Reach Heaven Via Feng Shui Engineering, Drug Trade And Tax Evasion

Jian Wei’s office was surprisingly plain for his status. In the back of the room there was a single clean desk below a window of frosted glass, looking out into the sect courtyard where the celebration was taking place, letting in the only light in the room from the lanterns outside. Four landscape paintings adorned the plain walls, and some futons surrounded a small table with a steaming tea set, the smell of fruit filling the room. There were two doors - one they walked through, and one at the side - but not even a single shelf filled with documents or idle trinkets, accumulated over a long life, of the sort she was used to seeing among the elders of her sect.

Rui Bao chose to stay outside. When Qian Shanyi and Jian Shizhe entered, Jian Wei was standing next to the open window, his hands folded behind his back, wearing the dark blue and purple robes of the Northern Scarlet Stream sect. His long black hair, grown to his waist, was left to flow freely behind his back.

Spiritual energy in the air flowed gently into his body, vanishing beneath the skin. Building foundation, befitting of an Elder. He surely had heard them approach long before they entered.

The flow of the spiritual energy felt odd to her, and it took her a moment to place it. It was the asymmetry, more flowing in from the right than the left - and as she focused on it more, she realized with a start that the Elder’s left arm, and a good chunk of his left side must have been nothing more than a prosthetic, inert material lacking any true meridians - though excellently made. In the dim light, she couldn’t tell the difference between whatever material covered his false fingers and human skin.

Jian Shizhe stopped in the middle of the room, bowing to Jian Wei - almost casually, barely enough to be considered respectful. She stood a few steps behind, bowing as well, though deeper.

“I have done as you said, uncle,” Jian Shizhe said, “this here is fellow daoist Qian Shanyi. She is the one who transcended a tribulation just this morning.”

Jian Wei turned back from the window, nodding to the two of them.

“Thank you, Shizhe,” Jian Wei said quietly, gliding out from behind the table. “You may stay in one of the nearby rooms. I’ll call for you when we are done.”

Jian Shizhe nodded silently, and left the room at once. Qian Shanyi kept her face neutral, hands clasped politely in front of her.

Interesting.

She read about Jian Wei in the cultivator almanac, but the dry text left a lot of the nuances out, and she forgot much of it in the interim. She knew Jian Shizhe was his disciple, of course - a cousin, in fact - but that he let himself be addressed simply as “uncle” spoke volumes. Was he truly the one who sent the invitation? It seemed more and more likely.

She supposed she could have researched the man more before coming here - but after being perforated by a goat, figuring out the details of sect relationships was the furthest thing from her mind, and she trusted herself to improvise if necessary.

Jian Wei gestured to the futons, and she quietly kneeled down next to the small table. He took the seat opposite her. “I apologize for tearing you away from the well-deserved celebrations, but I won’t take up too much of your time.”

She reached forwards to pour tea for them both, but Jian Wei raised a hand to stop her, and did it himself.

Very interesting.

By etiquette, the younger - or less cultivated, as the case may be - person was supposed to do that.

She took a second to think it over, and then raised her eyebrows in surprise. She was feeling a little tipsy from the spirit wine, but she worked in worse circumstances before. “I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Elder. The invitation to this feast, this personal talk - to what do I owe the honor?”

“I try to meet every notable loose cultivator who passes through my town,” he said, picking up his tea cup, “to speak to them about their Dao and their cultivation. It helps to avoid…accidents, and it’s that much easier to find the ways to benefit each other.”

So it was him.

Gears spun lazily through her mind. She felt no threat, but nobody went through this sort of effort for nothing - and it was only polite to try to disentangle the schemes of a fellow cultivator.

What did she know about this man?

Her mouth opened on its own, spinning nonsense to give her time to think. “This humble daoist would not dare to call herself notable.”

“I have heard about your donation. Few loose cultivators would part with such wealth.”

“Wealth acquired through gambling on luck vanishes as easily as it comes, does it not?”

“And yet, you have still transcended one of the rarest forms of the heavenly tribulation, and survived,” Jian Wei said, raising his eyebrows at her. “It cannot be done with merely luck. False modesty does you no favors.”

She quirked an eyebrow in return, shooting a quick glance around the practically bare walls of the office. Talk about false modesty. Reaching forwards, she picked up her tea cup, cradling it in her fingers.

