Chương 5: Paying the Toll

Hao raced across the Corelands for three days and three nights before Yuchen's stormy qi signature moved on from Plum Blossom Village. Ruminators were ordinarily weak enough that their spiritual presence faded into the background signature, but they'd finally approached the eastern reaches of the Lonely Plains. Every cultivator shone more brightly here. There was little other spiritual power to mask their presence. By mortal standards, the Lonely Plains were verdant, well-populated, and vast.

The flatlands stretched for well over a thousand miles across, though they only made up one tiny corner of the Sunbeam Emperor's vast domain. The Lonely Plains were familiar to Hao, who had traveled across them in his father's caravan as a small boy, learning the basics of cultivation at his father's side. Back then, Hao thought the golden prairies were truly endless, a vast grassy ocean ready to swallow him whole.

Of course, the Lonely Plains were truly famous for being one of the most backwater places in the Empire. Their renown came from a negative, sort of like how every family had at least one drunken idiot who attained a sort of miniature fame, usually for pissing themselves at weddings and vomiting in inappropriate locales.

That was essentially the role the Lonely Plains filled for the rest of the Sunbeam Empire, who could always look at this waste of space and shake their heads, tutting that ' At least we're not Plainsmen'. Even Distillators were considered powerful here! Puny Ruminators reigned as Cultivator-Lords, their awakened spirits unmatched. In other words, the Lonely Plains was a qi desert full of pissants whose ambition ended at ruling over a paltry few million mortals.

Anyone with actual talent stepped out of the little garden and into the great fields of the Corelands to grow in the Emperor's light. Hao's flight westward left the rivers, forests, and valleys of the Corelands growing less frequent, opening up into endless prairies beneath a grand blue sky. He refused to stop until that first flicker of Yuchen's power struck him from hundreds of miles away. Any other Ruminator might've blended into the envrionment, but Hao knew Yuchen's signature like the back of his hand.

Alas, even a Distillator had to rest after a three day run.

"Emperor's Sunny Sack!" Hao wheezed out as he stumbled to a stop, catching himself against the weathered trunk of a massive old elm. He sucked in breath after breath, relishing each swirl of vaporous unrefined qi which brought new strength to his limbs.

"Three days. Sister Fu bought me three days." Not a bad trade, honestly. What was a little thing like a stab wound to a cultivator? The worst part for Sister Fu would be having to hear Yuchen whine and moan the whole time. No doubt the idiot was in a foul mood after losing to Hao. Hao looked inward, measuring the amount of qi still filling his dantian.

He hadn't touched a drop of his precious distilled qi that was necessary to remake his body and ascend to Rumination, but his supply of usable vapor-like unrefined qi was almost exhausted.

"Need a breather," Hao said to himself, still gasping for air. The loneliness of the road began to gnaw at him. He needed to hear another voice, even if it was just his own.

"Don't be stupid, Xiao Hao. Rest a little. Cultivate." Pushing any harder without refilling his reserves would be dangerous. Worse, it would be wasteful. Hao briefly swept out his spiritual perception, relaxing a fraction when nothing reacted. Qi was thinner here in this border region. The farther west one went, the faster qi concentrations plummeted. The Emperor's light only extended so far. Beasts were rarer here than in the true Corelands, but Hao was still just a small fish. Well-armed and well-trained, yes.

Distillators were nothing in the wider world, though. Even relatively weak beasts could be terrible threats if they caught him unawares. Why, he'd never forget that time he had to bribe that enormous spirit bear with—"Fuck!" Hao nearly pissed himself as a horrible shriek heralded the flare of Ruminator-level spiritual pressure. He spun towards the source of that ugly sound with the Cheng Spear raised high. The spear seemed to warm in his hands, sending a jolt through his arm.

He glared at a huge, orange-gold monkey lounging in a nearby tree. It peeled its lips back in a shit-eating grin as it saw how unnerved Hao was.

"A hello would've sufficed." The spirit monkey yawned, reclining back in its cradle of branches. Its eyes gleamed with intelligence. That made it all the worse when the beast lazily gestured down to a pile of stinking dung heaped up at its tree-throne's base. Hao gagged, especially when the monkey mimed throwing a clump of the foul stuff at him.

"I just ran for four hundred miles!" Hao groused.

"Can't I catch a damn break?" The monkey gave him a thumbs down. Bastard. Luckily, the monkey wanted more than just to fuck with him. It paused for a moment to scratch its disturbingly human-like balls, burped as it finished chowing down on a melon which glowed with golden light, and extended its palm, motioning at Hao like a greedy merchant.

"That's more like it," Hao grumbled, relaxing a tad. Spirit beasts were capricious, especially powerful ones like this. He'd rather deal with a greedy beast than a playful one.

"You're just like everyone else, aren't you? You want something for nothing." The monkey cocked its head at Hao, raised the remains of the melon, and effortlessly crushed the rind between its powerful fingers. Just to ensure Hao got the message, the monkey tossed a melon fragment at his head. This could be you, the monkey warned, grinning again. It slurped up a little bit of pulped melon.

"Oh, I see. That ' nothing'I mentioned is more like' not ripping you limb from limb'. Thank you for your generosity, Master Monkey." Hao bowed low, rolling his eyes. The monkey chittered, slapping its furry leg as if the sight of Hao bowing was the most hilarious thing it had ever seen. Maybe being the beast's personal jester was worthy of a small discount?

"Alas, I am but a poor Distillator, practically destitute," Hao lied through his teeth, grateful for the qi-obscuring talismans which warded his pack from prying eyes. It wouldn't stand up against a motivated cultivator, but an idiot beast like this couldn't hope to see past his defenses.

