Chương 11: Conspiracy

Rowan"Of course I can," promised Rowan. Ash's tongue moved in his mouth, like he was practicing how to say the words.

"How much do you know about our family's history?"

"I sat through the same lessons you did, as have all our cousins."

"The working on your spatial sleeve is damaged. Here, hand me your outer robe. I'll stitch it for you." With a strange expression, Rowan pulled off his white outer robes and gave them to his cousin. Ash found a kit of enchanted yarns and a needle in his own robes. He carefully mended the stitching.

"Humor me. Tell me what you know." Rowan paused.

"Two thousand years ago, we arrived at Righteous Mountain. We ruled the lands between Righteous Mountain and Three-Color Gorge, and built the fourteen piers in between, including Deepwhale Pier. But we sold most of it five hundred years ago for some relic, and one of our ancestors took the relic and disappeared." Ash nodded slowly.

"That's the story they told us, yes. But think about it. We don't know what the relic was. We don't have a name for the ancestor in question. Isn't that a little suspicious?"

"Not really," said Rowan.

"It's probably confidential information. Wouldn't someone like Great-Aunt Iris know?" Ash looked as though he was in physical pain.

"No, she wouldn't. Because that isn't the real story. My father told me the truth one day - told me that I needed to understand. Our house ruled most of the peninsula, yes, but we weren't sabotaged by an ancestor. It was the local powers. They grew fearful of our influence and conspired to slaughter our best cultivators and steal our lands for themselves. Emptying our library. We used to live on Righteous Mountain, you know? Now we're a little compound on the outskirts.

And that band of people who overthrew us is now called the Earthly Harmony Alliance, headed by the despicable Heavenly Skies Sect."

"How much of this are you sure about?" Rowan asked, barely able to believe it.

"At least the looting of the library," admitted Ash.

"We have to reach Qi Refinement to access our house's historical annals. But think about it. What do the elders always warn us about? Advancing too fast? Isn't that normally a good thing?" he growled.

"And now Patriarch Yarrow receives missives from the Alliance constantly, demanding more taxes and tributes. As if they don't already squeeze our house for every spirit herb and coin we get!" Rowan's blood went cold when he thought of his father, the most talented cultivator since his Great Aunt. The facts never added up. His father had been a righteous cultivator to the point of seeming unreasonable to others. Why would he ever steal a demonic artifact and bring it back to the estate?

It was more likely he'd destroy it on the spot. Also, demonic cultivators were notorious for being unable to work together - they were too selfish. It was their greatest weakness. So how could twelve of them decide to team up, just for one artifact? Who would take it, in the end? How could they all die for it? Rowan always knew his father's death had been a set-up. There had never been a doubt in his mind.

However, he'd thought the demonic cultivator faction simply feared his father's strength and wanted an excuse to take him out. He'd never considered… it could've been a plot from within the righteous faction. Ash finished mending his robes, throwing them back at Rowan.

"Do you think the Alliance of Earthly Harmony killed my father?"

"Why not? Seems like something they would do." The flippant response snapped Rowan out of his introspection. Right - Ash was the kind of person who couldn't stand a single speck of dirt on his face. What could juniors like the two of them know? He tried to be reasonable. But it was hard. Because, in the end, he was the same type of person as his cousin. His mother's words echoed through his mind.

"Remember what they do to us…" If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Rowan might not have all the information. But he would remember. He'd remember, and when the time came, he'd make sure everyone knew it. He pulled out the jade slip - his father's rank-four manual - and stared longingly at the polished surface.

"Here." The jade slip flipped through the air, landing in Ash's lap. Ash looked at him with wide eyes.

"Brother…"

"I refuse to let you shatter your cultivation. There are other arts I can practice." A sardonic laugh left him.

"Besides, how would I even be able to purchase a single portion of Dry Fire qi? I'm flat broke. You might as well continue with it." To his surprise, the jade slip was flicked back at Rowan.

"How could I possibly cultivate an opportunity stolen from my own brother? Now that I know the truth, I'd deviate on the spot." Ash shook his head.

"How about this? Keep the manual for a month. If you make any headway, take it for yourself. If you have no fate with it, then you can send it back." Finding the compromise fair, Rowan nodded, holding it between his fingers. Ash stood up and stretched.

"I'm going to spend a few hours in the cold springs. Might as well get ahead of all this bruising I'm going to have by tomorrow." Rowan waved him off. The sect's cold springs were obviously not something a mere guest like him had any right to. Instead, he prodded his tender side, wincing. Bruising indeed. He shook out a few blood-clotting pills from his sleeve and gulped them down. On his way to Deepwhale Pier, he was sure he'd have to fight Ash for the manual - especially after his retinue betrayed him.

Nasty business. Instead, he had acquired the manual without a single scratch, and felt endlessly guilty about it. He decided not to waste any time and sent his qi into the jade slip. A thousand pages flipping continuously appeared in his mind's eye. Rowan skimmed a few paragraphs here and there. He landed on a complex diagram of the human body's spiritual system. How to cycle Dry Fire qi through your meridians without burning them to ashes. How did Ash and his father have the courage to do this suicidal thing?

"You'd be better off cultivating that rank-one Between Heaven and Earth: Breath in Five Elements, kid," a deep voice drawled boredly.

"That codex is a joke, and that isn't even to mention how you have no affinity for Dry Fire." Rowan stilled. The voice was inside his head, and he knew, unerringly, where it was coming from. With trembling hands he took the blood red stone out from his sleeve. A bit of light flickered within it.

"Senior?" he whispered.

"Mm. In a way, your case is one of the unluckiest I've ever encountered." Rowan didn't dare ask. He could almost feel the entity on the other end considering him, the way a man might tilt a wine cup to see how it caught the light.

"Your father was a Truefire prodigy. Your mother, Steelborn. A very complementary pairing - the kind that can produce, in a child, the rare Forgegod Spirit Root." The voice sighed.

"Unfortunately, you also inherited the Bloodwood lineage of House Helsing. Either gift, on its own, would have guaranteed first-rate talent. A Forgegod Spirit Root and a Living Wood lineage, warring against another like kingdoms with different ideals - well. Your spiritual system is having a rather prolonged disagreement with itself. Something of a small miracle you can cycle qi at all." The revelations hit Rowan all at once, leaving him breathless. Could he even trust these words? Who was this senior?

Forgegod Spirit Root… Bloodwood innate ability… he tried to put it out of his mind, resolving to verify it later. It was horrifying to know that the senior could examine the make of his blood and dissect it into parts. That it could see what his parents had been born with.

"This artifact can balance your qi, if you wish to cultivate. But I'd hardly call it a worthwhile arrangement. For either of us. You'd spend a decade clawing toward what someone with an average system would manage in a season. Living your days as a mortal would be a better use of your time." If this senior had been standing before him in person, Rowan would've never dared to contradict him. But in the form of a helpless stone, he found he had more courage.

"Senior, with this stone I was able to form an A-grade Qi Sea. Is my future still so bleak?"

"In more civil places, what you call an 'A-grade Qi Sea' is standard fare - anything less is treated as a deficiency." After a beat the senior's voice warmed, seeming a bit more interested." You met an interesting girl at the restaurant. Try passing me along to her. She'd find me considerably more useful. She would also, I imagine, be inclined to part with a few spirit stones for your magnanimity."

"..." Wasn't that a bit insulting? He breathed out.

"Senior, politely, I refuse." His grip tightened around the stone.

"If my situation is as dire as you say… then you're my only chance to cultivate. How can I possibly give you up?"

"Hm." The light in the stone died out.