Back when she read the cultivator almanac a week and a half ago, she frankly did not focus on the sect elders, considering them of tertiary importance to cultivators of her realm. Jian Wei was… around seventy years old, she thought, though if he was an ordinary person he would have passed for thirty. One of the three elders of the Northern Scarlet Stream sect, which had been around for about half that time, though under a different name. Did he establish it himself? She couldn’t recall.

“Only because of the selfless help my fellow cultivators offered me, and even then only just.” She continued honestly, pulling the edge of her robe aside just enough to let her bandages show.

“Not even Gu Lingtian rebelled against the Heavens alone,” he said, “as for your injuries - are they permanent?”

There was no way he didn’t know this, if he paid for the treatment. Healer’s confidentiality only went so far. “The healer said I should make a full recovery.”

To understand an Elder, one must look at their sect. From what she could recall of the cultivator almanac, many of the cultivators who joined the Northern Scarlet Stream sect did so closer to the recent years, which would have meant that the sect was actively expanding. Oh how she wished she could have made a graph to be sure - she even had an entire day to muck around with it after the tribulation ended, if only she had thought to pay for a copy of the cultivator almanac and brought it with her into the inner world. Something to remember for the future.

Jian Wei shrugged, taking a sip of his tea. “In that case, my point stands,” he said, letting the statement hang - as if inviting her to contradict him. He showed little on his face, but if he truly wanted to know how she saw the world, then perhaps he enjoyed conversation for its own sake. She took the opportunity to stall more, by taking a long sip of her tea to mirror the Elder. It tasted sweet, of berries and peaches.

Growing sect, growing ambitions. Didn’t Wu Lanhua mention something about their main branch sourcing lenses from this town? So likely not only growing, but also getting involved in some new, innovative projects. Add the fact of their invitation on top - and it painted the picture of a cunning, resourceful individual, most likely angling to recruit a pair of talented loose cultivators who have just transcended a tribulation.

Speculation, of course, but one that was relatively easy to confirm.

“Surely even a kitten could ascend into Heavens through every tribulation, if carried in the hands of a mighty cultivator?” She said lazily, taking another sip.

“Few cultivators would dare take on two tribulations at once, merely to help a kitten.”

She shrugged. “Cultivation is ever a path of extremes. Who is to say what is common and what is rare?”

“Careless words, fellow cultivator Qian,” Jian Wei said, smiling slightly, “there are those from the ministry of statistics at this very feast.”

That smile. Did he realize what she was doing? Well, it mattered not - if he was who she thought she was, he should take it in good nature.

“Yet not in this room, are they not?” She shrugged again. “How could we say what my fellows in tribulation would and wouldn’t do? Surely more credit should go to fellow cultivator Jian - he lost his foot in the fight, after all.”

Jian Wei tapped his cheek in contemplation. For all that she was talking about his cousin coming to harm, he seemed entirely copacetic. “He was the first to come to your aid, from what I heard. My disciple is not so reckless as to put his life in danger on a mere whim - that means you must have impressed him, at the very least.”

Qian Shanyi shook her head slightly. Jian Shizhe, not reckless? He all but challenged Wang Yonghao to a duel, not knowing what he was capable of in the slightest. But she did not want to contradict the Elder directly. “Perhaps. Yet one cannot paint with but one brush, could they?”

“Out of the five of you, one is my disciple, and the other works in my town,” Jian Wei said, picking up on her implication. He was frowning slightly - perhaps her stalling started to grate on his nerves, and it was time to change tracks. “The third is a nomad, who I suspect will have little to say to me. I intended to speak to this Wang Yonghao as well - yet you came here first.”

She inclined her head, staying quiet and letting the Elder drive the conversation. This all but confirmed her guess - a nomad would never join a sect, of course, and the way Jian Wei pushed the conversation back towards her skills implied that was his true interest. That explained the invitation - and while she had no intention of accepting, she could still find a use for the relationship. But to do that, she needed to have a better grasp on the Elder’s personality.

“But there is another way to view this, fellow cultivator Qian,” Jian Wei continued, “that the Heavens chose to strike you down is notable in itself. Tell me, why did that happen?”

She had little to go on in regards to Jian Wei, but his image was reflected in Jian Shizhe, warped though it may be. The latter was disrespectful - though perhaps not openly - and that meant a conflict in their beliefs. But what kind?

