Chương 19: Chapter 18

The spiritbeast gave a mournful cry and went down with a crash that shook the whole slope. All around, the girls went oooh and aaah, clapping like junior managers after a particularly impressive golf shot. Wu Zetian lowered her hand, trying her best to keep her twitching lips at bay.

"We cannot thank you enough, honored Ancestor," said Sun Qinglin breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Honestly, it was quite unfair. The Nascent Soul cultivator managed to cut a radiant figure even in disarray. With her softly glowing skin, perfect features and the unearthly grace of each movement, she was the kind of beauty that was immortalized in poems and upon which poems and lovers lost their sleep and found their inspiration.

The soft blush on her high cheekbones put even an Immortal's composure to the test, and Wu Zetian had to repress the voice in her head yelling that this woman was a treasure to protect. It didn't help that the flowers on Left-Spear Peak literally turned to gaze adoringly her way when she passed, or that a soft light seemed to accompany her constantly. What was the word? Ah yes, jade beauty. But does it even qualify anymore? What's the next rank?

The woman clapped, the simple gesture somehow pushing into the heartbreakingly sophisticated. The women of the Delightful Retreat answered at once. Some, poised and refined, brought refreshments; others, less so, rushed for the fallen Mountain Lord with poles and hooks. They were all some degree of beautiful, the tatters of their clothes sometimes improving the feature rather than diminishing it. It seemed like their Sect only accepted that type, and Wu Zetian knew better than to underestimate it.

Beauty was a sword of its own, after all. The Sect Master's voice was smooth like honey and caressing like the night breeze while she poured Wu Zetian their "first batch of spirit-tea".

"It's not much," she said, tipping the small jug with a grace that would have shamed emperors.

"Not at all worthy of the Ancestor's refined palate, but, please, give it a try. It's our first." Her smile felt dangerously close to the sunrise. Wu Zetian studied it, a bit impressed. Her old instincts resurfaced, speaking of advertising campaigns and idols with armies of groupies. She hummed, taking a small sip. It really wasn't anything much, the first, bumbling attempt at producing spirit tea from people whose only previous experiences was in catalogue choosing.

Still, Sun Qinglin managed to make it feel more than it was: the proof of an unorthodox Sect that had found the light, now reformed and on the road of honest work. The Sect Master wore humbleness like a second skin, so well that it was very easy to forget she was only one Realm beneath her own. Wu Zetian would hand it to her: she was good. Very good, in fact. Her Shadow Sense had to work overdrive to pick up the tension she hid, the fierce protectiveness that would have appeared as a tremble in any other person.

And that was in her domain. She wondered if she'd be able to if they were outside of it. It was as distant from the Devouring Horde as it could be, and it made her appreciate once again Gan Nim's skills in bringing them all together.

"How is the Domain treating you?" She asked pleasantly. Two women in tattered silks brought a small folding chair for her to sit. She sat on the rise, observing the bustle beneath. The women of the Retreat were colorful points of color among the ruins. Watching them try to put some order into things, Wu Zetian was reminded of a flock of colorful birds skirting the water. Sun Qinglin's smile was breathless. She knew better than to try and lie.

"Exhausting, honored Founder. This lifestyle isn't at all what we are used to." She'd bet. Her info was very clear on the Retreat: they were courtesans and healers, surviving in the dog-eat-dog universe of the Borderlands by offering their skills at mediation, healing and less savory services to the other Sects. Their parlours were places of respite in a stressful world, oasis of peace and beauty where you could lay down your head without fearing for your life for once.

It was a service that no cultivator could say no to, even as he would never admit it. Yet, it was still impressive for them to have survived and developed to that extent, notwithstanding their sect Master being a Nascent Soul. Or maybe not. Of course, charm was only half of the story. Every rose has its thorns… thought Wu Zetian, eyeing two girls as they directed spellbound spiritbeasts to pull down a wall.

