Luxire Worse
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Dao of Fuck Off : Chapter 16 - Barren Brazeness
🕑 Added 2024-11-02 15:00:11 +0000 UTCIf Province Lord Lung Hao was honest with himself, he loved his job. He knew that his peers considered the Scale-Scrape barrens a punitive position, but that stopped bothering him only a few short months into his post.
Yes, there were no resources left after the great battle with the dread Salt-Scale Serpent had formed it. But that just meant that there were fewer matters to look after. Yes, rogue cultivators hid in the pitiably sheltered wilds, but as long as a loyal cultivator was incentivized to stay in each city, that just kept the beast populations down.
The position didn’t afford him much prestige, but outside of formal appearances before his superiors, that wasn’t a problem. His people knew their jobs and did them, he knew his job and did it, and the ‘embarrassment of the empire’ continued functioning just as well as any other province.
In fact, the only part of his job that he truly disliked was treating with cultivators. And even that was made immensely more tolerable by the nature of his territory. So few of the power-seekers found themselves desperate enough for Imperial Credits for additional resources that the low ki of the land ensured that he only ever had the bare minimum in residence at any one time, and keeping them civilized was usually a simple matter of apologizing for matters beyond his control and flattering them for their generosity in taking on the security position.
It still rattled his nerves any time he had to face one of the monsters though. The way that they subdued their emotions was unnerving at the best of times, and a lethal trap at others. One could never tell what arbitrary matters would anger a cultivator, and they were always eager to threaten anyone they were not, themselves, terrified of. If you were lucky, they only threatened or battered you for serving them the wrong tea. If you weren’t...
There was a reason government positions weren’t hereditary.
So when Lung received a letter stating that a foreign cultivator was making his way to the heart of his territory, and that the cultivator expected there to be trouble following him, the province lord allowed himself to despair.
When a second letter arrived, informing him that not one, but two cultivator families had representatives inbound to ‘meet with’ the foreigner, he allowed himself to panic and temporarily relocate to the requisitions office so that he could meet with the cultivators’ customs retainers and glean what he could to try to preserve his land.
The Hotui family patriarch and his son arrived first, and province lord Lung allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief as their retainer explained that they were here to cut off the violence and poach the foreigner back to their territory.
The Zheng family patriarch, meanwhile, required careful placation that as soon as this ‘Guang’s paperwork was filed, Lung would personally send a servant to inform him of where the foreigner would be going so that their grievance could be settled.
Another week passed, and Lung started to earnestly suspect -even hope- that the foreigner had simply gone somewhere else, when the requisitions officer entered his office looking pale.
“He’s here.”
“Good, show him in.” Getting to speak to the foreigner’s retainer would hopefully allow everything to be settled. The fact that the two family’s retainers had been ordered to stay with him until this discussion to get their politicking in before the paperwork started was an irritation, but retainers had their posturing to do on behalf of their employers,and that was just part of their unenviable duties.
Then a man in simple robes walked in, and Lung Hao’s hope broke.
He looked young, maybe 25. But Lung knew better than to believe the skin when it was that clear. His hair was long and brown, free of band or braid and tucked behind his ears. A statement of surety in his field, as his kind were in constant strife.
He turned to the attendant and thanked the man with a smile before turning and looking at Lung. His face was open and expressive, the most dangerous kind of face for a cultivator to wear, because it lured people into thinking of them as people instead of demigods.
“Took you long enough!” the Zheng’s retainer sneered, causing the man’s face to light up in joy. “Is your master too poor to afford a horse?”
“Not at all!” the man smiled. “There were just a few stops along the way to see how the smaller villages fared!”
Lung despaired as he kept his composure intact. The retainers didn’t know, and he had no way of telling them without angering the foreigner.
“You mean trying to prolong his own life!” the dead man laughed. “You can tell your master that Zheng Lao has come to end his supposedly eternal life!”
“Only Zheng Lao?” the man sounded disappointed. “Was Zheng Nima left behind to tend to the young master’s neck?”
The Zheng retainer, having been expecting posturing, was flummoxed by the cultivator’s response long enough that the man continued. “It can’t be that Zheng Nima simply is not moved by harm to his nephew, can it?”