Jian Shizhe mentioned putting down his sword, and the sect was founded some thirty five years ago - or just about around the time of the last imperial succession. Perhaps the answer was staring her in the face all along.

“To cultivate is to rebel against the heavens,” she began neutrally. If she was right, she had a good angle to take. “How could there not be great animosity between me and the bastards up top?”

Jian Wei inclined his head in agreement. “But this animosity takes different forms for all of us, and these days, most cultivators live their entire lives in peace. To bring down a tribulation - that must be a great deal of hatred indeed. What was its cause?”

She shifted around on her pillow, folding her hands on her lap. “I am afraid I cannot say,” she said, keeping her neutral tone.

“You do not know?”

“I do. But I cannot say.” She looked off to the side. “Elder, you have said that you seek to learn the beliefs of other cultivators, and that is exactly why I cannot say. Is information not ten times more valuable and a hundred times deadlier than any weapon? This is especially so for someone who knows how to use it. If I were to simply speak it aloud, would that not be as if I willingly handed you my sword?”

Jian Wei leaned back, considering her silently. She picked up her cup again and took a sip of her tea, keeping her eyes down. It really was very good.

“An interesting position to take,” Jian Wei said. A fair few of the elders of her sect would have been furious if she said something like that, but he was still calm. Another piece of the puzzle. “Especially when talking to one of the pillars of this town. It is my interest - and my duty - to make sure no cultivator brings in a weapon beyond our power.”

She shrugged slightly. It was a careful dance to not slip into outright disrespect, but she was confident she could manage it. “I only have the one sword, and the one position. To change it would break my spirit.”

“And if I compelled you to speak?” Jian Wei said, danger implied, yet not stated.

She put her empty cup down on the table, and shrugged, spreading both hands to her sides, “Like I have said, to cultivate is to rebel against the Heavens.”

She was rewarded with a slight twinkle in Jian Wei’s eyes. “You speak of philosophy,” he said, slowly. “A rare affectation, after the reformation, especially among the refinement stage cultivators.”

“Most cultivators are blinder than newborn kittens,” she said dismissively, “That they do not understand the meaning of their own actions is on their shoulders. They agree with me in spirit, and that is enough.”

“Do they now,” Jian Wei said, refilling both of their cups. There was interest in his eyes now. “Very well, then let us speak of philosophy. Back when I was at the beginning of the refinement stage, my Elders used to ask - we are cultivators, yet what do we cultivate? What would you say to that?”

A test, not a real question - for there was no one true answer. This wasn’t her first time hearing it - though her elders back in the Luminous Lotus Pavilion never deigned to ask her.

“The obvious, and wrong, answer would be that we cultivate strength,” she said, examining the steam coming off her tea. There was a very slight swirl of spiritual energy in the kettle - talisman to keep the water hot, no doubt. “After all, every stage of cultivation revolves around strengthening our bodies and souls, and the more we cultivate, the stronger we get.”

“Yet you say this answer is wrong?” Jian Wei asked her with fake curiosity. “Many cultivators would disagree with you. Do we not cultivate in order to resist the demon beasts? Do we not forge flying swords in order to slice apart the Heavens? Is it not by strength that Gu Lingtian brought them low?”

She nodded in acknowledgement. She was sure Jian Shizhe, for one, would say that, if her measure of the man was correct.

There were as many answers to that question as there were suns in the skies. Some would say they cultivated to reach immortality, others to find their Dao, yet others that they cultivated truth. But none of those were her answer.

“No,” she said, gesturing with her cup. “We cultivate freedom.”

“Freedom?”

“To cultivate is to rebel against the Heavens,” she said, “the question is not what we do to cultivate - but why we cultivate. It is not enough to say that the Heavens prohibits the practice - one must also answer why every cultivator chooses to spit in their face and reach higher than their station. They do so for their freedom, and that of their fellow people, wherever they know it or not. And once this is understood, why should they stand an imposition from any other source?”

“You speak of nomadism, and yet say other cultivators agree with you in spirit?”

“This is not about nomadism.” She shook her head. “It is about agency. Did every emperor not rebel against the previous one? The slaughter of the kitsune lords, the year of three emperors, the fall of the cultivator clans - too many are the events to count. Cultivators rebel against the Heavens, for the Heavens tie down their hands, and the empire grows stronger in the process. This is the meaning behind all cultivation.”

