Volume 2 Chapter 8

  Elder Yotu cocked his head as the procession arrived before his mansion at the base of the mountain. He was in his library. He still hadn’t gotten it perfectly back in order after the visit of those youths two years ago, but there were several reasons for that. For one, the construction of the Perfect Mountain Array, which was an ongoing task which was expected to take another year before completion.

  While he was the ‘greeter’ for the sect, he was also a formidable array expert, and was often consulted on making the broad strokes they received from the grumpy spirit of their mountain into fine details that would allow for the construction. As things stood, they were approximately eighty-percent complete, but that last twenty percent was the finest and most complex part of the array.

  The other reason was that he didn’t want to fix the library back to how it had been before. While the insights that the children had scribbled on his scrolls and books should have outraged him, instead he was finding himself reevaluating established beliefs and doctrine. There was nothing so profound as a paradigm change or a schism in his heart, but he was reluctantly admitting that his worldview could have been a little deeper on certain topics.

  He sighed. “Ah, to be young, and also a genius of cultivation,” he thought.

  Then he considered what to do about his guests. There were four carriages. They were doused in mud, which meant that they had been traveling for some time, but the mud had been washed off at the previous stream and it was only Yotu’s earth senses which said it was still there.

  The carriages indicated a measure of wealth, but there was no insignia to indicate nobility. Still, the merchant class was perhaps more annoying to deal with than the noble. Nobles had little power outside of their direct demesne, and they’d rather eat their own shoe than admit to a grudge with a powerful cultivator like Yotu himself. At least to a grudge that they couldn’t resolve themselves.

  The merchants, however, were annoying. What they lacked in direct power they made up for in connections, and they were willing to use whatever influence they had to settle their grudges financially. They might lose two coins for every coin they cost a cultivator, but depending on the depths of their pockets, that could be a hefty sum.

  And the cultivator might not even realize that the revenge was taking place.

  Once the occupants of the carriages had disembarked, the elder decided that he’d get rid of them quickly rather than go through the usual trial of making them wait to show their commitment. He sent out a sliver of intent to see if any of them responded, and unsurprisingly the boy standing in the middle of the adults jerked in surprise.

  Yotu nodded. Some young son of a merchant family had bonded a spirit. Now they were coming to the Whispering Guides to capitalize on their upward social mobility. The merchants saw it as an investment, as having relations to a powerful cultivator would pay dividends for generations. The child likely just thought that they were looking out for them, and perhaps there was some familial warmth to it, but many times it was simply transactional.

  Even Yotu, should his mortal family be insulted or injured enough, would make the offending party regret their decision should events of a certain magnitude reach his ears. Not because he was particularly fond of them, but because of matters of face and respect.

  Most of the faces that Yotu remembered from his youth had already passed on from this world, but he would continue to defend their descendants for another two or three generations, should he continue to live that long himself. Which he intended to.

  He marked his place in his book and rang the bell for the mortal servants. They answered promptly, and he gave them instructions to prepare a bath and a meal for the child that they would be accepting into the sect that day. He would judge the child’s exact progress and talent in time, but he already knew that the boy had met the standards of the Whispering Guides.

  By sensing Yotu’s intent, the boy had passed the only test that mattered. The boy was sensitive, since Yotu had used such a small amount. That was the true reason that he was the greeter and in charge of administering the tests for admittance into the sect; he had the finest control of intent among his peers.

  Before two years ago, the others had liked to forget that fact and pretend that they were better than him. But while they could blast their intent to match his at maximum volume, his own refined control was a shining example of mastery that they could not match.

  He reflected that he’d never tested the children two years ago that way, but he was confident that their own master would have educated them well on intent control. Regardless, he opened the door and --

  He was standing before the mortals, having crossed the distance in the blink of an eye.

  “Welcome to the whispering guides sect, young master,” Yotu said. He inclined his head, extending greetings. “I admit that I do not recognize your family. But I recognize your cultivation, burgeoning though it is, and invite you inside to complete the formal tests for admittance, if it is your desire to join our sect.”

  “It is,” the boy said before the adults could speak for him. The mortals were all bowing in greeting, but the boy enclosed one fist in his other hand and bowed over it. “This aspiring student humbly seeks guidance from the Whispering Guides Sect. He has only recently bonded a spirit and is not far along the path of cultivation, but pledges his whole heart to the pursuit of excellence.”

  “And these are your family and retainers?” Yotu asked.

  “Retainers only. My family runs a powerful mercantile empire and was too busy to send more than the token adult to supervise me.” The boy blushed. “To be honest, I asked my parents to stay behind in case I failed to test for admittance. I didn’t want them to see my shame if I were turned away. As I said, I am not very advanced.”

  “We will test your progress in detail,” Yotu assured the boy again, “But we accept students of all advancement. We look for potential, not progress. I must inform you, however, that you will not be permitted to keep your retainers with you. They must go back. You will be permitted servants once you become an inner sect member, but the requirements to achieve that will likely take you five years or more even if you are very talented.”

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  “Ah, yeah, I knew that,” the boy said. “But they brought mortal goods to trade to the sect for, um, contribution points? That’s a thing that I can do, isn’t it?”

  “It is indeed.” Yotu pulled out a slip of paper, empowered it, and threw it to the ground. The stone it landed upon began to float.