The Hotui retainer doubled over laughing at the slap to his counterpart’s Face, still not realizing that they were not speaking to a foreign retainer.
“Oh? I assumed your master was here on similar matters?” the foreigner invited the remaining man to speak.
“Quite the contrary! Master Hotui Karra heard a rumor that your master is seeking pupils, and has graciously offered protection from the Zheng if he would be willing to take young master Hotui Mata as a disciple.”
The foreigner’s face twisted in surprise. “How unexpected! It would be a disgrace to bother the Hotui with the Zheng’s offence, but I can assure you that once the first round of their anger is exhausted, the discussion of tutelage can proceed with optimism.”
“You think too highly of your master if you expect to be employed at the end of the day.” the Zheng retainer snarled.
The foreigner laughed. “Truly? Your Silver Core master has a technique more intimidating than the Ravenous Demon Blood Dragon, then?”
Lung Hao felt his skin go cold as he realized where he’d heard of the man in front of him.
The god of chaos and destruction that descended upon the western continent and unbalanced the stability that held the great western sects back from predating on their servant mortals.
Was casually insulting a well-reputed Cultivator family like it was simple mortal banter.
If he survived this meeting, the Empress needed to be warned.
“Tell you what. You go ahead and tell Zheng Lao that his quarry will meet him outside the north gate, and I’ll get the paperwork done as swiftly as feasible. If Hotui Karra wishes to watch the beginning of the fight, he’s welcome to join. How does that sound?”
“That sounds like a fine arrangement, provided your master shows up.” the Hotui man kept digging their graves with a smile.
“We’re here, aren’t we?” the god laughed. “I’ve grown familiar with the paperwork here, so it won’t be but an hour.”
“I look forward to your despair when you’re left in this desolate land without an employer.” the Zheng man snarled as they both left the room.
Leaving Lung alone with the smiling god.
“Nice fellows.” the god remarked as he casually took the seat without waiting for Lung to stand and bow. “Terribly sorry about scaring you like that, but I promise I’ll keep the damage outside your towns, Province Lord.”
“A kindness I am most thankful for.” Lung managed to reply without breaking down from the stress.
“It is only civil. From what I’ve heard in the small towns and from the spirits, you’ve done an outstanding job managing the land.”
Lung blinked.
“No, truly. There’s almost nothing you could have done about the horrendous amount of Salt qi upsetting the natural balance of the land, especially not with how the sun scorches the land and reinforces it. That your predecessors managed to set things up so mortals can live here at all is astounding, and your management in particular is laying a wonderful foundation of stability for further work.”
“You are far too kind, honored immortal. My management has been nothing so praiseworthy.”
“Your people and land tell me otherwise.” the god smiled like a father and Lung had to stop himself from taking the praise to his head. “I had intended to study the land and address the imbalances that the spirits reported for the next several years. And after hearing their praise of your skill in the position, I’d be honored to work with you to revitalize the land such that it remains easy to manage.”
The chill in Lung’s spine twisted. The god had meant to simply upend the land, but was offering Face and discussions on how he would go about it.
“Far be it from my lowly position to claim expertise on the land, but if you desire my input, I would be honored by your consideration.”
“Wonderful!” the god clapped once and Lung couldn’t stop himself from flinching as a pile of paperwork appeared. “Have you a map of the province handy? I can get started on sorting out what information I’ll need for the soil while you confirm that I filled everything out correctly.”
Lung tried not to lurch to retrieve the map he carried to discuss security deployments, and the god before him chose not to comment on his failure as he handed over the scroll. He then accepted the god’s paperwork and steeled himself to not get caught in lamenting whatever mistakes were present.
The god unfurled the map and studied it, murmuring under his breath like he was holding half a conversation. Lung swallowed the lump in his throat and started going through the pile of superfluous paperwork.
A third of the way through the pile, he realized that there were no errors. The crucial details were present, as though the god had nothing to hide. The decoy details were all in order. The bloat paperwork was all filled out, and in greater detail than most retainers bothered with.
