Chương 27: "Beautiful, but completely wrong"

Ch 27: "Beautiful, but completely wrong" Ruo-Chen vanished down another corridor, her footsteps fading away. Zhen stared after her, then turned to the man she had left him with. He stood with his hands clasped before him, his posture perfect. Even standing still, he possessed an elegance that made Zhen acutely aware of his own, sorry, state. Dirt caked his skin. Despite the healing potion Shuo had given him, burns striped his arms and chest where lightning had carved into flesh.

His bare feet stuck out from his ill-fitting robe and left smudges on the pristine marble. The man's expression was kind, but a small smile touched his lips.

"You can call me Kul," he said, his voice a calming, resonant hum.

"I am Mistress Zie's seneschal. If there is anything you need, no matter how trivial, you need only ask either me or any of the other servants here." He gestured toward one of the corridors.

"If you wouldn't mind following me." Kul swept forward, clearly taking care to move at a pace that would allow Zhen to keep up. Zhen limped after him, wincing with each step. Twice, Kul paused to murmur orders to servants who materialized from side passages. They bowed, then rushed off without question. Finally, Kul stopped before a door and opened it with a small bow.

"After you, Master Tie." Zhen stepped inside and stumbled to a halt to take in what was in front of him. The space was a drawing room, but the entire house he grew up in would have fit inside. Couches upholstered in green silk faced each other across low tables inlaid with jade. The far wall opened onto another terrace with those impossible views stretching to the horizon. But this time it was the back wall that caught his eye. Raw stone had been carved to expose thick clusters of emeralds running through the rock.

Light played across the facets, casting green shadows throughout the space. Subtle touches of the same color appeared in cushions and artwork. Kul swept past him, already moving toward the doors lining the side wall.

"For obvious reasons, this suite is the Emerald Room." He opened the first door.

"Your bedroom." Zhen peered inside. A bed dominated the center, its frame carved from dark wood. Rows of elaborate chests decorated with mother-of-pearl lined one wall. Kul had already moved to the next door.

"Bathroom." He gestured at fixtures Zhen couldn't begin to identify.

"Study." Another room, this one filled with shelves and a writing desk.

"And the cultivation room." The final space was bare except for a circle inscribed on the floor. Symbols Zhen didn't recognize marked its perimeter, glowing faintly with residual qi. The idea that there was a room solely dedicated to cultivation was beyond his comprehension"Naturally, everything here is for your sole use," Kul said.

"If you require anything else, you need only ask." A knock sounded at the main door.

"Come." Kul answered before Zhen could react. A younger man entered. Shorter than Kul, though broader through the shoulders. Dark hair fell into his eyes as he bowed. Everything about him suggested reliability and solidity.

"This is Qua," Kul said.

"He will be your personal manservant while you are here. Day or night, whatever you need, he will be available." Zhen's exhaustion frayed into confusion.

"That doesn't seem necessary. I'm not going to be here long. Once I find out what Ruo-Chen wants with me and I meet up with Shuo and Chul, we'll be on our way." Something flickered across Kul's face at the mention of Shuo's name. The expression vanished so quickly Zhen might have imagined it.

"We shall see what happens." Kul's smile remained gentle.

"But be it for three hours or three months, Qua will be here." He inclined his head.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I have other duties to attend to. I leave you in Qua's capable hands. He will escort you to Mistress Zie when you're ready." The door closed behind him with a soft click. Qua studied Zhen for a long moment. His gaze traveled from the burns scoring Zhen's chest to the dirt caking his feet. He frowned.

"I can see we have work to do here." Then he smiled.

"This is going to be fun." Qua clapped once and a small army of servants swept into the room, many of them bearing steaming jugs. The scent of heated water and something floral filled the air. Qua gestured toward the bathroom.

"Perhaps Master Tie would like to wash up?" Panic bloomed in Zhen's chest. Washing meant a jug of well water poured over his head after a hard day at the forge. In summer, he swam in the river with the other village youths, scrubbing dirt from his skin with handfuls of sand. But he had no idea of what he was meant to do in a room like that. Qua eyes flickered to Zhen's anxious face, and he moved toward the bathroom without missing a beat, his tone conversational.

