Chapter 186

I am lying on the bed of the Purple Garden Inn looking at the ceiling, and for the third morning in a row I reach exactly the same conclusion, which is that these vacations are the best idea I have had in a very long time.

And I think it knowing perfectly well what they are costing me, because this inn charges for each day an amount that on the first night made me go over the bill twice, and every morning, upon opening my eyes, I remember the bag of spirit stones Lianhua keeps and I imagine it a little thinner than the night before.

But I have spent two months without stopping. Weeks of carriage, a journey by river, two hundred-odd salmon, a serpent that almost killed me, a city I didn’t know and a meeting on which the next years of my life depended.

So when we came out of Lin Quingyu’s office and Wei Chun left us at the door of this inn, I made the only decision that has not cost me a single minute of sleep, and it was to do absolutely nothing for three days.

And I don’t regret a single spirit stone of the cost of this decision, because, in spite of everything, that cost has its explanation, and the explanation is that this inn has no rooms.

Or rather, it does have them, but not as I expected. I came with the image of a long hallway with doors on both sides and a thin wooden partition between my bed and the cough of the guest next door, which is the usual thing in any inn.

And here, on the other hand, the inn is made of small courtyards, each one with its wall, its door and several rooms around it, in such a way that whoever rents a courtyard is isolated in their own small area.

In my other life, that would have been advertised in a brochure with a great many photographs and the word exclusive in very large letters next to a price that would surely have been much higher than the one I am paying right now.

We have one with three rooms and a private bath, and I have rented it for a week, at least for now. One room is mine, we have turned another into a dining room and in the third Lianhua and Xia sleep.

And the bath, which is what truly justifies the price, is ours alone, without waiting for anyone and without any stranger having to see how Lianhua puts me into the water.

I am still in the middle of that thought of satisfaction when the door opens.

There is no knock, because Lianhua never knocks on my door in the mornings. She simply comes in, stops two paces from the bed and looks at me with the same expression as every day.

“Xiaojie”, she tells me. “It is time to get up.”

“I know”, I answer her.

“Xia has gone to the inn’s kitchens for breakfast”, she continues. “She won’t be long.”

And I sigh, because I have just heard the exact sentence with which my vacations come to an end.

So I turn my head a little on the pillow and search with my eyes for the beam that crosses the ceiling right above the bed, which is the first thing I looked for the night we arrived, even before looking at the bath, and next I do what I have done every morning since I have had the technique, which is to extend the hands of the Myriad toward the beam, grab on to it with nine hands and pull.

But nothing happens.

The beam, naturally, does not move, but I don’t either.

I notice the tension of the nine hands, I notice how they all pull at once, but they don’t manage to lift me off the pillow by a single hair.

I stay still a moment, with my brow furrowed, going over whether I have gripped badly, whether some hand has failed or whether I am simply half asleep.

But no, all nine are where they have to be, so I sigh, extend the tenth and last hand, hook it to the beam with the others and pull again.

And this time it works.

I come away from the mattress slowly, and when I am already in the air I straighten up until I am floating a couple of handspans above the bed, upright and completely still.

And there I stay, looking at the beam with considerably less affection than a minute ago.

“Lianhua”, I tell her. “Nine are no longer enough.”

Lianhua lifts her gaze toward me.

“I have needed all ten”, I continue. “All of them.”

Lianhua says nothing, but she nods slowly, like someone receiving a piece of news she had been expecting for some time.

“And that means I already weigh more than ninety catty”, I go on, because now that I’m at it I prefer to do the math aloud. “And since all ten together are the limit and I keep growing, before long I am going to weigh more than a hundred catty and this will be over. We are not going to be able to keep dressing me this way.”

I say it with more annoyance than I would like, because of all the things I have achieved with this technique, this is the least impressive and the one that matters most to me, which is being able to get dressed without feeling like a sack of rice.

Lianhua, meanwhile, has already turned around. She takes from the chest the clothing I am going to wear today, shakes it once with a sharp snap and comes toward me with it folded over her forearm.

“That is not a problem, Xiaojie”, she tells me as she begins to take off my sleeping clothes. “It is simply going back to the system from before.”

And she says it with her usual voice, like someone announcing that today the sheets have to be changed.