Glancing up at the man staring at the map like his territory was a tantalizing piece of cake, Lung dismissed the obvious answer. There was no way this man had hired someone to do it for him just to present it himself. His demeanor was too deliberate, too planned.
The god called Guang had filled out his own paperwork for some reason. To convey something.
Lung’s spine stiffened as he realized what the god was saying. ‘I know your methods. They are nothing before me.’
The Province Lord forced himself to continue reading and checking the paperwork If the detail stopped part way, that would say something important, even if he couldn’t understand it himself.
Twenty minutes later, he was through the last piece of paperwork and his stomach sought the earth’s embrace. Every line. Every entry. Every bit of the paperwork that offered Imperial workers a buffer of safety from cultivators was filled out.
The message was clear. ‘You have no defenses before me.’
Lung looked up at the destruction god across from him. Guang was smiling patiently, inviting him to take his time and understand the depth of the threat.
“Everything looks to be in perfect order, honored immortal.” Lung stated with a nod of understanding. The god had a self-reported fondness for going understated, but clearly wished to be recognized for his destructive capacity.
“Excellent! I hoped your protocols were close enough to those in Nu Yan that I could guess the differences. Now, I’ve got the beginnings of a plan to start rebalancing the northern portion of your province.” He slid the map across the table and pointed. “I asked the land about natural ki flows that it used to have, and the major channels for the Water phases ran through here, here, and here. The length of the Salt qi’s stagnation of the phase cycle means that the new ones will probably be significantly different, but I’m going to start by hitting these three areas with an abundance of Wood qi to forcibly crack the Salt encrustment and break up the overdeveloped earth reserves. After that’s had a couple days to settle, one of the best ways to keep the sun’s heat from rebuilding the blockage is to plant foliage. I’ve got a few varieties of tree that can endure the ambient salt levels for long term stabilization, and wheatgrasses that can stabilize things in the immediate.
“The difficulty I’m seeing the process having is that the Salt qi has been creating and strengthening several Metal-phase ki types, which has been what kills off your previous efforts at establishing Wood-phase bulwarks. I don’t have all of the solution for that planned out, but if you can get a cartographer who can work with me to get water channels planned, I can identify the major buildup types and find a way to get them hardened back up to move the water.”
Lung nodded along as though he understood more than the fact that the god had a plan. “I should be able to arrange for a cartographer for you. Would you like to negotiate with them directly, or shall I handle that?”
“I’ll let them decide. I do understand the hesitation to speak with cultivators of any type beyond unavoidable necessity.” the god smiled wryly. “Hell, I don’t like interacting with other ones myself.”
Lung only barely caught himself before nodding in commiseration. Whether he agreed with the sentiment or not, admitting that he hated dealing with cultivators was asking for his home village to be destroyed.
“Your graciousness will surely be appreciated. What tasks will you need of the cartographer?”
“I’m going to want a fresh map of the barrens, and I’ve long respected the art and wish to learn a bit of the skills that go into it.”
Lung blinked and only let his brow furrow a little. The god had stated in his paperwork that he was fond of learning new skills, but Lung had assumed he meant combat skills. “Very well. I should be able to arrange a cartographer for you by morning, at the latest.”
“Oh, there’s no need to rush it that badly. I expect Zheng Lao will take longer than that to land a hit, and I’ll be taking my time coming back.”
“Back?” Lung asked after a moment.
“Yes. now that we’re done with the paperwork, I’ll meet him at the gate and lead him and his wrath away from your city.” the god smiled enthusiastically with a meaning-laden look at the map between them that Lung wholly failed to decipher. “You’re welcome to come watch the start of the fight if you’d like.”
Against his sense of self preservation, Lung nodded. “I believe I shall accept that opportunity.”
The Hotui would likely need placation if the god was going to simply leave them at the gate, after all.
They stood together and, with a silent signal to the servant who’d been on standby to inform Zheng Lao that the paperwork was finished, left the office to make their way to the north gate.
As they walked, Lung took note that unlike other cultivators, the god did not carry himself with an imperious stature. Instead, to watch him stroll, Lung would have taken him as a simple wanderer taking in the small city with an approving smile.
A lot of the god’s mannerisms throughout the meeting also gave the impression that he was little more than a wandering expert, in fact.
