Chương 117: 116. Horns of the Dragon

Relief comes first. Of all the things Ling'er might have requested, additional living space is manageable. Expensive, perhaps, but manageable. The sect already has workers on the mountain, several construction projects nearing completion, and enough timber arriving through Shen Qiao's contracts that another room would not strain us badly.

"How much larger? I can arrange things with Shen Qiao–""I do not require workers," Ling'er says.

"I only need permission to expand it myself." That is less reassuring.

"You intend to build it?"

"Yes." She reaches into her robe pocket and removes several folded sheets. My relief disappears before she finishes opening them. The first page contains a floor plan. The second shows an exterior elevation. By the fourth, it becomes clear that Ling'er and I have very different understandings of the word 'room'. She smooths the paper flat.

"The upper floor will be quieter for cultivation." I continue reading. There is a reinforced cultivation chamber beneath the main structure, separated from the other rooms by layered formations. An alchemy room occupies most of the eastern side, with stone walls, heat-resistant flooring, and ventilation channels designed to draw smoke away from the rest of the building. A library sits opposite it.

The next page includes a formation workshop, two storage rooms, a private courtyard, and a garden divided into several sections. I look at the scale markings again.

"This would be nearly five times the size of your current quarters."

"Yes."

"It would be larger than mine." Ling'er considers that.

"Master could expand his as well." My quarters have remained largely unchanged since I arrived. One bedroom, one study, a cultivation room, and enough storage to contain the possessions of a man who spent most of his life unable to afford much. I look back at the plans. My first instinct is to refuse. The sect has only recently stopped measuring every repair against the remaining spirit stones. We are still rebuilding halls, expanding shared quarters, and purchasing basic supplies for new disciples.

Allowing one person to construct a private residence larger than several existing buildings would be difficult to explain, even if we can comfortably afford it. It would also establish a precedent. If Ling'er receives a courtyard, others will eventually ask when they may earn one. Private rooms become private residences. Residences become hillsides. Given enough success, disciples may begin discussing which peak belongs to whom. Then I remember that stronger sects already operate that way.

Inner disciples often possess private courtyards. Core disciples and elders may control entire sections of a mountain. Personal cultivation chambers, workshops, gardens, and storage are not treated as indulgences when the person using them produces enough value to justify the space. Coiling Dragon cannot claim it intends to become a major sect while treating every sign of growth as excess.

Ling'er trains the disciples, studies formations, develops medicinal plans, refines pills, inspects construction, and produces manuals the sect could never afford to purchase. The alchemy room alone would eventually save more than the building costs. The formation workshop would reduce damage elsewhere. The library would contain techniques and notes valuable enough to require secure storage.

More importantly, the contribution system means little if the sect cannot provide anything beyond meals, robes, and a bed in shared quarters. Ling'er has already contributed more than anyone on the mountain. If even she cannot ask for space suited to her work, then the system is only a promise made to people too inexperienced to test it. I return to the first page, then I set the plans down.

"You have permission." Ling'er bows.

"Thank you, Master." She gathers the pages, folds them along their existing creases, and stores them away.

"When do you intend to begin?"

"Now." Before I can ask whether that means planning, excavation, or the demolition of her current wall, she has already left the room. I watch her leave. A moment later, the sound of stone breaking carries from the direction of her quarters. That is when I realize I still have nothing to give her. Ling'er designed the residence herself. She intends to build it herself, and she had already prepared the plans before I learned today was her birthday. All I have contributed is the absence of an objection.

'That may have value coming from a Sect Leader, but it is not much of a gift from a master.' I sit with that thought for several breaths before rising. Old Chen is in the kitchen hall reviewing the evening stores when I find him. Two assistants move around him carrying baskets of vegetables and sacks of grain while he inspects a pot with the severity of someone judging a cultivation breakthrough.

"Ling'er's birthday is today," I say. Old Chen looks up.

"Today? We'll make it a feast!"

"Yes. Do not turn it into a formal banquet," I say.

"Keep it modest." I leave before the definition of modest changes further. Autumn Leaf carries me down the mountain. This body's instinctive fear still tightens my stomach, though less than it once did.

'I should have prepared something earlier.' That thought is unfair, considering I did not know she had a birthday until this morning, but it remains true. But a proper gift would require time; Wei Zheng could have forged something suited to her. New robes could have been ordered to reflect her status as Core Disciple rather than merely copying the sect's standard design. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Greenstone Town is unlikely to contain any of those things.

The market confirms this quickly. The pill shops carry nothing she cannot refine better herself. The manuals are either too basic to matter or suspicious enough that I would not give them to anyone I intended to keep alive. The weapons are serviceable by local standards and irrelevant by hers. I stop outside a jewelry stall for several minutes. Most of the pieces are decorated with flowers, birds, or auspicious beasts.

'Some are attractive. I think.' My uncertainty may be the problem. Jewelry feels frivolous, but perhaps that only means I have no idea how to judge it. Ling'er wears her hair simply because it is practical. But that doesn't mean she would dislike something ornamental. It also doesn't mean she would like it either. I continue walking. Near the market road, a travelling merchant has established a temporary stall beneath a patched canopy.

His goods appear to have been collected from several provinces and arranged according to no system I can identify. Minor talismans hang beside carved ornaments. Storage pouches share space with polished stones, spirit-beast teeth, hair accessories, old coins, and several objects advertised as antiques despite looking recently dusted. The merchant greets me with immediate enthusiasm.

"Senior has excellent timing. This piece came from the tomb of a forgotten general." He holds up a bronze buckle. I leave without buying anything. For the next hour, I search the rest of Greenstone Town. Nothing improves. By the time I return to the market road, the travelling merchant is explaining to a mortal farmer that one of his wooden pendants was blessed by an itinerant daoist whose name he cannot presently recall. He notices me approaching and smiles as though he expected my return.

