Of Hunters and Immortals

Jiang sipped at his tea and tried to keep his expression even. It was bitter – not unpleasantly so, maybe, but still bitter enough that he had to suppress a grimace with every sip.

He held the cup properly – two hands, steady grip, no slouching – and made a decent show of being patient while Elder Lu refilled his cup without asking.

They sat beneath the overhang just outside Elder Lu's compound, the wooden deck swept clean, a low brazier set between them giving off just enough heat to take the edge off the morning chill. Somewhere further down the hillside, a bell chimed once, followed by the faint echo of a voice shouting something indistinct. Jiang didn't turn his head to check.

"I've always preferred the northern varieties," Elder Lu said conversationally, swirling his tea in its cup with one hand while the other tucked his sleeve neatly at the wrist. "They've a sharper edge to them. Grows better in the high mountain valleys. Has a way of cutting through the fog in your head."

Jiang made a noncommittal noise. The fog in his head, as far as he could tell, came from sleep deprivation, mild head trauma, and stress. None of which tea seemed to help.

The Elder didn't seem at all dissuaded by the lack of response, merely taking another sip of his tea – which Jiang had learned was a sign to follow suit. He did, mouth tightening slightly at the taste. It wasn't even hot anymore.

Lu exhaled as he set the cup down again. "The weather's turned early this year. You'll notice it more in the mornings, especially out near the eastern wall. Cold air collects there. No good for long meditations."

Jiang had never put much stock in the concept of Heavenly punishment, no matter how much cultivators went on about it, but if it did exist, he had to imagine it looked something like this.

Talking about the weather? Why? What was the bloody point when you could just look outside and see it for yourself?

He knew it wasn't a real topic – just one of those conversational feints cultivators used to test to see how you responded, what you knew, what you didn't. Li Xuan had explained – in between smacking him over the head with the stupid wooden sword – that cultivators liked to make things more complicated than they needed to be. It was the first thing the other disciple had said that Jiang could wholeheartedly agree with.

He'd sort of known that already, but hadn't realised the extent of it. Apparently, just saying what you meant was uncouth – too blunt and obvious. It represented a lack of patience, of intelligence, of decorum. Instead, cultivators loved subtext. Elder Lu probably wasn't actually talking about the weather, but subtly referencing some complicated political thing that Jiang had no knowledge or interest in.

He nodded once, just enough to show he was listening.

Lu poured again, methodical. "I've been told one of the inner disciples is preparing a calligraphy exhibition. Ink-on-silk, I believe. Very traditional. There's talk of using one of the side halls for display."

Jiang stared into his cup, reminding himself that he needed to be a cultivator to save his family. "Sounds nice."

"Mm." The Elder paused just long enough to register the evasion. "It's been a few years since anyone took the time to organise one. The old methods are falling out of fashion."

"Guess I wouldn't know."

On the other hand, his family would probably be fine without him, right?

Elder Lu finally leaned back with a smile. "Very well then, I can see that your patience is reaching its end. I suppose congratulations are in order – you lasted much longer that time than last."

"I figure it's like getting sick enough times – you either die or get immune," Jiang snarked back, finally able to put his cup of tea down.

Elder Lu laughed. "Well, I'll try not to be offended that you equate my company to an illness," he said dryly. "Next time, we'll work on some proper responses. Sitting there looking like you're being tortured is an improvement – as depressing as it is – but simply staying silent is often just as, if not more, offensive than saying the wrong thing. If nothing else, it looks more deliberate."

Jiang sighed, already resigning himself to it. "Can't wait."

The Elder hummed in amusement but mercifully didn't press the subject. "Speaking of being offensive, how's your training with Li Xuan coming along?"

Jiang didn't answer immediately. He wasn't sure if he wanted to call it 'training' or 'violence with footnotes,' but either way, he doubted Lu would accept that as a proper answer.

"He hasn't killed me yet," Jiang said eventually. "So I guess it's going well."

Elder Lu arched a brow. "High praise."

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Jiang shrugged. "He's thorough."

That was one word for it. Another would have been relentless. Li Xuan didn't believe in lectures or guided instruction – he believed in movement and rhythm and being forced to repeat a sequence a hundred times until your limbs knew it better than your brain did. Every morning that wasn't already occupied with a mandatory lesson or task, Jiang got to spend an hour or two in the eastern training yard being told he was doing everything wrong. Sometimes with words. More often with a stick.

"He's not what I expected," Jiang admitted. "After you warned me, I figured he'd be some kind of sadist. And he kind of is," he added after a moment, "but at least he's consistent about it."

Elder Lu chuckled. "That's about as close to a compliment as he's likely to get."

Jiang nodded begrudgingly. "He's not… friendly. But he doesn't waste time. Doesn't pretend things are easier than they are. Doesn't sugarcoat anything. It's all 'your grip is weak,' or 'you're too slow,' or 'if you try to block like that, you're going to lose a hand.' Not exactly inspiring, but at least I know where I stand."

Lu made a slight noise of agreement, leaning forward again to top off their cups.