"We are rather unusual in how we organize our washing facilities here. I hope you won't take offence if I explain to you how it works. There are a number of little quirks that trip up every guest." He pushed the door wider.

"There are two baths. The first is just soap and water to get you clean. The second is for afterward, to relax your muscles. It has a very specific combination of petals from spirit flowers and oils based on your injuries." The words carried no judgment and Zhen nodded, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders.

"If there are no questions, I'll leave you to it," Qua said, retreating.

"Take your time. I will be waiting outside." The first bath scalded at first, then eased into something bearable. Zhen scrubbed soot and dried blood from his skin, wincing as the water stung his wounds. But being clean was worth it, and by the time he climbed into the second bath, his limbs felt heavy. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Flowers floated on the surface. Their scent wrapped around him, something sweet and herbal he couldn't name.

The oils shimmered in patterns that didn't seem entirely natural. Without quite meaning to, his eyes drifted closed. When he woke, the water had cooled. He climbed out, droplets sliding down his arms where burns had been. While his skin remained pink and raw, all but the worst of the wounds had closed, leaving only faint lines. While he slept, the robe that Shuo had given him had vanished from where he had dropped it on the floor.

In its place, neatly folded on a chair, lay soft undergarments, a silk dressing gown in deep blue, and a pair of slippers lined with fur. The stitching alone probably cost more than his family earned in a season. Zhen stared at them. He didn't want to think about who had been in the bathroom while he was lying there naked. With no other option, he pulled on the clothes, fumbling with the unfamiliar ties. Finally he cinched the dressing gown tight and stepped into the main room.

Qua waited near one of the couches, hands folded. His gaze flicked over Zhen.

"I hope that was acceptable," he said.

"If you're ready, let's get you some proper clothes." He gestured toward the bedroom.

"This way, Master Tie." Zhen's attention was drawn to the clothes stands that had appeared throughout the room. Outfits hung from each one, fabric gleaming in the late afternoon light. A woman stood next to one, her fingers smoothing out an invisible crease on the sleeve of one robe. Her clothes burst with color, layers of mismatched silk in crimson and gold and deep purple, all somehow working together. Reddish-brown hair escaped its braids in wild tendrils.

When she turned, her face was creased with fierce concentration.

"Master Tie," Qua said, "this is Mi-Rane, the senior tailor for our estate. Mistress Zie has made it clear you require a whole new wardrobe." Mi-Rane swept forward, her assessing gaze taking in everything about Zhen as it raked over him.

"Yes, yes, I can see exactly what we need." She spun toward the clothes stands.

"The blue would bring out his eyes, but the earth tones would complement his natural coloring. And we must consider movement, of course. I understand that he is a crafter. A smith needs freedom in the shoulders."

"The green," Qua countered, moving to another stand.

"Might I suggest that it speaks to resilience."

"But the cut of this one." Mi-Rane lifted a sleeve.

"See how it drapes? It would move with him, not against him." They fell into a rapid conversation, gesturing between outfits and debating details Zhen couldn't follow. He stepped away, moving toward the nearest stand. The robe hanging there caught the light, deep blue silk embroidered with silver clouds that seemed to shift as he moved. He reached out, fingers barely brushing the fabric. It was softer than cobwebs. He looked around and the room was filled with exquisite items like this.

Every piece spoke of wealth beyond his imagination. The embroidery alone would have taken weeks. Months, maybe. Each stitch perfect, each pattern flowing into the next with the kind of dedication to the craft he recognized from his own work at the forge. Beautiful, but completely wrong. Zhen's chest tightened. He turned back to where Qua and Mi-Rane continued their animated discussion.

"Excuse me." They both stopped mid-gesture.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he said.

"But is there anything else I could wear?" Mi-Rane opened her mouth, expression already shifting toward concern, but Qua raised a hand. She fell silent.

"Why do you ask?" Qua's tone carried nothing but gentle curiosity. Heat crept up Zhen's neck. He gestured at the stands around them.

"I'm just a village smith. These are clothes for cultivators. They're not for the likes of me." Silence stretched between them. Then Qua smiled, something warm and understanding crossing his features.

"Of course, Master Tie." He moved toward the far side of the room where there were a number of simple wood and leather chests Zhen hadn't spotted before.