“But it doesn’t have to be that way forever either”, she adds as she passes the tunic over my head.

“Why do you say that?” I ask her as soon as I manage to get my head out through the collar.

Lianhua places one sleeve on me, and then the other.

“Because on the ship, while I was processing the spirit salmon with the Myriad of Hands, the technique rose to Adept”, she answers me.

I stay looking at her from above, which is a height from which I don’t usually look at anyone, with one sleeve still half on and my mouth a little open.

“On the ship?” I ask her.

“On the ship”, she confirms to me.

“And why didn’t you tell me then?” I ask her.

Lianhua crouches to take care of the lower part, passes the fabric over my feet and draws it up my legs, which I feel perfectly from my ankles to my knees while they hang there doing nothing to cooperate.

“I did not consider it necessary, Xiaojie”, she tells me. “The change was not as important as when I reached Adept with the Vision of Horus. That let me see in the dark, which is something I could not do before. This only increases the range.”

“By how much?” I ask her.

“Double”, she answers me.

And she says it exactly as if she were informing me that the tea is served, but before I have time to answer, she continues.

“But if the technique’s progression holds, it is to be supposed that at some point the change will be a different one”, she tells me. “Probably, in one of the following stages, what increases will be the weight each hand can lift.”

She straightens up, adjusts my belt and lifts her gaze toward me.

“And at that moment, being able to lift ten catty more with each hand, it would be more than enough for you to be able to lift yourself again without any problem”, she finishes.

Floating, I do the math after hearing her because I can’t help it.

Ten hands with double the strength each come to two hundred catty, that is to say, room to spare for all the growing I have left to do and on top of that several hands left free, which is exactly what I would need to be able to dress myself alone.

The problem is that the idea is very good, but it rests on an assumption.

And on my reaching that point, so I let out a sigh that comes out fairly long.

“Then it seems my priority is going to be practicing the Myriad of Hands as much as I can”, I tell her. “First up to Adept and then up to Expert, to see whether it is true that the weight limit increases.”

For a change of scenery, find the author's chapter on ; this copy was taken without permission, and reading there supports them.

I make a pause.

“Although that is going to take, in the best of cases, several years”, I finish.

Because no one needs to tell me. Lianhua learned this technique a couple of years before I did, she uses it every day and has just passed the first stage. And I have two left.

Lianhua does not contradict me, which is her way of telling me I am right, and I am about to add something when Xia’s voice arrives from another room.

“I’ve brought breakfast!” she says aloud.

“We’re coming right now!” I answer her, also aloud.

Lianhua, who throughout the whole conversation has not stopped working for a single moment, finishes arranging my clothes, puts her arms around me and tells me I can let go now.

So I let go of the beam, come down into Lianhua’s arms, and she carries me to the chair, positions herself behind it and pushes.

The room we use as a dining room is on the other side of the courtyard, and when Lianhua brings me inside, Xia has already set the table.

It is a simple breakfast, with a bowl of porridge for each of us, a platter of steamed buns, a plate of pickled vegetables and a teapot, and two of the inn’s waiters are finishing setting down the last things and withdrawing toward the door with the empty trays, with an inclination of the head as they look at me with a curiosity I return.

Lianhua brings the chair up to the table until the armrests touch the edge and then sits down to my left.

And Xia, who is standing beside her place with a face of satisfaction I know perfectly well, waits for Lianhua to sit before sitting down herself.

We eat for a while in silence, and I take advantage of that silence to put in order what I have been planning since we began our vacations.

“Well”, I say, and I leave the chopsticks resting on the bowl. “We have rested enough.”

Xia lifts her gaze from her bun and Lianhua does not change expression because she was already looking at me.

“Today the vacations are over and it is time to get to work”, I continue. “And the first thing is to get supplies, because without paper and without ink there are no talismans, and without talismans there is no way of getting more capital.”

And I say it thinking about the few talismans I have left and about that bag of stones that grows thinner every day we spend in this courtyard.

“Lianhua”, I tell her. “I have left you a letter of authorization drafted in my room.”

“Yes, Xiaojie”, she answers me.

“When we finish breakfast, take it and go to the Tower of the Five Dragons”, I continue. “Ask where materials for making talismans can be acquired in the name of the House of the Long Journey.”