I ignore him and look over the ornaments again. That is when I see the hairpin. It rests near the rear of the stall beneath several brighter pieces. The jade is pale without being flawless, and the carving is simple enough that I nearly overlooked it the first time. A small dragon winds along the length of the pin. Its body disappears gradually into a pattern of clouds near the end. I pick it up. The merchant opens his mouth. I activate the Gaze before he can begin.

Simple Jade Hairpin - Grade: Low Type: Ornament Material: Genuine white jade Effect: None Verdict: An ordinary ornament. Appropriately priced. The merchant has exaggerated neither its age nor its origin, primarily because there is nothing impressive to exaggerate. I look at the merchant.

"How much?" He names a price. I purchase the hairpin and place it carefully inside my storage ring. By the time I return to Coiling Dragon Mountain, the sun has begun to lower. I cross the formation and look toward the main grounds, then I stop. Ling'er's residence is already standing. I remain at the edge of the path and stare. The supporting beams appear to have been grown directly from the ground. There are no visible joints in the wood and no gaps where one section has been fitted against another.

The outer walls curve with the terrain rather than cutting across it, and part of the second floor rests against the slope itself, supported by roots thick enough to resemble carved pillars. A low wall of living wood encloses the courtyard behind the residence. Beyond it, the garden has already been divided into several sections. Despite the size, the building does not crowd the surrounding grounds.

Ling'er has placed it along an underused stretch of the mountain and shaped the walls around the existing trees and stone. From a distance, it looks less like something built upon the slope than something that grew from it. It is also the second-largest building in the sect after the main hall. Several disciples have gathered outside by the time I reach it. They enter carefully, lowering their voices without being told.

The caution is closer to what I would expect while inspecting an elder's residence than the new quarters of a thirteen-year-old disciple. Wei Chen looks over the upper floor.

"How many contribution points would something like this cost?"

"To be decided."

"Could someone earn one?"

"Worry about becoming an Inner Disciple first." I mean the answer. Looking across the mountain and calculating how much usable land remains, if a dozen future Core disciples request residences of this scale, Coiling Dragon will need another mountain. Ling'er kneels near the center of the lower floor with one hand pressed against the wood. Fine lines spread outward beneath her fingers, branching along the floor and climbing the walls. At first glance, they resemble decoration. I activate the Gaze.

Integrated Formation Network - Grade: Medium Effect: Soundproofing, intrusion detection, temperature regulation, fire suppression, structural reinforcement. Central Array: Unified low-grade spiritual power core. Verdict: Efficiently integrated into the structure. Formation lines have been reduced sufficiently to preserve function without disrupting the residence's appearance. Maintenance costs three low-grade spirit stones per month under normal use. I crouch beside her.

"When did you learn to engrave formation lines this finely?"

"During the tournament. Mu Jianyu's equipment used micro-arrays. Some were inefficient, but the principle was useful. I combined it with the formation texts from Elder Frostheart and Celestial Jade City." Of course she did. I make a mental note to ask whether she can improve the formations in my quarters; and possibly the quarters themselves. It would reflect poorly on the sect if the Core Disciple possessed a larger and better-designed residence than the Sect Leader. That is the only reason. The Gaze flickers.

Lu Chen - Foundation Establishment (Sixth Stage) Verdict: Currently experiencing jealousy. I dismiss it. When Ling'er finishes the central array, I walk through the residence again. By Coiling Dragon standards, it is extravagant. Almost none of the space is wasted. The cultivation chamber is reinforced and separated from the rest of the structure. The alchemy room vents toward the rear slope.

The workshop contains recessed storage for formation materials, and the library shelves have been grown directly into the walls. Even the courtyard garden has been designed as a controlled environment for cultivation and experimentation. The only feature without an obvious practical function is the circular window above her bed. It faces the open sky. At night, she will be able to see the stars without leaving the room.

"You did well," I say when I return downstairs. She looks pleased. That evening, the sect gathers in the dining hall. Old Chen has interpreted modestly with some flexibility. There are no banners or ceremonial speeches, but the tables hold long-life noodles, several meat dishes, red eggs, and a sweet rice dessert he claims is customary. Ling'er accepts the congratulations with visible uncertainty.

She bows when people speak to her, thanks them carefully, and appears unsure whether she is expected to answer each person differently. The attention makes her slightly stiff, but she does not retreat from it. She eats well. By the time the meal ends, the disciples begin dispersing in small groups. Some return to their quarters. Others remain behind to help Old Chen clean the tables or finish the last duties of the evening. I wait until the hall has mostly emptied before approaching Ling'er.

"There is one more thing." I remove the hairpin from my storage ring. For a moment, she only looks at it. Compared with everything already available to her, it is insignificant. The hairpin does nothing. It cannot improve her cultivation, protect her from an attack, or assist the sect. Ling'er accepts it with both hands. She turns it carefully between her fingers and traces the carved dragon with her thumb. Then she smiles.

The expression is bright and immediate enough that I realize I chose correctly despite having no idea what I was doing.

"I will treasure it," she says.

"Thank you." I reach over and ruffle her hair. My palm catches against something beneath it. I stop. There are two small, hard protrusions hidden beneath the thickness of her hair. They sit symmetrically above her scalp, slightly behind the hairline. Ling'er goes still. I part her hair carefully. Two horn nubs have begun pushing through her scalp. Neither extends farther than the first joint of my smallest finger. Their surfaces are smooth and dark.

True Dragon Bloodline - Early Physical Manifestation Type: Bloodline Development Effect: Cranial horn growth. Verdict: Healthy and stable. The hairpin will become significantly more difficult to wear.