Jian Wei tapped a finger on his cheek. His gaze seemed distant, almost wistful. “It’s consistent enough, I suppose. I haven’t heard talk like that in… oh, thirty odd years,” he said. “It is rare, in our peaceful times.”

“Not all rebellion begins with a sword.” She inclined her head. “I am a daughter of merchants - there is great power in coin.”

“Is that so?” he said, that same glitter coming back to his eyes. “You have said information is as valuable as a weapon - but even the sharpest sword has a price.”

She smiled. “That it does.”

“And what is your price?”

“Information for a favor,” she said lightly, “I have a business proposition, one that I hope would benefit us both. But let us speak of it after I recover fully.” She gestured to her torso for emphasis. “All I ask is to be heard out, on fair terms.”

Jian Wei raised his eyebrows. Understandable - for a loose cultivator to offer something of that nature to a sect elder must be rare indeed.

She knew why he was asking, of course. If he really intended to recruit them, he needed to know what caused the tribulation, in case it brought one down on top of his whole sect. And most importantly, he needed to know who she was.

Why would a tribulation befell a cultivator who wore a sign of no sect? Why would this cultivator donate so many materials they rightfully earned? Out of foolishness, or because to them such wealth was a pittance, for they were merely traveling incognito?

He needed to know to make his own offer - and that meant he could not deny her this small favor.

She had no actual wealth - in fact, all the liquid money she had amounted to five spirit stones and change, all carried on her person - but so what? A perception of wealth was often as good as the real thing. It all hinged on painting a picture, one brush stroke after another.

“Very well,” he said, “Tomorrow, I will be leaving Glaze Ridge for five days to attend to sect business. You will receive a letter from me - present it at the gates of our sect after I return, whenever you are ready, and you would be given an hour of my time. And now, for your part of the bargain?”

“I have tricked the Heavens into making a Heavenly vow with me,” Qian Shanyi admitted easily, “and then I broke it. It was… a unique set of circumstances. I do not anticipate it repeating again.”

She could see he didn’t believe her. “It sounds like something out of a play,” he said slowly.

“I swear on my honor, and I have a witness of me making the vow,” she said, “they could confirm my words, if necessary.”

“No… No, I do not think it is,” he said, and she saw him finally make a decision. “How could I question the honor of a cultivator who transcended the tribulation? In fact… My sect is always looking for talented cultivators. Perhaps we could speak of that, after your business proposition.”

She shook her head. Now that she had set up the groundwork, denying the request was simple. “I am afraid I have prior commitments,” she said, “and as for what kind, this piece of information is, as of right now, not for sale.”

Suspicion in Jian Wei’s eyes grew another notch - she was sure that most loose cultivators in her apparent circumstances would have jumped at the chance. Another brushstroke. “And your partner?”

“You may make the offer,” she inclined her head, “I do not anticipate him accepting, but if he will, then I suppose I will as well. I will tell him your offer in full honesty, if that is alright?”

Jian Wei nodded, and rose, gesturing for her to do so as well. She bowed, and left through the doors.

Qian Shanyi’s pleasant talk with Jian Wei took longer than she expected - by the time she returned, the ox stew was already finished, immortal chef of the Northern Scarlet Stream sect helping assemble the dish and putting finishing touches on it. He was a younger man, and quite enjoyable to work with.

She only promised to help cook the first batch, in order to show him how it was done - after all, she was here to celebrate, not to work - and so she grabbed a plate, and was about to head over to where Wang Yonghao was sitting, when she realized he was missing entirely.

After asking the chef, it turned out that he was hiding away in a food cellar. She hummed a little tune as she headed down into it, her steps echoing on the bare stone floor before being muffled by sacks of rice and grain, and walls full of bottles and clay pots. She found him hidden among two shelves of wine, so full of anxiety he was just about ready to crawl up the walls. Even when he saw her approach, only a small part of the tension had left his body.

She brought a second plate with her, and offered it to him, sitting down next to one of the walls to enjoy her stew.

“Just as I suspected, the Elder wants us to join the sect,” she said, getting straight to the point.

“What?” Wang Yonghao scowled. “Absolutely not!”