I don’t explain the reason to her, because Lianhua was sitting in that office and heard, just as I did, that everything bought in the company’s name, with that letter and that seal, carries a tenth part discount, and right now I am in no position to ignore any possible advantage.

“And since you are going, take the chance to ask about something else, even if that information costs us money”, I add.

Lianhua waits for me to continue with my explanation.

“I want to know whether there is any agency, or any person, who is dedicated to selling or renting residences in this city”, I tell her. “And who is trustworthy. Because this inn is very good for a week, but we need to look for a place where we can stay long term.”

“I will take care of that afterward, Xiaojie”, Lianhua tells me.

But before I can pick up my chopsticks again, Xia leaves her bun on the plate.

“When you make talismans, you don’t need to make the ones for the fire Qi surge anymore”, she tells me.

I stay looking at her after her words.

“Why?” I ask her.

And Xia leans forward a little, with the face of someone who has spent days keeping a piece of news to herself and has finally found the moment to let it out.

“Because these days, while I was in the inn’s kitchen, I’ve heard the cooks and the helpers talking about what the merchants staying here say”, she answers me. “And they say that in the most eastern parts of the continent the fire Qi surge is already subsiding.”

She makes a pause.

“And that people think that within a couple of months, half a year at most, it’s going to end here too”, she finishes.

I don’t ask her what she was doing in the inn’s kitchen, because it would be the most foolish question I could ask this morning. In every place where there has been a kitchen since we left the Empire, Xia has ended up inside it.

What I do is let out a sigh, because the plan I brought from the Empire rested, in part, on that. On it being hot here too, on the heat lasting, and on a Freezing Talisman selling itself in that situation.

But it turns out that that situation is going to stop existing.

In my other life, that was called a seasonal product, and setting up a seasonal-product business just when the season is ending had another name that was considerably less kind.

“Then I am going to have to revise the plan”, I say. “And think about what talismans to make that can sell well when this is over.”

After those words, I look at Lianhua.

“Since you are going to the Tower of the Five Dragons, also ask them what kind of talismans they would like us to supply them with”, I tell her. “And at what prices they buy them.”

Because if anyone in this city knows what is going to sell in half a year, it is the people whose profession is international trade.

Lianhua nods after hearing me, and then we continue with breakfast.

We finish without much more conversation, and as soon as Lianhua leaves her chopsticks she gets up, makes an inclination of the head and then leaves the dining room, and a moment later I hear the door of my room followed, shortly after, by the courtyard door.

Xia gets up too, goes out for a moment, and after a while comes back accompanied by one of the inn’s maids. Between the two of them they clear the table in a couple of trips, the maid leaves with the last tray and Xia comes back in shaking off her hands, with the face of someone who is already looking for the next task.

And I, who am still in my place waiting for this moment, look at her.

“Xia”, I tell her. “Sit down. We need to talk.”

As soon as I say it, I realize I have said it in the wrong tone, because Xia stops mid-step, her face tenses and she sits down across from me very slowly, on the edge of the chair, with her back straight and her hands clenched on top of her knees.

“Have I done something wrong?” she asks me, and it all comes out of her very fast. “If I’ve done something wrong, I can fix it.”

“No”, I cut her off. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

And I say it quickly, because I see perfectly where this is going, and because that face of Xia’s waiting for a scolding is one of the few things in this world I cannot stand to see.

“I’m not going to scold you”, I continue, more slowly this time. “I just want to talk with you about your future.”

Xia looks at me one more second, and then her shoulders relax as she lets the air out through her nose, loosens her hands and leans back in the chair, with a relief so evident that I almost laugh.

“Okay”, she tells me. “And what did you want to ask me?”

“First, how are you doing with the Tempering of the Entrails and Veins?” I ask her.

Xia thinks about it a moment before answering, putting her answer in order, which is a habit she has picked up from Lianhua without either of them ever having taught it to her.

“After my birthday I didn’t cultivate at all”, she tells me. “We were on the ship and there was nowhere to clean off the impurities without making a mess.”

“I know”, I tell her.

“But at the end of the voyage, since I was eating little pieces of spirit salmon, my cultivation increased anyway”, she continues. “Although it was disgusting.”