Thankfully, these girls seemed pretty firm on not putting men under the same conditions, except when things required it.

"The herb fields are being rebuilt, as you commanded." Sun Qinglin tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. An adorable gesture that made her want to pinch her cheek.

"We set aside rebuilding our shelters for it. Current estimations are that we'll be able to send the first shipment to the Main Sect by the end of the month." Wu Zetian hummed.

"How much?"

"We estimate a range between fifteen and twenty-five Shi, honored Founder." Wu Zetian ran the numbers. One shi followed, in a strange twist of history, the same standardized measure set by the first Qin Emperor, Shi Huangdi; which put it to 60 kilograms. A ton of medium and high-quality spirit herbs was a pitiful amount. Refined into pills, elixirs, body tempering baths and artifact solutions, they would last the main Sect a couple of days, and only if their distribution was limited to Inner Disciples and above.

"A good start," she commented, taking a sip. She had gone through the rolls kept in the Sect's archives. Even in its diminished state, the Godless Night devoured resources at an astonishing pace. She didn't think that her old world would have been able to sustain it. Only the ridiculous amount of growth and quality a cultivation land afforded could, and at the moment, she was trying to empty a sea with a bucket. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Her main expenditure was stipends, the version of them in this world. Spirit stones were the currency, and pills the added bonus for Sect membership. They were distributed monthly, their amount revolving around a merit-based system that took talent and results into account. As all things, nepotism was a factor, sometimes quite an important one, but she intended to curb it as much as possible. One of the reasons for the Sect's fall was the rise of that plague.

Wu Zetian had her mental list regarding the Sect's current status. It ran something like this: Godless Night Sect Status Health: Poor, poison and demonic Qi infections rampant Numbers: Roughly 20. 000 cultivators (few Core Formation, mostly Foundation Estabilishment and Qi Condensation), 200. 000 Sect serfs Morale: High. The Ancestor has returned. Army: Veterans, disciplined, used both to irregular and regular warfare. Very skilled in siege defense. Very skilled in stealth and assassination.

Equipment: Battered yet serviceable. No new addition. Only repaired or recycled items. Special equipment: Lost or sealed because of upkeep impossibility Tasks: Rebuilding fortification, infrastructure and facilities. Healing.

Monthly expenditure (Arrays and facilities maintenance, monthly allowances, equipment and healing, mostly basics) Spirit Herbs Low-quality: 80 Tons Medium-quality: 20 Tons High-quality: 3 Tons Peak: // Beast parts Low-quality: 60 Tons Medium-quality: 30 Tons High-quality: 2 Tons Peak: // Spirit Stones Low-quality: 1 million Medium-quality: 200. 000 High-quality: 50.

000 Peak: // Monthly production Spirit Herbs (Delightful Retreat farming, mortal farming) Low-quality: // Medium-quality: 800 Kg High-quality: 300 Kg Peak: // Beast parts (Devouring Horde hunting, Scavenger Moon hunting) Low-quality: 5 Tons Medium-quality: 2 Ton High-quality: 1 Ton Peak: // Spirit Stones (Stonemancer mining, shadow spirits mining) Low-quality: 200. 000 Medium-quality: 40. 000 High-quality: 2.

000 Peak: // And that was only to keep the Sect's basic facilities working, with no store to fall back to and no hidden warehouse. She didn't include treasures for auction houses splurges, trade purchases, spirit beast feeding and prizes for worthy students. Or to finance Nascent Soul level cultivation, or her own, of course. That was a very, very distant dream at the moment. Wu Zetian quietly marveled at what an engine a Sect was. Industrial conglomerate, trade hub and theocratic empire all rolled into one.

Did it make her a bad person that her blood boiled just a little bit by thinking about it?

"Increase production," she said. The cup made a tiny clink when she set it down.

"It must reach at least ten times the current amount." The women attending her flinched. Sun Qinglin just nodded obediently.