  “This stone will guide your followers to the elders who will be responsible for trading for your goods,” Yotu explained. “In the meantime, why don’t you step inside with me, and we shall begin your induction?”

  “Yes! Excellent, thank you Elder …”

  “I am Elder Yotu.”

  “This earnest disciple is Yin Wei,” the boy said. He bowed again. “And he eagerly looks forward to being a disciple of this most honorable and reputable sect.”

  ~~~~~~

  Later, after the boy had bathed the dust of the road off of himself and eaten a small meal, both to sate his hunger and settle guest rights, the testing began. The boy promptly and proudly displayed the same technique that he had shown his parents, as well as the adults of the merchant clan of which he was part, manipulating the water in the air for a moment then freezing it.

  Yotu was suitably impressed, but then had him place his hands on the measuring stone. The figures for two Dan appeared, and he sighed.

  “You are in the second stage of the initiate’s realm,” he declared. “That means that your journey truly has just started. On the one hand, it is fortunate that you have come to us so soon, as it will make your journey much easier. On the other hand, you are past the age where progressing through the beginning stages is easiest. You are not nearly so old for it to be detrimental, but your peers are all several stages beyond you. You will have to work hard to catch up to them.”

  “I understand. I am not afraid of hard work,” the boy said eagerly.

  A few moments later, a runner came from the contribution shop with a slip of paper. The mortal was out of breath, and Yotu encouraged him to have a seat and recover a moment. He examined the handwritten note, then nodded.

  “Your family has exchanged goods worth sixty contribution points,” he declared. “That is the maximum that we allow young aspirants such as yourself to trade for mortal goods. If you’d had any spiritual goods, we would have been able to trade more than that. There was a young man some years ago who had a number of lesser spiritual stones in his possession, and he was able to trade them for a hefty sum.”

  “Ah,” Yin said. “The truth is that I had a spiritual stone once but it was—I lost it,” the boy said.

  “You lost the spiritual stone?” Yotu said. “Well, it’s not such a big deal. Lesser spiritual stones, such as the one that your spirit likely inhabited before you bonded it, are only worth twenty points. Together with the mortal goods you would have had eighty, but I suggest that you only spend fifteen when I take you to the shop later. Ten for a prayer mat, and five for a training weapon of your choice. Do you have any preferences for a training weapon?”

  “A sword is best, right?” The boy asked naively.

  The elder smiled. “On second thought, let’s have you evaluated by a weapons master before you choose. It will cost an additional five contribution points for the time, but I assure you that it is a wise investment in your future to select a weapon suited to your body and the way you move.”

  “I bow to your wisdom, Elder,” Yin said.

  “Food, clothing, and lodging is free for outer sect members, but the room you will be living in will be shared with other boys about your age. I’m uncertain of the situation in the dormitories at the moment so I don’t know who or how many, but that will be sorted out shortly. Will that be a problem?”

  “No, elder, it won’t,” the boy agreed.

  “Excellent. What else? I advise you save those forty contribution points for now, since they’re not very easy to earn the hard way. You don’t get an allowance, you understand. You have to actually perform deeds to earn them. Advancing to the next stage of cultivation is worth an increasing amount for every step. Reaching the fourth stage of the initiate’s realm will be worth twenty points, with the fifth stage being worth twenty five, etc. You will find that the resources we provide are very tempting, however, and many young cultivators squander their contribution points on short cuts like pills and technique manuals. If you use your contribution points for anything, I would advise you spend it on tutelage from an elder instead.”

  “Yes! I understand,” the boy agreed. “How much does Elder Yotu charge for his tutelage?”

  Yotu grinned, considering the question. He was a little honored to be asked, if he was being honest. He was literally the most approachable elder in the sect, being the greeter and all. But everyone always assumed that he had nothing to teach.

  “I like you, Yin. My listed price, which you will see when you visit the contribution store, is ten contribution points per hour. For you, I will charge one point per hour of tutelage. That excludes the matters of your introduction to the sect, of course. Everything so far has just been basic introduction.”

  “Thank you,” Yin said, bowing to the elder. “I pledge that I will visit again to accept your tutelage soon.”

  “You should cultivate a relationship with any elder who has their prices listed in the contribution shop. Especially the ones who have high prices for their mentorship. If their name is on that list, that means that they’re respected enough to have earned their place on that list. Having a high price associated with their time means that their time is valuable, but if you can achieve a formal discipleship with any of them, then they become responsible for your growth.”

  “Do you have any disciples at the moment, Elder Yotu?” the boy asked.

  “I do not. I was not looking for one, if I’m being honest. Neither am I turning them away,” the elder admitted. “But we’re not at that stage yet. Ask in a month and we will see if I am willing to take you under my wing.”

  “Yes! Thank you, Elder Yotu. Have you any more advice for me?” the boy inquired.

  “Don’t get caught peaking in the women’s bath,” the elder said. “Even the elders aren’t immune to the punishment for that!”

  The boy laughed, and they spoke for a while longer before Yotu instructed one of the mortal servants to see the boy to the dormitory further up the mountain.

  If the boy asked again in a month, Yotu reflected, then he’d probably have gained his first disciple in twenty years.

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