I see how she wrinkles her nose at the memory.

“After every meal the impurities kept coming out little by little”, she explains to me. “And I had to keep cleaning them off with a damp cloth as they came out.”

And by the face she makes as she remembers it, it is not exactly the best memory she has brought back from that ship.

“But here there’s a bit more Qi than in the Empire”, she finishes. “So if I cultivate seriously, I should finish it in a few months even with all that fire Qi getting in the way.”

I nod.

“You might even take less time”, I tell her. “Because when we manage to settle down, I am going to try to create a Qi-gathering formation.”

Xia raises her eyebrows.

“It is going to be my first attempt at creating a formation”, I continue. “And if it turns out well, you should go considerably faster.”

Because I have read the Shangshu’s entire library of formations and I still have not had a single place of my own in which to try to make one. And of all the formations that exist, the gathering one is, by far, the one I know best.

But Xia, instead of being pleased, smiles, and it is not an innocent smile.

“I doubt it very much”, she tells me.

“Why?” I ask her.

“Because Lianhua and I are only going to be able to use the leftovers you leave”, she answers me.

And she doesn’t need to say anything more, because she is not wrong about anything.

Xia does not know why it happens, but she has spent a long time sitting in a formation right after me, and she knows perfectly well how the Qi of a formation is left when I finish, so I do the only thing I can do, which is to smile with considerable embarrassment.

“When we settle in, we’ll try to optimize the shifts”, I tell her. “We need all of us to have our own.”

And before Xia can keep pulling on that thread, I change the subject with all the discretion I am capable of, which with Xia is never as much as I would like.

“And have you thought yet about which Gate you are going to open when you finish the Body Tempering?” I ask her.

“The Earth one”, she answers me.

And she says it without hesitating half a second, as if she had had the answer ready for months.

Her answer doesn’t surprise me, because it is the most logical answer a cook can give who has just discovered spirit food and who, without that Gate, can only eat it in little pieces.

But Xia has not finished.

She straightens up in the chair, rests both hands on top of the table and looks at me in a way that is not her usual one.

“And I also think you should stop trying to open the Nature Gate”, she tells me. “And instead, open the Earth one too, like me.”

She says those words to me with firmness, and not with the firmness of a girl who has set her heart on something, but with that of someone who knows what she is saying, so, although I have spent months working on that Gate, which I chose after thinking about it a great deal, instead of being bothered I feel curious.

“And why do you think that?” I ask her.

Xia places one hand flat on the table, to her left.

“Because when we settle on our own, I’m going to have to make two different menus”, she tells me. “One for Lianhua, which is mostly spirit food, and another for the two of us.”

She places the other hand to her right.

“And when I open the Earth Gate, if you still don’t have it open, I’m going to keep having to make two menus”, she continues. “One for Lianhua and me, and another for you.”

Then she brings both hands together in the center.

“But if all three of us have the Earth Gate open, I can make a single menu”, she tells me. “And have it be almost all spirit food.”

And after those words she leans forward.

“And that’s going to make all three of us cultivate faster”, she continues. “A lot more than the Nature Gate is going to give us by sleeping less. Especially you.”

“Especially me?” I ask her.

“Especially you”, she repeats. “Because you can’t use the time you save on sleeping to cultivate. You don’t cultivate more by being awake more hours, because when you sit in a formation you leave it empty, and afterward you have to wait for it to fill up again anyway.”

And after those words she stops talking as she leans back in the chair and stays looking at me with her hands in her lap, waiting for my answer.

But I don’t answer her immediately, because I am seriously thinking over her reasoning and, the truth is, she is right.

I chose the Nature Gate, before anything else, for the hours of sleep.

Afterward I have kept finding more virtues in it, but the first reason was that. It seemed to me the best possible investment for someone who always has more things to do than the day has hours, and it seemed so to me because I imagined those hours full of reading, of talismans and of cultivation.

But the cultivation part has never been realistic, because ever since I have cultivated with the Resonance, what holds me back is not time, it is Qi, and the Qi does not come back any sooner because I stay awake waiting for it, and I have known that for years.

What leaves me speechless is that this reasoning has just been rubbed in my face by a twelve-year-old girl who doesn’t even know why it happens.