Tales of the Teal Mountain Sect

Year 663 of the Stable Era,

First day of the eleventh month

Start of the 6th Inner Hour

It was a crowded night at Li Feng's Happy Dumpling House. The sun had barely begun to dip past the edge of the sky, but already the restaurant was full of disciples celebrating the start of Tournament Month with an abundance of food and drink.

The small restaurant was filled to the brim, so packed with extra chairs and disciples that the servers had been forced to repurpose their flying sword techniques to deliver zhenglongs of dumplings to their guests. Even with every window open as far as they would go the sounds of dozens of conversations overlapped into a constant cacophony, making it impossible for any topic to stay in just one conversation for too long. Interesting notes from each made the rounds between the tables, before making their way across the street for a quiet drink at the teahouse.

Years ago, as a far more naïve disciple, Xia Bao had assumed that a restaurant like this would be empty on the opening night of the festivities. It was well known that the visiting sects brought with them new eateries, small pop-up establishments where visiting chefs prepared the tastes of their homelands for all to try.

He had expected that many of his fellow disciples (even those as travelled as he was) would want to take advantage of such an opportunity to sample such delicacies. While they were busy he could enjoy a nice relaxing dinner at what had quickly become an old favorite of his and get around to exploring the new options once the initial hubbub had died down.

However, what he had overestimated was the insular nature of his fellow disciples. Gossip reigned supreme the first night of the festivities, as nature of each of their guests was always the topic of keen scrutiny. The sects that attended varied from year to year, and while there were some yearly regulars like the Great Dessert Walkers, information about the others was always a hot commodity.

Which disciples and elders were representing each sect, who was participating in what tournament, and what had been brought for trade were amongst the most sought-after tidbits, as their value decayed by the second. More than a few disciples had spent the early hours of the day scouting to the best of their ability, to relay such critical information to their fellow sect members—for a very reasonable fee of course.

Pills, favors and more than a few spirit stones changed hands between the tables' occupants, but for all the calculated brokering, just as much was given freely.

There was a certain spirit of comradery that most cultivation sects possessed, one that only seemed to emerge in the presence of outsiders, and the Teal Mountain Sect was no exception. With a clear and present goal to unify them, a sect's members simply find it easier to work together, or at least that's what Shen had remarked once over a ninth cup of wine. A bit of a bleak perspective for the usually relaxed dragon, but certainly one that made some sense.

As ever, Shen was absent from the table tonight, his duties as an Inner Disciple condemning him to a meal of good food and stifling company.

Talks of trade had claimed Lee Han, who had left in a hurry with Min Huan after hearing a particularly tempting rumor about cheap Eastern Seas Century Ginseng in the market district.

Li Lee was also absent. He'd stopped by for a bit to tell everyone (which had just been Bao and Chao Ren at that point) that there was a sudden gathering of the Li families that he had to attend, and left them with that and a small bottle of a local sauce that one of his relatives had told him to give to his friends. It was a good sauce, sweet and spicy in all the right ways, but a poor replacement for companionship.

That had just left Bao and Chao Ren at the table. As small a gathering as one could get, but not one without its upsides. The table they'd been able to claim at the back of the restaurant was positively diminutive, barely able to accommodate the five chairs they had dragged around it, most of which had been annexed by adjacent groups seconds after they were vacated.

It was actually something close to pleasantly roomy now, with all the absent occupants. A few stacks of zhenglongs were slowly cooling down from a formerly hot land war with Chao Ren's scrolls, having already lost too much territory to concessions with the teapot, the cups, and the sauce bottles.

"I still can't believe it," Chao Ren muttered. A charcoal stick swished away in his hand as he spoke, idly tracing a vague, fiery shape along the sides of his notes. It was the fifth time that he'd said something to that effect since they'd sat down, so the only response Bao could really muster towards it was a sage nod as he blew on a dumpling.