"In which case, maybe we could look at some other options." Mi-Rane followed without question, already pulling open lids. They worked together, bringing out garments that made Zhen's shoulders drop in relief. Simple tunics in undyed linen. Trousers in sturdy cotton, dark brown and charcoal grey. Leather belts without ornament. Knee-length coats cut for movement. Cloaks lined with wool that looked like they could actually keep out the weather.

Instead of the gem-studded shoes that were lined up at the side of the room, Mi-Rane pulled out solid boots that looked like they would last for years in the fields or in the forge. All of it still carried that mark of exceptional quality. Far superior to anything he had owned before, but it was now clothing for working folk. Qua spread several options across the bed, then turned back to Zhen.

"Might this be more acceptable?" Zhen felt his face split into a genuine smile.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Before I was taken into Mistress Zie's service, I grew up on a farm." Qua gestured to his own immaculate robes.

"Even though I'm accustomed to clothes like this now, I remember how alien it felt." His expression softened.

"None of this is for us. The important thing is that you feel comfortable." Together, they sorted through the choices. Zhen picked a charcoal tunic and brown trousers, to which Qua added a grey coat, while Mi-Rane suggested a cloak in deep forest green.

"For travel," she said.

"It won't show dirt." They assembled several complete outfits, practical and durable.

"But," Qua said, lifting one of the simpler embroidered robes, "you should take at least one of these as well. Ideally a few." Zhen shook his head.

"Hear us out. It's better to have something available should you ever need it," Mi-Rane said, "even if you never wear it. Trust me, there will come a moment when you wish you had it." Zhen looked between them, then at the robe. Finally, he nodded. Mi-Rane clapped her hands together.

"Excellent. Now, measurements." She produced a length of cord marked with notches and set to work with brisk efficiency, calling out numbers Qua recorded on a small tablet. She measured everything, her fingers quick and sure.

"Perfect." She gathered the cord.

"I'll have one of your outfits ready within the hour. The rest will be finished before you leave." She plucked the tablet from Qua's hand and slung a selection of clothes over her arm as she swept toward the door. Then she paused and glanced back with a grin.

"Good choices, Master Tie. They suit you." As she left, Qua gestured toward the main room.

"If you would, Master Tie." Zhen followed, then stopped short. That was becoming something of a habit in this place. A team of servants waited in a semicircle, their hands folded, and their faces polite. In the center of the room, a chair had appeared, unlike anything he had seen before, high-backed, cushioned, with an angled footrest that could slide forward.

"Please," Qua said, gesturing to it. Zhen lowered himself onto the seat. The moment he settled, Qua tipped the chair back with a smooth motion. Zhen's stomach lurched as he found himself suddenly reclining, staring up at the ceiling.

"While the clothes were negotiable," Qua said, his tone gentle but firm, "this is not." Before Zhen could protest, the team moved in. Someone spread cool salves across the last burns before wrapping them in bandages. Hands tilted his head as scissors clicked near his ears. Others lifted his hands and feet, trimming and buffing his nails, then turning their attention to his calluses. A woman worked at his teeth with a small metal tool. Someone cleaned his ears, then his nose. It was overwhelming.

Too many people, too many hands, all moving at once. Zhen forced himself to use Elementary Pulse to control his breathing and let them work. Eventually, they stepped back. Qua appeared at his side, tipping the chair upright.

"See? You survived." Zhen stood slowly, his skin still tingling from the salves. But as he lifted his hands, a sudden lump formed in his throat. The thick, rigid calluses he had earned over a decade of swinging a hammer next to his father were gone. He could earn them back, of course. As a cultivator, he might not even need them anymore. But right now, looking at his softened palms, they were no longer the hands of a blacksmith.

Back in the bedroom, Mi-Rane stood beside the bed, where a charcoal tunic and brown trousers lay spread out. The boots sat on the floor, freshly polished. A simple, knee-length, cultivator-style coat hung on a stand. He could tell it would allow him to move freely.

"All yours, Master Tie." Mi-Rane shut the door as she left. Zhen dressed quickly. The clothes fit him perfectly. Mi-Rane had worked her magic, and despite being entirely practical, the outfit sat between smith and cultivator. He stepped back into the main room. Qua and Mi-Rane looked him up and down.

"Good," Qua said, approval in his tone.

"Now, if you're ready, Mistress Zie is waiting."