“Yeah, about what I expected,” she nodded, “I told him as much. He still wants to talk to you. For what it’s worth, he seemed incredibly reasonable to me - if you can manage to avoid insulting him to his face, there should be no danger.”

She looked around the storeroom. It was pretty dark, only lit by a lamp she brought with her. Wang Yonghao had a lamp of his own, but he powered it down. “What were you doing in here, anyways?”

He sighed, covering his face with his hands. “When you left, those other cultivators have all but dragged me into some kind of tournament. I had to flee and hide in here.”

She tapped her spoon against her teeth. “Hm. Yes, I should have expected that. Sorry for leaving you alone.”

“It’s fine.” He waved her off, and breathed out deeply, picking up his bowl of stew, and his face lit up with pleasure. She gave him a quiet minute to contemplate things, and sure enough, he started talking again. “At least nobody tried to fight me…yet…”

She wagged a finger at him. “Putting yourself down again? What did we talk about, Yonghao?”

He gave her a guilty look. “Sorry,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself. “Okay, honestly, this wasn’t too bad. This stew is delicious. The music was nice. Hui Yin even was starting to put some kind of impromptu theater together, and I was looking forward to it, before that damned tournament -”

“You like theater?” she interrupted him, before he could sink deeper into the funk. “You even said you wanted to visit the one in Golden Rabbit Bay before, I think?”

“I guess. Doesn’t everyone?”

“No, I wouldn’t say so,” she said, tapping her cheek. “Perhaps we could swing through there again, once we have a more stable handle on things.”

She could also check on her family. Good idea all around - she just needed a way to avoid her sect.

“Maybe you weren’t wrong when you said I should come.”

“I didn’t say that.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I said it was fine for you to stay in the tavern. You are the one who decided to come.”

He sighed again. “I guess that is true. Sorry, I am doing my thing again.”

“Just keep working on it. So, will you go and talk to the Elder?”

He grimaced at her. “He really was fine with you just rejecting his offer?”

She shrugged. “I said I had a business offer for him, which I do. I suppose that it mollified things a bit. Just keep things vague and you should be fine.”

“Then I guess I will go, yeah. And what will you do in the meantime?”

“Me?” she said. “Going to find someone to warm my bed tonight, is what I will do.”

Wang Yonghao scowled at her, predictably. “Why do you always have to turn everything into a joke?”

“Who is joking?” She raised her eyebrows. At least the annoyance seemed to drown out his anxiety. “Sex is best after a victory, and this was a damn close - and glorious - victory, even by my standards. It even got us a potential business partner. I worked very hard to make it happen and almost died - and so I intend to relax equally explosively.”

“You have holes through your lungs!”

“I will be very careful, I assure you. They do not bleed anymore, which is all that matters.”

“And how do you intend to find someone? There’s no brothel in this town.”

“Brothel?” She snorted. “Why would I need a brothel?”

“To… hire a prostitute?” Wang Yonghao said slowly, beginning to blush. It seems that what he was saying had finally caught up with him. “To do, you know, the deed? It’s not like you could marry an honorable cultivator on the spot…”

“Please, Yonghao.” She laughed. “Mariage? Show me ten honorable cultivators who swear by marriage and I will show you seven hypocrites. Or would you like to bet I couldn’t bed even one before the sun rises?”

“I am definitely not going to gamble with you.”

“Ah, so he can learn.” She smirked, running a hair through her long hair. “Good. You know, there is a saying that in every bet there is one fool and one trickster?”

“What, you’ve already slept with someone?”

“Yonghao!” She gasped in mock shock, clasping a hand over her mouth. “How could you say something like that?!”

He just squinted at her in suspicion, not reacting.

Bah, no fun.

She leaned forwards, whispering conspiratorially. “I couldn’t possibly fuck someone this quickly - you need to savour these things. It’s best to go for hours.”

He groaned, and got up, covering his face in his hands, his stew forgotten. With how slowly he was eating, he only managed to finish about half.

“We are not talking about this!” he said, heading for the doors. “I am going to go talk to that Elder and then I am going back to the tavern!”

“You should find someone as well!” She called after him. “You’ve just transcended the tribulation - man or woman, all the local cultivators should be all over you!”

He groaned again, louder this time, and left the room, her cackling echoing after him.