It was a hard sentiment to escape, as the sect's guest Immortal was the topic on everyone's lips.

The entire peak had heard the mysterious voice, strangely inescapable in its intimate address, as well as the returned greeting of some-hundred Lis. Once the Crag Fist Arena had emptied, well…then rumor had once again shown that it was truly unrivaled in cultivation speed.

Word had seemed to have travelled around the peaks twice before Bao could even make it down the front steps, everyone he passed asking or whispering about what he'd just witnessed with his own eyes.

And for good reason. Encountering an Immortal was a truly once in a lifetime occurrence for most cultivators. It was a level of cultivation that few ever attained, a quantity that had been in constant decline since the close of the Primordial Era. It was said that any with the drive to ascend could simply reach that goal in centuries during that time, such was the overabundance of qi suffusing the world.

But such feats were a thing of the past, ended by the very Age of Immortals it had ushered in. Barely a hand's worth had achieved that vaunted goal of cultivation during the Age of Drought, and the fact that that number had already been surpassed in the Stable Era proved that environment had at least some impact on the ease of cultivation.

"Technique and skill can accomplish much," his grandfather had once told him, as they'd watched the osmanthus flowers blossom in his garden, "but qi is necessary for all things."

His garden had always been a place that always felt like it was bursting with warmth and sunlight, a sensation that Bao now understood to be the result of the abundance of the very qi his grandfather had been referring to. The plants there had lived their lives to the best of their ability, albeit at a faster pace than they might have outside of its four wooden walls.

"Those that ascended during the Age of Drought were truly unparalleled in their cultivation, to accomplish so much with so little. Would that I could have encountered one of them, back in my wandering days. Perhaps I could have…ah, but it is foolish to cling to the past like that. That is the lesson that we must always remember from the Halcyon Immortal, Little Bao—that there is nothing to be gained from clinging to what has, or might've, been."

Thinking back to that distant memory, it cast a strange shadow over his own encounter: mere hours ago he had come so much closer than his grandfather had ever gotten, and yet, at the same time, nowhere near the life-changing experience that he'd expected. To see the Thousand Li Immortal so close, to witness that barely contained might, that could reshape the world in its own image with a thought…it had been a truly awe inspiring sight, sure, but hardly one that had offered him any insights other than the barest ideas of the heights of an Immortal's power.

That would require something more. And that was the sort of prospect that the entire sect was abuzz about. That wild possibility that most cultivators only dreamed of, now so tantalizingly within reach.

That being of a chance encounter with the Immortal.

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Of meeting them in disguise, at a bar or roadside, and of striking up a conversation that would lead to him sharing a deep insight that would improve their cultivation by leaps and bounds.

It was a topic that kept cropping up in the conversations around them, as every member of the sect seemed to have their own idea of what it would be like. Imagined encounters of what-ifs and could-bes, half hopes and half one-upsmanships, as everyone seemed to have their own ideas about what such a thing would be like, if it was even possible. Some benign, some optimistic, and some amazingly lofty.

Bao had to admit that the idea had briefly crossed his mind. It was an inevitability really, given the constant bombardment he had experienced while waiting for Chao Ren to arrive. It had been a nice flight of fancy to consider, but hardly something worth pursuing. Attempting to harass such a powerful cultivator seemed more like a better way to court death than it was to pursue enlightenment. He certainly knew that he wouldn't appreciate such a nuisance, if he was the one trying to enjoy the tournament in peace.

But still…

"What do you think it would be like to meet the Immortal?" Bao wondered aloud, chewing on a pork dumpling as he waited to hear what his friend thought about it.

"Dangerous," Chao Ren replied, scratching out a line of notes. He wrinkled his nose in frustration as he grasped for his chopsticks, almost sticking his fingers into his tea before he corrected himself. "You'd be at the complete mercy of his whims. Nothing you could do would protect you from anything he might do, even if you somehow knew another Immortal yourself. Any slip-up or mistake around him and—splecht!"