And when they reached the gate, they were met by Hotui Karra and Zheng Lao glaring murderously at each other and the god’s face lit up in glee.
“Pardon me, good taoists!” he spoke and drew both sets of eyes to himself. “I sent a message to one of our number that I’d meet him outside this gate around now, but I’m not sensing anyone on the other side. Would either of you happen to know what could have held the Zheng patriarch up?”
Knowing that he was about to die, Lung offered a prayer of gratitude for being able to see the face of a mighty cultivator hanging open in shock.
“I only ask because I know that a house as dignified as the Zheng would never tolerate a servant misrepresenting a message badly enough that he’d still be inside the walls if he weren’t held up, and the idea that Zheng Lao, of all men, would be pulled into bickering like an ill-trained son is just laughable.”
“You are the false god Guang, then?” Zheng Lao snarled, turning on the flippant man with enough killing intent that Lung started gasping for air.
“I’m told some offer me prayers under that title, yes!” Guang smiled cheekily. “Are you an aspiring devotee, by chance?”
And then Guang was gone. A blink later, Zheng’s intent diffused as he looked around, “Insolent coward!” he shouted upon spotting Guang on the other side of the gate. Charging after the god, he added “You will die today!”
Lung’s eyes failed to follow the exchange, but he heard Guang’s voice clearly enough. “Ah! Zheng Lao! I was just looking for you! There was this terribly boorish man inside who looked a bit like you, but with none of the poise you hold yourself with. If you happen to see him, do let him know that I accept worshippers of any kind, would you? He seemed really eager to prostrate himself at my feet.”
“Interesting.” the now much more composed Hotui Karra muttered as they watched the blurs of motion. “He uses his enemy’s rage to create holes where there otherwise wouldn’t be any, then uses the Flowing Dragon Realm to slip through those holes.”
A moment later, he raised an eyebrow. “That’s not the Flowing Dragon Realm. Zheng would have had him there if it was. Say, Province lord. Did Guang sound confident in his victory?”
“To my mere mortal senses, yes, he did.” Lung answered as Guang’s speech continued hurling offenses at Zheng. “He seemed to think that it would take a technique like the Ravenous Demon Blood Dragon to give him even a little difficulty.”
“Hmm. Did he say what treasure he believes will allow him to strike a killing blow?”
Vines erupted from the ground as Zheng lost patience with his sword failing to strike the god, and Guang reappeared on the far side of their reach, saying something about compensation that made Hotui choke on a laugh.
“No. He only reported his staff and blade aside from a selection of talismans. Each of which he stated held power from Cleansed Stone to Cleansed Bronze.”
“Hm. Interesting.” The Grasping Vine Field technique erupted for a third time, again, seemingly unable to catch the god. “I do believe he intends to drive Zheng to exhaustion. An interesting approach.”
Hotui’s comment abruptly made Guang’s surety that the fight would last longer than a day make more sense. The thin ki through the area made it difficult for cultivators to sustain their techniques, and as Guang was a god of destruction, he’d probably be using the destroyed landscape as fuel instead of relying on the ki.
“It seems my son and I will be imposing on your hospitality for several more days.”
“You honor my humble city with your presence, great immortal. Please, enjoy our hospitality as long as it pleases you.” Lung bowed, as much to placate the inconvenienced cultivator as to hide his despair.
After all, Guang had stated an intent to stay however long it took to fix the entirety of the 1200 year old barrens.
---
One of my favorite parts of not buying into Face culture is the simple ability to choose my own win conditions.
A normal cultivator, faced with an idiot like Zheng, would have only two options. Submit, then rationalize their admission of weakness as far as they could, or fight to the death.
Any other course of action would deal more damage to their self-image than submitting, because Face culture only allowed reasons as profound as “I would die otherwise” to be justified as far as tolerating someone not giving proper Face. The foundations of the culture just refused to budge on concepts like forgiveness or tolerance.
