Book 2 Chapter 75

Sighnaq was unlike any city Bai Ning had ever seen.

She had never had the opportunity to visit the Cloud City of the Nine Heavens back in the Thousand Shattered Islands, though every account she had heard described it as the grandest city of the islands, the beating heart of the Righteous – now, Noble – Alliance. Perhaps one day she would see it for herself. For now, the only cities she had known were smaller ones: Blackrock City, Jadeflame City, Renbinmi City, and the like.

And then there was the Capital. Calling that place a city had always seemed like a distortion of the word itself. The Capital was too vast, too crowded, too layered, too absurdly alive to fit neatly into any definition that had once made sense. Adding city to its name felt like doing a disservice to both the place and the word.

Sighnaq, however, was strange in an entirely different way. For one thing, it had been laid out for a people who possessed as many four-legged inhabitants as two-legged ones. There were no streets in the sense Bai Ning was accustomed to. Instead, broad dirt tracks wound between the tents, flagpoles, bonfires, and scattered clusters of rugs. They were not merely broad by necessity; they were immense, each one wide enough to serve as a major thoroughfare in any city she had known. Even the narrower paths branching away from them were spacious enough for several riders to pass abreast. What little she could have called alleys were wider than some of the streets she had grown up with, while the occasional cul-de-sac seemed capable of accommodating an entire caravan.

Only the Capital had prepared her for that sort of excess. And Sighnaq had no walls to contain it. The city seemed to stretch outward without any obvious boundary, a sprawling sea of canvas and hide beneath the enormous sky. Tents of every size crowded together in loose formations, some little more than shelters over sleeping spaces, others elaborate enough to resemble mansions despite being made from cloth and poles. Tall standards and colorful banners rose above them, marking clans, tribes, businesses, or perhaps simply the pride of whoever had planted them. Smoke curled lazily from hundreds of fires, carrying the smells of roasted meat, herbs, horse – or Yuan – sweat, incense, and unfamiliar spices through the dry air.

The second difference was even stranger.

Sighnaq did not have layers. Almost every cultivator city Bai Ning had visited had developed a second life above the first. Cities were built on mountains, in valleys, across plains and sometimes atop one another, but wherever cultivators gathered, the air eventually became another road. Core Formation cultivators and those above could fly naturally, while Qi Condensation cultivators and above could take to the sky with the help of suitable magical tools. Given the choice between walking and flying, cultivators had long ago developed a habit of simply taking to the air.

It was reflected in everything. Markets had balconies and suspended platforms. Buildings rose in tiers. Bridges crossed streets far overhead. Towers and pavilions reached toward the heavens, while cultivators streamed between them in every direction, turning the sky into a second thoroughfare.

Sighnaq had none of that. The Yuan could fly. Bai Ning had already seen enough of them doing so to know that they possessed no particular aversion to it. Yet the city itself remained curiously tethered to the earth. It spread outward rather than upward. Tents, rugs, bonfires, pens, stalls, makeshift shrines, piles of supplies, and temporary shelters seemed to spring from every available patch of ground. There were no towering structures competing with the horizon. Nothing pierced the sky except smoke, banners, flagpoles, and the occasional flying Yuan. The result was strangely intimate despite the city's enormous size. The horizon was always visible. The sky was always there, impossibly vast and blue above them, and the Steppes seemed to press against the city from every direction.

The third difference was the one Bai Ning found hardest to ignore.

She had yet to see a mortal. She knew, of course, that the Yuan had no concept of mortals and cultivators in the way the Empire did. To the people of the Steppes, there was no meaningful distinction. Everyone born beneath the Eternal Blue Sky began cultivating early, bathing in the lingering essence of the dead Immortal Qilin from birth. But Bai Ning was accustomed to mortals, if not accustomed to noticing them, perhaps. That was different.

They had always been there, at the edges of things. Shopkeepers who lacked the cultivation to protect themselves. Farmers tending fields beneath the shadow of a sect. Children carrying baskets through streets crowded with cultivators. Servants, craftsmen, merchants, laborers: ordinary people who lived their entire lives beneath the overwhelming presence of those who could command qi. In most cities, they formed an invisible layer beneath everything else.

Their absence made her strangely uncomfortable.

Only her, though.