He punctuated his point by dunking a dumpling into his soy sauce, with enough dramatic flair for it to splatter over his notes. He swore, muttering a chant as he carefully traced a character in the air with his finger.

"I suppose," Bao replied, as Chao Ren's charm pulled the sauce from his paper before it left a stain. It floated around the tip of his finger before he sucked it up with his lips, the one flaw of the mortal technique being that it lacked any way of getting rid of the material it removed. "Though I'd imagine that our sect's guest is the exception to that rule. The Thousand Li Immortal is known for his kindness, after all. There are worse Immortals to have an encounter with."

"That's not really saying much," Chao Ren laughed, letting Bao take the last of the shrimp dumplings before he moved a fresh zhenglong on top of it. A puff of steam wafted up, tingling with the aroma of pork, scallions and the sizzling heat of a rock in the desert sun. One of the stars of their meal, the spirit dumplings made with flame ginseng from the southern wastelands. Chao Ren carefully transferred half to his own plate, leaving the remaining four for Bao to take.

"If your proposal includes the Immortal of the Inevitable End as an option, it's hardly a real comparison," he continued, carefully dipping a corner into his saucer. "A rabid spirit shark would look demure in comparison."

"You're not wrong," Bao laughed back, letting the sensation of the fiery qi of the food seep through him for a moment before reigning it in. His stomach devoured the energy, compressing it down into his dantian without letting a drop slip through his grasp thanks to his family's cultivation technique. After several moments of concentration, he let the qi pulse through him again, this time suffusing itself evenly throughout his body.

The two ate in silence for a while as they focused on the spirit food, each making sure that they got the most out of it. Chao Ren finished before him, taking a sip from his tea to wash down the slightly astringent aftertaste of the ginseng.

"You think Li Lee's gonna get to meet him?" Bao eventually asked, as Chao Ren started to turn back to his papers.

"Probably not," he replied. "He said that he was just going to a gathering for Li disciples from each of the sects."

"But after that?" Bao asked.

"Why are you so interested in this?" Chao Ren asked. "It's not like you'd be the one meeting him, even if he did show up to it for some reason."

"The Thousand Li Immortal's practically a legend around the Wailing Coast! He was the one that came to our aid when the sea beasts tried to sink the port cities after their founding, when everyone else abandoned my ancestors to their fate. We even have a festival for him every summer. And besides, aren't you just a little curious? Of what it would be like to have an encounter like that? To meet someone that's forged their own Dao?"

"I would be, if I had the time to daydream about that sort of thing," Chao Ren replied. "Between my cultivation, the exhibition, Shifu's lesson, work…"

"Oh, you're still doing that?"

"Working for more Teal Mountain Tokens? Of course, I am!" Chao Ren exclaimed. "Cultivation resources don't pay for themselves."

"No, not that. The exhibition," Bao sighed. "Last time you mentioned it you still hadn't made up your mind about it. Are you really sure that you want to go through with it? Even for small ones like the New Disciple Exhibition, the competition can still get pretty fierce. They're not in it for the prizes, they're in it for what winning it means for their future."

"Ah," Chao Ren said, a bit embarrassed at his outburst, "my apologies Bao. I just feel that this is something I need to do to improve my cultivation. I can't just practice. I need to temper myself against a real challenge."

"If that's your choice, I'll be sure to support you from the stands," Bao replied. "Just make sure to be careful. I know that Shen and Lee Han make it sound exciting, but they've spent years making the rounds in regional tournaments. They've got plenty of stories about the good times, sure, but they've probably had more than their fair share of injuries that they'd rather not remember."

"I know, I know," Chao Ren sighed, twirling his charcoal stick over in his hands. "But I just need to do this. If I keep acting afraid of getting hurt, how can I consider myself a real cultivator? I need to prove my resolve, even if only to myself. Indecision would only hurt my dao heart more."