"You'll receive stonemasons to rebuild your quarters and stonemancers to improve the fields. If they slack off or prove themselves a nuisance, do what you must." Something that may have been surprise flashed in the woman's eyes, but she reined in quickly. When she nodded, it was with her usual grace. Later, while perusing the scrolls the Sect handed over, she would realize that, strangely enough, it would have been a burden for them to actually do it.

The Delightful Retreat didn't shy from bandying word and body to get their way, nor to charm spirit-beasts to do their bidding. But they always hesitated to turn their charming abilities on men. It was ingrained into them by their Dao. Simply put, they cultivated through love. Acts of love, true love, made them rise through their Dao, springing them from Realm to Realm across a bridge of connections. The deeper the bond the more they could gain from it, both physically and as a means to fulfill their life.

A heart made passionate by charm and effort was precious to them, and they more often than not lost themselves to it. It didn't happen so rarely that one of their number would leave the Great Path to remain with the person they tied themselves to. The rest of the Sect understood and appreciated: they felt too deeply not to. They could feel its depth, its significance, and so could more readily appreciate the deceit of enforced yearning.

They did so to the point that they were repelled by it, considering it as blasphemous as slavery. It was almost enough to touch even the dead, cold heart of a wicked woman like her. Exotic, to be sure. It made Wu Zetian wonder about their reason for being in the Borderlands.

"This doesn't have to last forever," she said, closing her eyes to enjoy the tea better. It was starting to grow on her.

"If your Sect prove itself and the fields prosper, I am sure that guardianship will require fewer hands." She didn't need Shadow Sense to feel the yearning quivering from the attendants. Even the Nascent Soul shivered with it for a split second before reining it in with a sharp snap.

"Obviously," she said, pleasant and matter-of-fact like a spring rain.

"Why, if the honored Founder so desires, we shall gladly supply the main Sect with charmed spirit beasts." Wu Zetian made a show of thinking about it. She couldn't feed her people now. Spirit beasts would be of much more use as feed than as pets. But the honored Ancestor couldn't be seen juggling numbers, could she?

"Up to which rank?" She asked instead, carelessly and unbothered.

"Rank 7. At that level, we can sustain a maximum of three units, with the spells needing monthly renewal," was the quick answer, and it was almost enough to make her pause. In the various Ranks humans came up with to rank the various unpleasant things running around the world, Rank 7 was enough to be a bother for a Core Formation cultivator. Not enough he couldn't strike one down, but definitely enough that he couldn't act carelessly around it. Quite impressive, but no, not yet. To keep in mind.

"Focus on the fields," she said.

"Charm a few beasts for protection if you must. Three is just right, or seven of Rank 6. No more." Sun Qinglin took it in stride, like she seemed to do with everything. The attendants relaxed a fraction, and Wu Zetian allowed herself to sample the tea for a moment more before moving on.

"What I asked?" The girl she was presented with must have been twenty at best. She was a pretty little thing, on the short side, but as beautiful as a doll. As she bowed before her, Wu Zetian noted the ample, colorful kimono; the long, silky hair and the pale eyes that gleamed with a moon's glow and a mix of fear and embarassment. Sun Mei was the daughter of the Sect Master. Peak Qi Condensation, cultivation blocked in the most quintessential bottleneck.

It could have been an insult if not for her illustrious mother, or the fact that she had quite the noteworthy base talent, very pure wood-aligned Spirit Roots and an unawakened Bloodline still to classify. Wu Zetian took her in with a slow look, noting the way she trembled like a leaf. Not one martial bone in this one, but martial strenght wasn't all, not in her worldview. Faith and talent and potential. Now she could work with those.

"You'll escort her to the palace. Arrangements are already being made." The Nascent Soul nodded. The tightness in her shoulders and the fingers clutched tight told volumes about what she felt. Wu Zetian made a note of treating that little girl well, or at least to allow her plenty of chances to go back home. She liked not to be an old monster, after all.