"Look," Chen Zhuhe said enthusiastically. "The entire thing is made out of bones, and the inscriptions have been burned into them. It is nothing like I have ever seen. How does the formation even function with the sheer amount of fire qi it-"

"Yes, yes." Li Kang cut him off with an annoyed wave of his hand. Bai Ning snuck another glance at him, feeling incredibly guilty for doing so. It was just that his transformation into a Yuan warrior had done him well. He cut a dashing figure: broad shoulders, gleaming scales like emeralds stretched over distractingly taut muscles, and golden fire framing his face like mussed-up curls. Half the women on the street seemed to take a second look as they walked past. "You're in love with these novel formations and want to spend hours studying them. Need I remind you that we have only the day, and still need to make our way to the edge of the encampment?" He finished by extending a hand toward what was supposedly the end of the city.

Nearby, a Yuan woman – four-legged – paused to look at their group. The three of them were dismissed almost immediately, while Li Kang, however, received a long, thoroughly assessing look. Yue Shuangyi looked irritated, but since they were all pretending to be Qi Condensation cultivators, all they could do was bow their heads and move on. The three of them, that was. Li Kang was completely oblivious, which Bai Ning wasn't sure whether to be thankful for or not.

Chen Zhuhe made his feelings clear. "I am not in love with anything. These formations could double my understanding of formation art, and this is an incredible opportunity. If you want to talk about love, take a look around you. You're the one attracting attention, not me."

"Huh?" Li Kang asked, puzzled, tilting his head.

Yue Shuangyi threaded an arm through his, her own crystalline pale-blue scales flashing in the sunlight, and tugged him forward. "Forget Zhuhe. Come on."

Bai Ning followed along, a smile tugging at her lips. That was another strange thing about this city. Here, she and Yue Shuangyi were mostly ignored, while Li Kang was the center of attention. Not a single Yuan turned to look at Bai Ning as they passed. That was rare. Normally, she could not take five steps without some man leering at her. And though she would never admit it, the lack of attention was a little... disconcerting.

The four of them moved on. The market they were passing through was fascinating, but Bai Ning's attention was mostly occupied by the people. They were unlike anyone she could recall encountering elsewhere. The Yuan were freer, more physical, more openly affectionate than anyone she had ever seen. They clapped each other on the back, gripped hands in greeting instead of saluting, hugged with startling frequency, and seemed to treat clothing more as an accessory than a covering.

Most cultivators had scales enough to preserve their modesty, after all, which left clothing to serve more as a display of status than something worn for comfort or necessity. Because there was no way that ostentatious gold-and-white embroidered... handkerchief... was actually covering anything. Nor did it need to be quite so eye-catching for a loincloth.

Bai Ning tore her eyes away and looked toward her friends. Chen Zhuhe had once again been waylaid by a salesman, this time one offering a horn filled with spiritual milk. Li Kang and Yue Shuangyi stood beside them, one looking equally interested and the other thoroughly exasperated. Bai Ning walked over, not bothering to repress her smile as Li Kang complained about not being allowed to join in.

Yue Shuangyi caught her eye. Her stern expression softened. White hair, threaded with faint golden flames, streamed behind her in the wind. "You are smiling more honestly, Sister Bai. I am glad to see it."

Li Kang, who had stopped trying to join in and was now watching Chen Zhuhe cough his way through the milk, also turned serious. Bai Ning would have warned him, but the drink wasn't dangerous, just spicy, from what she remembered of trying it at the Kiyat camp. "She's right," Li Kang said. "You look more settled. Finally willing to tell me what was bothering you? And don't say Shen Jinglan. I mean something other than her."

Bai Ning might normally have rolled her eyes or blustered her way out of the question. Instead, she smiled ruefully. Her friends had been worried about her. They had never tried particularly hard to hide it, not even at the Wall. She had put them off by mentioning Shen Jinglan, telling them that story, but even then, she had known it wasn't the whole truth.

General Qing had helped. Coming to the Wall had helped. And... and being somewhat removed from Master Mo Jian had helped. The thought made her feel disloyal, small, even.

She kept her voice light and casual as she replied. "It is nothing. Just... I failed twice at reaching the mid-stage of the Core Formation realm."

She had to fight to maintain that tone, even as a hot flush of shame bloomed in her stomach. Master Mo Jian had not said a word. If anything, he had been encouraging. But Bai Ning could not shake the shame. There was so much hanging in the balance, and here she was, struggling with something she had never struggled with before, not even once.

Master Mo Jian had already stepped into the mid-stage of the Nascent Soul realm at a speed that bordered on the impossible, while she was stumbling over something so basic. The events at the palace, Shen Jinglan's death, the looming threat of the Immortal of Slaughter... Bai Ning could not say when it had begun, but her mental state had been – poor – for a long while.