"He still looks like an angry child, though."

Elder Lu coughed something that might have been a laugh. "Yes, well, moving right along…" he recovered quickly, "Other than that, how are you settling into life in the Sect?"

Jiang shrugged. "Eh. The constant duels are annoying, especially because I don't know what I did to piss so many people off. The morning lessons are usually boring, but the assigned tasks are fine – though they've stopped assigning me to the hunts, which sucks. I'd rather be doing that than running messages or whatever."

Elder Lu blinked. "Constant duels?" he asked curiously. "I was under the impression that those had stopped after the exams?"

"They had. Then they started again – now it's even worse than before. They're starting to wait for me after breakfast and the lessons, trying to catch me out."

The Elder frowned. "That sounds a little like someone is trying to suppress you, but I don't see why—"

He cut himself off.

"Ah. Never mind, I think I do know who's doing this after all."

Jiang raised an eyebrow. "And that is…"

Elder Lu hesitated for a moment. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but I suppose if he's going to be acting like this anyway…" he trailed off thoughtfully. "Very well. I suspect that the culprit behind this is Elder Yan. He was… unsatisfied with your acceptance into the Sect, not to mention your behaviour when you met back in Wúyè."

He pinned Jiang with a stern look. "Which I hope you will not be attempting to repeat."

"Don't worry," Jiang said, raising his hands defensively. "I know better than to try lying to an Elder now."

Elder Lu raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Jiang coughed awkwardly and looked away.

"Hmmm. We'll be discussing whatever that means later," the Elder said pointedly, "Regardless, I believe the most likely situation is that Elder Yan has instructed his personal disciples to make your life… difficult. It's not completely unheard of for some of the… less secure cultivators to try sabotaging the efforts of those that they feel are more talented than themselves. The Elders make sure to stop it wherever possible, but it's often difficult to definitively tell the difference between suppression and simply trading pointers or a minor grudge."

He paused to take a sip from his tea again. "Either way, I'll look into it. Elder Yan has been acting… quite recklessly lately, so I may be able to convince the other Elders to step in and calm things down."

Jiang saluted him with his cup. "My bruises thank you."

"Wonderful," Elder Lu said, dry as the courtyard dust. "Moving along, then, how fares your cultivation? You should probably start to look into finding some cultivation resources to aid in your progress – I don't think the contribution store has any shadow-aspected treasures right now, but a more generic elixir should still help quite a bit."

Jiang shrugged. "Probably can't afford them anyway – most of my points are going to healing after all the duels at the moment."

Elder Lu looked up sharply. "You're usually injured significantly enough to require medical attention?" he asked intently.

"Well, I don't know about requiring medical attention," Jiang hedged, a little surprised by the intensity of his response. "But unless I want to be a bruised and battered mess constantly, I usually duck by the halls of healing every other day or so." He winced and rolled a shoulder performatively. "Especially after a 'lesson' with Li Xuan," he grumbled.

Elder Lu frowned, though he seemed more relaxed. "That's… not as bad as I was fearing. Though to be honest, I'm surprised you can afford to visit that often," he admitted. "Though it's been some time since I required healing myself, I was under the impression that the disciples in the halls of healing usually charged a dozen contribution points, even for minor injuries."

Jiang cocked his head. "I guess I wouldn't know, but Yiaolin only ever takes four or five."

Elder Lu blinked. "…Elder Yiaolin heals you personally?" he asked, emphasising the 'Elder'.

"Yes?"

Elder Lu sat back, almost seeming stunned. "Truly, you have the favour of the Heavens," he whispered.

"Why is that surprising? She is in charge of the halls of healing, right? Why wouldn't she heal people?"

Lu waved a hand, seeming to regain some of his equilibrium. "Oh, certainly – she is the best healer in the Sect, naturally – but usually, she only deigns to help out on severe cases. Life or death cases, I mean." The Elder pinned him with a curious look. "How in the world did you, of all people, manage to get her personal attention? Now that I think about it, she spoke out in your favour during the exams as well."

"What do you mean, me 'of all people'? I'm a very likeable person!"

Elder Lu rolled his eyes. "Ah yes, my mistake – that must be why so many of them are lining up to fight you."

Jiang drained the last of his tea, setting the cup down with more force than strictly necessary. "I'm just very popular."

Lu hummed, expression returning to something closer to serious. "As much as you'll probably hate the sound of this, I'd recommend you start rationing your visits to the halls of healing a little more. Getting healed so often is simply playing into the other disciple's plans – they will use that to drain your contribution points until you cannot afford any cultivation resources, which could bring your progress to a grinding halt. On the other hand, if you want this nonsense with the duels to stop, your best bet is to start winning them – and the best way to do that is to advance as swiftly as you can. Pain is temporary – victory is forever."

Jiang scoffed. "Victory only lasts until the next fight you lose," he pointed out. "And besides, it doesn't matter – I already broke through to the third stage."

There was a brief pause.

Elder Lu's smile froze.

"…You what?"