Shadowwwing
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21. Unseen Advantages
🕑 Added 2025-03-29 06:04:26 +0000 UTCJiang sat cross-legged in his room, eyes closed and breathing steady as he guided Qi through his recently cleared pathways. He’d made surprisingly steady progress towards his first meridian, and though he wasn’t ready to try clearing it yet, with some effort he should be able to break through to the second stage of the Qi Condensation realm before the end of the exams. It wouldn’t be easy by any measure – cultivation was more tiring than the most gruelling hunt – but he wasn’t about to complain.
Every bit of progress brought him closer to finding his family, and if that meant spending his evenings in a dull room straining to feel the barest flicker of Qi, so be it.
Today had been long. After the monotony of laundry duty, he’d quickly returned to the Job Hall and snatched another task off the board of menial chores, the type reserved for servants and the lowest of Outer Sect disciples. Running messages wasn’t glamorous, but at least it gave him a chance to familiarise himself with the layout of the Azure Sky Sect, something he’d quietly confirmed with the washerwomen earlier in the day.
He’d gained another three contribution points for his troubles, and while he still had no idea what the number to strive for actually was, it was quickly becoming apparent that he wouldn’t reach it by completing tasks. Maybe for the aspirants whose cultivation was already high enough to tackle the dangerous tasks – or those that banded together – it would be a manageable goal, but for him…
Well, hopefully, the promised points for breaking through were high enough for him to pass the exams.
A polite knock at the doorframe to his room broke his focus, scattering his concentration like startled birds.
He exhaled, mildly irritated, but stood and swept aside the curtain leading to the central area. To his surprise, instead of one of his roommates, a servant bowed stiffly at him. “Aspirant Jiang, Elder Lu has summoned you.”
Jiang blinked. Summoned? Again? This was becoming suspiciously routine – though apparently, the Elder had better things to do than collect him personally. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”
The servant bowed once more and stepped aside, waiting patiently for him. It looked like the man was going to escort him – which, in fairness, would have been helpful if he hadn’t already asked the Matron where anything important was.
Jiang straightened his robes and rubbed the stiffness from his knees. Besides the advice and directions, the Matron had also insisted on giving him a set of robes. They would help him blend in better, or so she claimed at least.
He’d tried to refuse – repeatedly – but hadn’t held up long against her chiding expression. He wondered briefly if it was something all mothers knew instinctively, or if they had to be taught. Either way, it was an effective technique, and he’d been forced to admit defeat.
The robes were… well, if he was being totally honest they actually weren’t so bad. Certainly in better shape than his hunting leathers, and he didn’t hate the colour – a nice sky blue – and he had noticed a distinct drop in the number of odd looks he was getting once he started wearing them, but… they just felt so weird.
Somehow too constricting and too loose at the same time. Like they’d slip right off if he moved too quickly, yet still stiff enough that he couldn’t stretch properly. He’d probably get used to it eventually, but for now, Jiang felt like an imposter dressed up in borrowed silk.
As they entered Elder Lu’s compound, the servant bowed and faded away silently, leaving Jiang to approach alone. Elder Lu sat at his usual spot on the small raised patio, a steaming cup of tea already in hand. Jiang wondered idly if the Elder ever actually did anything other than sip tea and stare thoughtfully into space.
Elder Lu glanced up, a slight smile touching his lips as he took in Jiang’s new robes.
“Well now, boy, you almost look like a proper cultivator!”
Jiang huffed, but didn’t dignify the comment with a response.
Elder Lu chuckled softly. “Give it a few days. You’ll soon wonder how you ever lived without them.” He tilted his head, considering. “Or perhaps not. You seem stubborn enough to resent even comfortable clothing if you didn’t choose it yourself.”
Jiang snorted softly. “They feel flimsy. Like they’d tear far too easily.”
“Most people here spend their days cultivating in peace rather than diving through thornbushes,” Elder Lu pointed out with faint amusement. “Besides, they’re tougher than you think. We often need to fight in these robes, after all.”
Jiang slumped onto the free cushion, feeling the Elder’s eyes on him as the man poured tea into the waiting cup. What cultivators had against actual chairs, he would never know. With a subtle quirk of his lips, Elder Lu pushed the tea towards him.
Jiang suppressed the urge to grimace. The tea was bitter—grassy, even—but he recalled Elder Lu’s previous, pointed lesson on the subject. Picking up the delicate cup, he took a measured sip, managing to keep his expression neutral. Barely.
The Elder chuckled softly, amusement dancing behind his calm gaze. “Remarkable. Perhaps you’re not entirely hopeless after all. Don’t worry – as tempted as I am to torture you with polite conversation, the entrance exams are a busy enough time for aspirants that I’ll be merciful. Tell me, how has your search for contribution points gone so far?”
“Not great,” Jiang admitted. “I have earned a grand total of six points today.”
“Ah.” Elder Lu grimaced.
“I’m guessing that rate of progress is not going to be enough,” Jiang remarked dryly. “I don’t suppose you know how many points are required?”
“The exact number is never directly told to the aspirants,” Elder Lu explained after a moment’s hesitation. “We’ve found that doing so can lead to more conflict than is healthy, especially as various aspirants realise they are not going to make it. Desperate people make all sorts of bad decisions. Technically speaking, I shouldn’t even be telling you this much, but it should make enough of a difference that anyone will call me out on it. That said… well, you’re not wrong. Six points is… not great.”
“I thought as much,” Jiang nodded. “I think my best bet is going to be trying to break through to the second stage. The Elder who did the welcoming speech said that breaking through earned points, right? Would that be enough?”
Elder Lu hesitated again. “I… think it would do more harm than good to say. While I don’t want to doubt you, as such, well… how confident are you about breaking through before the end of the week?”