She felt stuck. As though she was no longer growing, or at least not growing fast enough. And the more she dwelled on that feeling, the more firmly it seemed to hold her in place. Thinking back over her actions and words during the past year, there was nothing she could point to and say, That, that was influenced by a heart demon.

But now...

The person she had been in the Thousand Shattered Islands – the girl who had come to the Capital with resolve in her eyes and a burning desire to help Mo Jian – would not have approved of the woman she had become. And that was fine; people grew, changed, sometimes even became strangers to their past selves. But what about the fact that Bai Ning did not approve of herself now?

She should have caught it, could have caught it, but a heart demon? She, Bai Ning, afflicted by one? It was that useless arrogance – an arrogance she insisted was merely appropriate pride – that had made her overlook it. Even Master Mo Jian had not noticed. He did not know even now, because she had no intention of telling him, or anyone else.

General Qing had noticed, but she had not said a word about it. That, at least, had told Bai Ning that her own approach to dealing with it was probably correct. Mo Jian had taught her long ago that heart demons could be excised through external means: powerful yang qi, Sun-Return Glacial Essence, Extra-realm Heavenly Lightning, and other methods, too. But all of them were wrong, or, at least, suboptimal. Cultivators were not supposed to rely on such methods. They existed for when the proper method failed.

And the proper method was that there was no method. A heart demon formed on its own, born from doubts, hesitation, fear, guilt, shame, pride, or other negative emotions and qi deviations. Therefore, it could dissipate on its own, too. All a cultivator had to do was properly examine their heart and undo the knot within it.

Live, and live well. Deal with your emotions. Deal with your actions. Accept the consequences.

That was all.

Bai Ning had never thought she would have to deal with a heart demon herself. Perhaps that was another reason she now needed to.

"As always, you put too much on your shoulders." Yue Shuangyi bumped her softly with an elbow. "Not reaching the mid-stage is hardly unexpected. You broke into the realm less than two years ago. Is that what has been eating away at you?"

That, and a whole lot more, though Bai Ning did not say it aloud. She simply nodded. "It was, but I know better now. Don't worry, Sister Yue. I won't fall into the trap of overthinking it again."

Li Kang nodded sagely. "I have always found that best. Not to overthink."

"Remove the 'over' from that, and your description becomes quite apt for yourself," Chen Zhuhe called from the side. He had finished his horn of milk and rejoined them, though his expression was thoroughly disgusted. He coughed once or twice, as though he could somehow blanch the taste from his mouth. Bai Ning knew he preferred sweets – much like herself – to spicy food.

"You bastard," Li Kang began, and off they went, fighting once more.

She and Yue Shuangyi exchanged a look and rolled their eyes before the four of them continued on. Bai Ning was just wondering whether they should walk all the way to the edge of the city and wait there, or perhaps find something resembling an inn where they could while away the hours, when something caught her eye. A crowd of Yuan had gathered around a tent. That, in itself, was hardly unusual. In a city this large, there seemed to be a crowd for everything. What they were gathered around, however, was another matter.

They were all leaning over a large, square wooden well, peering into its depths with varying degrees of fascination. The well itself was unremarkable at first glance: it had four thick wooden sides, reinforced with dark metal bands and covered in strange markings. Something about those markings tugged at Bai Ning's memory. She slowed. Her friends noticed and slowed with her, following her gaze toward the crowd.

"What is it?" Chen Zhuhe asked.

Bai Ning shook her head. "I'm not sure. I've seen something like that before."

Yue Shuangyi stared for another moment, before her eyes widened. "A Minute Well," she exclaimed.

Li Kang and Chen Zhuhe both stumbled to a halt.

"Surely not," Li Kang began, but Bai Ning recognized it too. The moment Yue Shuangyi had given it a name, the memory snapped into place. Those markings on the wood matched the ones she had read about in the scroll perfectly. The four of them exchanged looks, awe and excitement plain on every face. Then, as one, without needing to say another word, they headed toward the well. They had to see this.

Thankfully, despite the size of the crowd, the well had not attracted enough attention to be completely surrounded. Bai Ning and the others found a gap near one corner and squeezed themselves into it, ignoring the curious looks of the Yuan around them.