His fingers tick a series of marks against the page as he speaks, cross-hatching a pattern of increasingly overlapped lines with no clear form. "I just…need to do it."

"Well, I'll be sure to be there to cheer for you," Bao said. "It's on the twenty-second, right?"

"Yes. At the Green Jade Training Hall. It starts at the Second Inner Hour."

"Are you sure that you're ready for it?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Chao Ren replied, clicking his chopsticks together with a metallic clink. "With all the practice I've been doing my qi control has really improved. I'll go down before it slips up this time."

Bao gave his companion's eating implements a skeptical look as he put them down with a soft thud. They were a dull black, made from an incredibly dense metal that weighed about 10 pounds apiece. Chao Ren had purchased them far more than Bao would ever think reasonable as part of a set with two bracelets, a weighted pen, and a very heavy spoon.

They'd seemed a bit of an odd training aid to Bao, as all but the bracelets would only be useful for a small amount of time each day. The lack of a maker's mark had also been concerning, as neither the supposed training implements nor the box they'd come in possessed one. It had made him more than a bit inclined to believe that his friend had purchased a failed product being pawned off as a great new invention, as the creators of such tools tended to prefer that their clients remembered who they were. There was a lot of business to be made off of repeat customers, especially since most cultivators liked to replace such implements with more testing versions as their strength grew.

But if they worked for Chao Ren, who was he to argue with the results? They were a good test for fine motor control, and he'd managed to get a good handle on using them after the first few months of agonizingly long meals.

It had taken him longer to remember to stop putting them on plates, though.

Most ceramic ones shattered under the weight, and the wooden ones ended up turning into catapults every time he'd casually leaned his chopsticks against the rim.

"Did you get a new staff for it?" Bao asked, flipping open the last steamer of dumplings.

"I was planning on just using my old one," Chao Ren replied. "I'm used to the length of it."

"That's hardly a good reason. Anyone with a file can clean up a new staff for you."

"I like it, alright," Chao Ren shrugged. "And I'm used to it."

"Yeah, but it's just a regular training staff," Bao replied, pointing his chopsticks at him. "If you're going to be competing, you can't just be using ordinary wood. You need something with a bit of qi of its own, or your first opponent is gonna snap it like a toothpick."

"It is a poor cultivator that relies on artifacts to solve his problems," Chao Ren shot back.

"No, it's a cheap cultivator that doesn't buy himself a half-decent staff to stop himself from getting his ass kicked," Bao remarked. "Look, ordinary oak can only hold so much qi so well. If you're going to be serious about competing, you need to get something made from a species with a bit of spirituality to it. Or older wood. Or both. Otherwise, your first opponent's just gonna split it in half with a single move."

Chao Ren tapped his fingers against the table as he took in Bao's words. He quickly scribbled some sums in the margins of his notes before turning back to him.

"As you know far more about this subject, I will take your words under advisement," Chao Ren said. "I will purchase a new staff before the tournament."

"I'm going to the Inter-Sect Market in a few days," Bao said. "If you want to come with, I can help you select the right material for a staff. My grandfather taught me a bit about the spirit plants."

"I would be glad to," Chao Ren replied. "I was planning to go soon myself. I needed to restock on some pills, and it would also be the perfect chance to scout some manuals for Shifu's test."

"Perfect," Bao exclaimed. "I'll meet you when it opens."

He reached for his cup for a sip of tea, just as a raucous cheer went up from the next table.

"To the Teal Mountain Sect! Victory in every tournament, even the small ones!"

The rest of the restaurant joined in, each table quickly inspiring another as the cheer echoed throughout the building. Bao raised his cup enthusiastically, and after a moment Chao Ren did the same, joining in on the cheer.

"To the Teal Mountain Sect! And victory!"

He added a small addendum as Bao turned to pour himself some more sauce, quietly, so that his friend couldn't hear him. "Even the top five would be fine, though."