I, having first been raised in a culture that took completely different defects of reasoning to excess, didn’t have that problem. Zheng didn’t need to kowtow to me for me to have full satisfaction for his idiocy. Making him look like a buffoon by running most of the way back to healthy land over four days was plenty of satisfaction for me, on top of the way his energy reserves started flagging badly enough that getting a bit of distance and hiding from him caused him to swear to make a pill of my liver and storm off to recuperate.
Leaving me to start walking back along our trail with a gardening circulation to make sure his techniques’ remnant Wood qi got nestled into the soil properly along with wheatgrass seeds. It was tedious work, but peaceful.
And it gave me plenty of time to prepare material to enrage my half-immortal ground till next time he came to demand my head for his mandatory win condition. Knowing that his Face having no place in my Eye would cripple his growth, I knew it’d only be a matter of months before he’d recuperated and came charging back at me.
As I reached the first of the ancient Water ki flows, I was treated to a wonderful interplay of energies.
My gardening circulation had developed from the simple trick of pulling ki from the land, through the plants, and into myself to a far more intricate matter. Now, with the ‘edge mask’ trick I’d pioneered at the forge, I let my qi flow past my soul and into the plants and soil around me, matching itself to the ki therein, and stimulate their energy with the strength of my own circulations.
Too much force, and I’d rip the ki right out. Too little, and the dissonance would try to create a deviation. But letting my qi match what the soil and plants could handle allowed them to become very temporarily become an extension of me, and in that short span, my natural health corrections applied.
I’d tried the process on the land during my first trip south, only to discover that the imbalances were so severe that I could barely sustain it for half a mile and the surrounding imbalance reasserted itself inside of a day.
Now, armed with Zheng’s leftover qi and a proper plan of action with the spirits of the seeds and soil, the only phase I was leaking badly was Water, which I could replenish far more easily than the medley of Water and Wood that it demanded otherwise. Especially as the ki of the heavier metals in the soil cycled through and stimulated my natural generation of Water.
It wouldn’t be enough, by itself, to stop the metal from attacking the grass, but it’d slow it down a little while helping me keep going.
Then, as I reached the old water flow, Zheng’s wood qi digging into the ancient Salt qi allowed the long-stagnant water ki to slowly weep forth from its reserve, to the audible cheering of the spirits.
The water ki was far too weak to do much, and the metal ki, being from heavy metals, was far more tuned to harming the plants than moving the water. But as I continued to take in the worst of the Metal phase and alloy it with my will, the water ki was finally granted a bit of motion.
And as almost anyone who works with existential energies will attest, motion is how energies grow healthy.
I made better time than I expected, walking through the damaged land in only three days to see the walls of Stony Shade city a mere week after leaving them. The guards gawked as I approached and cycled down my circulation, so I smiled and croaked with a dry throat. “Hello again! Is there a runner or two available?”
The runners were called for immediately and after getting the name of a good teahouse, I paid one to inform Lung and the requisition office that I was back, and the other to similarly inform the Hotui, if they were still in town.
Then I made my way to the teahouse with a satisfied smile and requested that the private room’s lovely attendant keep an eye on the pot so I could focus on hydrating myself. Still having a material body prevented me from stepping out of mortal perception, but it allowed me to address energetic matters through physical processes, and I was more than happy to exploit that by drinking excessive amounts of tea to replenish my dwindled Water qi.
Two full pots in, Hotui Karra was led in sporting a complicated grin, followed by a man I took to be his son. “Province lord Lung told me that you were confident. But I did not expect you to actually be victorious!”
“I take victory in odd forms, compared to most. Of course I was confident in outlasting Zheng’s reserves in this barren land.” I laughed easily. “Please! Sit! The tea here is a fine strain for discussion.”
“Only outlasting?” he asked as they both took the invitation. “That old fool survived?”
“Naturally. He was unable to offend me enough to demand I kill him. And it’s not like his complaint is wholly invalid. I did stab his son in the neck, after all.”
Karra laughed and his son stared at me. Then the junior spoke up with all manner of young stress. “You stabbed Zheng Hurin in the neck? What did he do to offend you?”
“Oh, he didn’t manage to offend me either. He just demanded a satisfaction fight over his delusions around value. So I stabbed him in the neck after tripping him on his own vines. He got lucky and survived after sacrificing his pride.”