Bai Ning leaned forward and stared. The inside of the well was another world. A broad plain of grass stretched beneath a blue sky, almost like a meadow. A circular track of packed dirt had been cut through it, though calling it circular was perhaps too generous. The track turned and shifted, wound around itself, crossed its own path, and looped along the edges of the miniature world in a bewildering pattern. Everything around it had been reduced to miniature. Trees no taller than her hand rose from the grass. Tiny flowers dotted the edges of the track. Wooden posts had been driven into the earth at regular intervals, marking the course. And there were people inside, five tiny Yuan racing along the track, each barely as large as Bai Ning's finger. Even at that size, their features were clearly visible. Their scales flashed beneath the miniature sunlight as they raced neck and neck toward the next bend, kicking up tiny clouds of dust behind them.

Bai Ning's breath caught. It really was a Minute Well. She had read about them in the Scrolls of Hatimai, written by a legendary Nascent Soul cultivator who had lived nearly two thousand years ago. Treasures from before the Shattering, Minute Wells were spatial constructs containing entire miniature worlds within them, or, more accurately, patches of space that had been compressed and anchored inside a physical vessel. Anyone who entered would be reduced in size along with anything they carried. Upon leaving, everything would return to its original dimensions. They were a strange hybrid between a spatial world and a storage pouch, though vastly more complicated than either.

Before the Shattering, Minute Wells had apparently been common enough to serve all sorts of purposes like tournaments, races, training grounds, and even experiments with dangerous spells and abilities that would have been too destructive to attempt in the outside world. The Empire still possessed at least one. The Western City of Kucha had a Minute Well, and according to the scroll, it was one of the greatest treasures belonging to the City Lord himself. It was the sort of treasure that belonged in vaults, like the Song clan's World of a Million Cubes.

Not...

She looked around. A shopkeeper's tent in the middle of Sighnaq, with a crowd of Yuan leaning over it with the casual enthusiasm of people watching a street performance. A shopkeeper who was using it to run races.

"That's really a Minute Well," Chen Zhuhe whispered beside her. His voice had the same reverence she felt.

Li Kang looked almost offended by the sheer absurdity of it. "The Yuan have one?"

"Apparently," Yue Shuangyi murmured.

"Why doesn't the Khan seize it? Does he not know it exists?" It was a perfectly valid question, yet merely hearing it spoken aloud felt absurd.

Bai Ning wondered for a moment if perhaps this was some elaborate illusion. A Minute Well was a priceless treasure; all spatial artifacts were. Cultivators in the Empire had spent centuries trying to unravel the mysteries of spatial power, hoping to reclaim even a fraction of the knowledge their ancestors had possessed. And here, a genuine Minute Well was being used for races.

Then the answer occurred to her. "Because it doesn't matter," she said, answering her own question, and perhaps, Li Kang's as well. "To them, it's just an exotic trinket. They don't care about uncovering the mysteries of the past, and it's not as though a Minute Well has any great military application. Other spatial treasures can be used for war, but a Minute Well?"

She gestured toward the miniature world. "It's interesting at best, not dangerous. The Khan probably doesn't care about it. To the Yuan, it's just another treasure."

Only after the words left her mouth did Bai Ning realize she had spoken too freely. She glanced around. Thankfully, the Yuan nearest them seemed far more interested in the race than in their conversation. No one appeared to have paid them any attention. Still, she felt a prickle of unease. Muxue was no longer here to make sure their conversations remained safe. They had to be careful now. They were infiltrators and enemies in the Yuan Steppes, surrounded by people who knew nothing of their true identities, and the last thing Bai Ning needed was to forget that.

After a while, they moved on. There was little reason to linger. The Minute Well was fascinating to see, but only at first. Once the novelty had worn off, watching five tiny Yuan run around a miniature track became surprisingly boring. No wonder the crowd was so sparse.

Bai Ning followed her friends through the market, listening to Chen Zhuhe and Li Kang resume their argument while Yue Shuangyi occasionally intervened to keep it from becoming an actual fight. The city still stretched endlessly around them, a mix of canvas and hide, smoke and sunlight. Four-legged Yuan moving alongside two-legged ones, while banners snapping in the wind. The distant calls of vendors and the constant movement of people and beasts beneath the vast blue sky created a sound that was ever-present, almost like the sound of waves back home.

It truly was unlike anywhere Bai Ning had ever been. And, for now, she found herself simply walking with her friends, watching the strange world around her, and not thinking about everything waiting for her beyond it.

The knot in her heart loosened by the tiniest bit.

Progress.

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