’t these juniors too inquisitive? Too bold?”

The third most, of level head - it seemed, placed a hand on the disciple’s shoulder. “Peace, sister, you would gain nothing from a spar. Should it be learned that we clashed with juniors during so simple a task, the Elder would be displeased.”

Fu was grateful for this man.

“Our business is concluded,” stated the swordswoman. “We take our leave.”

The ghosts parted to allow their departure, their heads bent in deference until the screen was closed behind them. To pay further respect, it was not until the three were truly gone from sight that they began to walk.

“Here stands a man that loathes mystery,” offered Fu. Hushi wriggled in good spirits, perhaps sensing Tanshuai’s embarrassment.

“I was forcing the water to recede,” came the reply. “I’ve been maddenned, and curious to know how it was that our seniors could sense the treasures we hold.”

Genuine surprise surfaced in Fu. “That was no answer I expected. It was bold, to approach those disciples. No less with the contents of that vault.”

This was brushed aside, and Zhu stood clear as if to demonstrate something. As with all things, plum light spilled from him. It coalesced where his [Hollow Ivory Splinter] was implanted and his second, nameless [Constellation Seed] to shine a spectral circuit between them.

“Guesswork would be tiresome, nor did this need to glow. Here is the gate that I won’t name in present company,” he said, shifting his eyes to the distant disciples’ direction. “Your own will hold three.”

A glow upon his [Primordial Constellation Gate]. To what end?

“I-”

“The whole. A [Sense] can be expanded through it. That’s how I know there were five seeds between those three disciples. My hope is that our Master will refine it, and more so, lavish me in resources for discovering it without his aid.”

Fu smiled. “Then I will be shameless, friend, and ask that you help me in receiving the same.”

🀩

Several days were a slow marker of progress, but Fu would not stand upon one leg. The roots of his foundation moved ever downward, solidifying with incremental growth. As a tree he might not stand against those with myriad [Seasons] of cultivation, with roots in networks that plunged deep into the earth.

Yet he was half-pleased all the same.

Their return was greeted with an empty desk, upon which Zhu had set Ban Bingbai’s spatial ring. There, for when the Master had completed what unguessable duties he had left to tend. As such Fu was once more within his quarters.

A lotus position adopted.

He set down the ‘Whimsy of Composite Qi,’ and gazed inward at his [Soul Qi].

An enhancement, yet I feel it disparate from my [Air Qi].

Indeed, where the gaseous energy of air rolled around his [Core], he could scarcely detect the composition within. If threads, he felt it to be a singular, off-coloured string amongst a grand weave of fabric.

There was little conversion to be had, and the ambient Qi was sparse in regards to it. Souls generated it, much as [Mind Qi] was cultivated by intensity of emotion, thought of volume of mingling beings.

Questions rose.

What might his [Half Cloud Step] appear as if empowered only by [Soul Qi]? Could it be used as a sprinkling of fuel? As extra oil upon a fire might? Would ratios conjure differing effects?

External manipulation of any [Affinity] would have to wait until he and Shuidi had put their cultivation in equilibrium. Further [Meridians] away.

“Shuidi,” he whispered. “I feel as though I neglect you, and do not wish you to form a poor opinion of your partner. This is the first spell in many that we might solidify our foundations. With [Constellation Seeds], our [Prowess] and [Dao], the list is expansive. Please, forgive me.”

The [Spirit Crab] was upon his knee, and only bowed.

“I am pleased to have such an understanding sister. It is my hope that you will guide me in [Qi Manipulation] when the time comes. To have an expert among us is a blessing from the Heavens themselves.”

A stack of tomes emerged from his spatial ring, a fresh supply from the [Vestiges] within the Clouded Archives. Perhaps a wasted use of the [Seasonal] access his Elder’s favour provided, though he would not stretch himself thinner at this time with new techniques.

Nor did he have the leave to visit home.

He put his thoughts away from Feng, from Yuqi and Yuling. The children excelled in all aspects, and Grandmother Hua… who would dare offend her by putting her kin in danger?

Thus he spread wide the [Clouded Ghost Arts] manuscript, and adopted the Open Eye poison into his [Hundred Poisons Synthesis]. Qi continually drained as he set about poisoning himself, revealing the page’s contents.

A route of [Meridians] was outlined, and revealed where best to search for his next step on the Path of [Mind].

[Water Qi] was an inherently liquid state in composition. It fragmented when entering he and Shuidi’s [Core], as if droplets floated amidst a vacuum. Though one brimming with air.

Imposing his will merged the two into his [Mist Qi], if at the loss of total energy. It appeared that Qi was spent in the transmutation.

Is it best practice to have only [Mist Qi] within my [Core], changed and ready at all times? Or do I lose something for this? Flexibility, perhaps, if I reach [Qi Manifestation] or [Manipulation].

“Are you ready, sister?” he asked, receiving a bow. Then, lifted his eyes to Hushi. “Brother, I am curious to discover what this holds in store for you, as well.”

The octopus remained beneath the douli, impressing his anticipation.

Pill-less, he took hold of the [Mist Qi] and spiralled it towards the [Impurities] he could sense there.

To immediate pain.

Fu continued, burrowing away at this immaterial shore with the energy he could muster. He did this until sweat gushed upon his brow, and intolerable heat began to radiate from… from his other [Meridians].

For hours.

Shuidi continued to draw in [Water Qi] from the ambient Qi, and Hushi thrust what [Air Qi] he could into the composition. Though his control over the secondary chamber ended at some unseen boundary, and he could all but affect the flow.

Further hours passed as the [Stifling Streams Revolutions] guided their passage, its [Air Qi] the medium, the current, for directing his inner mist.

But there came an end when Shuidi could draw no more, and Fu belched out a foulness of black ichor. A mere scraping of the [Impurities] that remained in this [Meridian].

The usual smell, tarnishing his room.

After long breaths, Fu summoned fresh clothes. “Our cultivation,” he attempted. “Those [Meridians] previously opened. The Qi within them does not wish to be pushed in other directions. Our impartment already long ingrained.”

Hushi descended, seeming weary and deflated.

Fu extended a hand to both his partners. “I see now why immortality is required. The toll, the quantity of Qi, the time. We are only on the first step of the second staircase. But I feel our [Meridians]. Days remain until it is cleansed. Beyond that…”

Shuidi puffed out a sigh of mist, perhaps so Fu did not need to.

Arrogance and greed. These villainous notions… often rewarding, are they not?