“But you did not move to slay Zheng Lao for the same offence?”
“No. I’ve found a better use for the Zheng patriarch and his brother. They can help me with my evasion exercises for a while. Zheng Hurin wouldn’t have made me break a sweat even if I restrained myself.”
The Hotui patriarch’s laughter redoubled as his son stared at my smirk. “Well, Guang! You certainly live up to the irreverence I’d heard of!” he finally spoke with a smile. “As your servant told you, I’m looking for a mentor for my boy, here. It’s my shame that I’ve been unable to teach him more, but he simply lacks the constitution for the way that I was trained, and I’m a master of but one method. He’s already begun studies of your fourty pages, and they have helped him greatly.”
“Oh? My ramblings made it here before me?” I smiled, then grinned at the vindicated glare the younger man shot his father.
“Indeed! I used to have correspondence with the Icy Rain sect, before their obligation to the SIlver Spire brought them to ruin.”
“I’m glad to hear it! So, young master. You’ve seen through some of the frustrations then?”
“It took me longer than I’m proud of, but yes. Your passages about the outer emotion interplay finally started making sense as I became angered with them, and I’ve since discerned your intent regarding the feeding of the dantians.”
“Impressive! It took the Fang elders over twenty years to make that headway.” I complimented. “I’d wager talent like yours doesn’t actually need full tutelage once you grasp the foundations fully.”
“You flatter me, immortal.” he shook his head. “Without guidance, I’ve been reduced to slamming my head against trees hoping to knock sense into myself.”
“A most honorable tradition in my eye.” I grinned. “I wouldn’t be half the man I am without doing much the same when I’m stumped. So, what manner of identity would you like to cultivate?”
“Not ‘style’?” he furrowed his brow, and his father resisted doing the same.
“Style derives from identity, and identity is informed by style. Taking the larger into mind clears many early stumbling blocks.”
Both men stopped and turned their attention inward for a while, and I gently consumed another cup of tea while they pondered.
“Similarly, consider first who you wish to be, as you are the one who will have to live with you.” I added as I poured another cup.
The elder man caught the major implication faster and bristled on reflex. He did a commendable job keeping it under control, however, and turned his attention inward again for a long moment.
“I’ve another shame to my work, it seems.” he finally admitted. “Thank you for the gentleness of the rebuke, immortal.”
I nodded kindly. There was little to be said to a father who could admit such a failing.
The younger, somewhat shocked that his father took it as a rebuke, caught up to the realization and returned to his own thoughts with the clarity that I was telling him to throw away his father’s hopes in his consideration.
“I do not know what manner of man I wish to be.” he finally admitted, shaking his head. “I do wish to make my family proud, and to drive my enemies into the ground with ruthless force. But beyond that, I do not know.”
“I can work with that much.” I smiled. “And as you review the ramblings, I suspect you will be able to as well. Take however long you need to decide if you wish to apprentice under me. I shall be in residence for quite a while. If you would ever like to come share tea, I would be glad for the company.”
They stood and bowed deeply before leaving with partings of gratitude, and I let myself relax into the enjoyment of the tea.
The Shan Taiyan empire might not drive its cultivators to the heights of combat prowess I was accustomed to, but it did allow them slightly more leeway in matters of emotional growth through all the coddling.
Something I was sure contributed to the impressive survival rate of the mortals they interacted with. If I was ever summoned before the empress, I’d have to compliment her social engineering talents.
Comments
Luxire Worse
Thank you. That comment sent me into full gremlin cackling with what I've started to see weaving.
Luxire Worse
Yeah, East Asian-style collectivist culture legitimately comes at topics like that from a position almost opposite of Western European-style cultures. And yeah, spending more than a decade being told 'this is how it works', only for it to just not work does wonders for breaking away from the 'Parents are Right by Right of parenthood' clauses in said culture.
PatronTurtle
It's so strange to me that they take that line as a rebuke. The kid noticing too probably means he's already broken enough away from the old ways to be a good apprentice
Xodarap4
You mad lad I wasn't expecting that throwaway line about the Zheng Sons Vine technique last chapter to be relevant for future chapters. Going to have to reread again to see what else I missed