Jiang raised an eyebrow. The Elder’s tone was leading, as if he was trying to tell Jiang something without directly saying it. Was he trying to let Jiang know that breaking through wouldn’t earn him enough points? Why not just say it?
“I’d say my odds are good,” he said slowly. “Unless there’s something you haven’t told me about clearing my meridians, I think I should be able to manage it in the next few days.”
“In the next few days?” Elder Lu asked, looking rather taken aback. “You remember what I said about the necessity of clearing out all of the pathways leading to your meridians, correct? I understand the sense of urgency you may be feeling, but I assure you that building a proper foundation will speed up your progress far more than taking the so-called ‘quicker’ route of clearing your meridians as soon as possible.”
Jiang frowned slightly, confused. “I know. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing. Clearing each pathway fully before moving on, just like you said.”
Elder Lu studied him for a long moment, expression unreadable. “You’re certain?”
“Yes?” Jiang said slowly, a flicker of unease beginning to rise. Had he misunderstood something? “You told me clearly enough before—I haven’t skipped any steps.”
“No, that’s… that’s not what I meant,” Elder Lu murmured, more to himself than Jiang. After a thoughtful pause, he leaned forward, fingers tapping rhythmically against the table’s polished surface. “Would you be willing to cultivate here, now, where I can observe directly?”
Jiang shrugged. “Sure.”
Elder Lu hesitated very slightly, eyes narrowing for just a breath, as though he wanted to say more. Instead, he merely inclined his head, waving Jiang forward with one hand. “Thank you. You may begin whenever you feel ready.”
Unbothered, Jiang closed his eyes and settled into a comfortable position, breathing steadily as he drew inward. The familiar feeling of ambient Qi washed over him, the ever-shifting tapestry of the world expanding in his mental sight until it was all he could perceive. He reached out, focusing on the treads of Qi that felt the most suited to him, dragging them back to merge with the Qi already present in his dantian.
Elder Lu watched in silence, his expression betraying nothing—but Jiang didn’t notice. The world had faded away, leaving only the calm, gentle rush of Qi as it filled him.
After what seemed only a few heartbeats, he slowly opened his eyes again, looking curiously at Elder Lu. “Was that enough?”
The Elder was silent for a moment, his gaze sharp with an intensity Jiang hadn’t expected. “It was very informative. Thank you for being willing to show me.”
From the way the man spoke, Jiang was starting to get the impression that letting someone watch while you cultivated was a bigger deal than he thought. After a moment, he dismissed the thought. Even if it was more important than he thought, he didn’t really care.
The Elder fell silent for a few minutes, sipping absently at his tea and looking out at the rest of the Sect. Jiang waited as patiently as he was able.
When Elder Lu finally spoke, his voice was carefully controlled. “Tell me, my boy, how do you perceive the Qi around you?”
Jiang hesitated briefly, trying to find words for something he’d never had to express aloud. It was surprisingly difficult to describe – while the sensations of Qi were unmistakable, they were also quite unlike the information he received from his typical senses. They were similar, but not quite the same – while it could be said that he ‘saw’ Qi, it wasn’t like seeing things with his eyes, more that he saw with… something else. Something deeper.
“I guess it’s like… like a tapestry, woven from countless threads. Each thread feels alive, moving constantly. The threads are different—some warm, some cool, some bright, some shadowed. I just reach out and... pull on the ones that feel right.”
Elder Lu’s gaze sharpened further, eyes glittering with suppressed interest. “The threads that ‘feel right’ to you—those are the shadow-aspected threads?”
“Yes,” Jiang nodded. “They’re easier to grab than the others.”
“I see. That’s… interesting.”
Jiang straightened slightly, wary again. “Is there a problem?”
Elder Lu chuckled softly, though it was tinged with something heavier than amusement. “No, boy. Quite the opposite. Most at your level find it difficult to separate their aligned Qi from the ambient flow. They spend weeks or months grasping blindly, pulling in all of the Qi around them, no matter the alignment. It’s not harmful – or, at least, not in the amounts that they are able to absorb – but it does mean that they need to… purify it, for lack of a better term. Your description alone tells me your sensitivity is unusual. Seeing it firsthand is rather striking.”
Jiang frowned slightly, not quite sure how to respond. He didn’t feel special—only determined. “Will this cause trouble?”
“Not trouble, no,” Elder Lu assured him mildly, though the way his eyes lingered made Jiang uneasy. “But it does explain your swift progress. Cultivation is ultimately a matter of efficiency. The faster you can gather the proper Qi, the quicker you can progress.” Elder Lu sighed softly, leaning back. “This talent is something you should cultivate quietly. Revealing it casually could be dangerous – though, as with many things, it could also be beneficial. Talent, no matter its origin, is valuable and would bolster your reputation.”
“I don’t care much about my reputation,” Jiang responded without hesitation. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t care at all, but it simply wasn’t a priority. Having a positive reputation might make it easier to track down his family in some ways – people were more inclined to share information with those they liked, after all – but in general, it was simply better to focus on improving his abilities over his reputation. It was usually easier, as well.
“Yes, that’s becoming rather clear,” Elder Lu remarked dryly, setting his tea aside. His expression sobered slightly, a hint of something sharper slipping behind the usually amused gaze. “Speaking of your disregard for appearances, my boy, there is another matter we should discuss.”
Jiang felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere, his back unconsciously straightening at the Elder’s tone. “What is it?”
Elder Lu gave him a long look, thoughtful yet measured. “I’ve been informed that you refused a duel earlier today.”
The statement hung in the air, heavy and expectant. Jiang suppressed a sigh. Somehow, he doubted Elder Lu was going to let him off easily this time.