"May I have the privilege of resting here for a moment if I contribute a spirit stone to your magnificent self?" The monkey chittered and raised up five fingers. When Hao hesitated, the beast's other hand reached down for a clump of stinking dung to throw at him.

"Perhaps I could spare two spirit stones for one such as you." The monkey tossed a ball of dung up and down in its hand. Damn it all! Hao hated dealing with spirit beasts. They were all rotten pricks, cowering before their betters and ruthlessly exploiting their lessers. He supposed they were rather human in that regard.

"Three! Please, Master Monkey, it's all I can afford. You wouldn't send this little Distillator on with entirely empty pockets, would you? Tales are told far and wide of your generosity," Hao said, grimacing to himself as he appealed to the monkey's ego. It patted its hairy chest as if saying ' Me?' and grinned.

"Of course! From Sun Wall City to the Golden Capital, stories of your magnanimity are countless. The Mighty Monkey of the West Forest, they call you." The Wildfire churned in Hao's gut, impatient, urging him to just kill this beast and get it all over with. Crush our enemies. Devour their corpses. Make their strength their own. Hao hated how much the Wildfire's impulses reminded him of Master Bolin, but that was a problem for another day.

Right now, he just watched the golden monkey preen, pleased by the utter bullshit that Hao spun for him. It finally nodded, graciously opening its palm again so that Hao could toss three low-grade spirit stones to the beast. The monkey nibbled on each one, nodded happily, and promptly swallowed all three in one giant bite. It burped yet again, waved Hao away, and promptly ignored him as it settled in for a nap to digest its impromptu meal. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

I could just spear it, Hao thought as the monkey snored obnoxiously loud. Skewer it on the Cheng Spear, cook it up, and cut my spirit stones out of its stomach. What does roasted spirit monkey taste like, I wonder? But as annoying as the monkey was, Hao couldn't risk a fight with such a strong opponent. He had another Ruminator to worry about. Instead of taking out his frustrations on the irritating spirit beast, he collapsed onto a fallen log and groaned in relief.

A hard nut bounced off his head, striking with enough force to bruise. The monkey sent a rude gesture his way before returning to its nap. Silence was the rule here. That was fair, Hao supposed. He adopted his cultivation pose and fell into a steady, rhythmic breathing pattern. Wispy unrefined qi swirled into his dantian as he filtered it from the air. The qi wasn't especially thick here, so he refilled his reserves a little more slowly than he would have liked.

It wasn't until the monkey's snores grew louder that Hao relaxed properly. Monkeys tended to be more tricky than cruel, but he wouldn't trust the beast farther than he could throw it. The monkey was strong enough to rule over this little patch of woodland. That said something in the Corelands. Luckily, the Cheng Spear was a potent enough weapon to pierce the monkey's spiritually refined flesh if it came to a fight. Mortal weapons didn't do well against Ruminators, but heavenly jade cut through almost anything.

Hao spared a fraction of his attention towards spinning up a plan to fend the beast off—or kill it—if it turned hostile, though much of his focus remained on cultivating. He couldn't tarry here for long. Master Bolin always insisted on Hao preparing a plan to kill anyone he met. Even Master Bolin himself. Especially Master Bolin himself. That was one teaching that Hao was happy to follow. Set the forest alight. Fill the air with smoke, forcing the beast to expend qi just to survive. My eyes will be unbothered.

When it's choking from flame and smoke, expend a single droplet of distilled qi to rush it. I'll gain more from burning the beast than it'll cost me to kill it… Hao couldn't indulge such thoughts after leaving the Corelands. Condensing distilled qi was expensive here. In the qi-poor Lonely Plains, it was almost impossible. Restoring his unrefined qi would be easy enough, but cultivating in the Lonely Plains was even more an exercise in patience than it was for his spirit.

His father had always laughed at Hao's scrunched up expression when he'd cultivated in the Lonely Plains as their caravan trawled through the prairies. Filtrators—commonly known as the Foundation Stage—could grow well enough in the Lonely Plains, but even Calcinators struggled to advance. A Distillator at Hao's level? No, growth in the Lonely Plains wasn't possible. Not without burning through resources.

Passing through the empty lands would be an exercise in endurance, although he'd push through to richer lands soon enough. Ideally with Yuchen dead along the way. Right now he just needed to cultivate enough to keep moving. Hao pulled a few low-grade spirit stones from his pack and carefully drained the qi from them, refilling his dantian with power far faster than it would've from the ambient qi. Hao's eyes opened as he finished cultivating."

Frugality is the harshest lesson of the Lonely Plains," Hao said slowly, recalling his father's old words. He eyed the monkey, but it seemed truly asleep now, confident in its strength.

"I won't be able to resupply properly. Cities aren't an option. Not unless I want someone to 'liberate the Cheng Spear from an unworthy wielder'." Hao rolled his eyes.

"My only options will be through accepting the kind donations from dead enemies. No new bombs. No new poisons. Just me and my spear." Plus a whole pack full of stolen goods, but that was another thing altogether. Hao couldn't even restockat another sect. Minor sects were usually open to trade with wandering cultivators. You never knew what some uneducated killer with more brawn than brains might stumble across.

Plus, if a sect found out that a visitor had something really valuable, they could just quietly murder the wanderer and take it for free. Such was a time-honored tradition of sects across Sunbeam. That was exactly why Hao's options for resupply were limited. Cities meant cultivators. Cultivators meant danger. What worried Hao most of all was that some sect might even be willing to offer him a place in their ranks—or force him to accept their offer at swordpoint. But what sort of mediocre life was that?

He'd fled the White Rivers Sect, one of the Great Nine of the vast Sunbeam Empire. Why would he settle for some backwater trash who thought Rumination was something impressive? Hao had goals, damnit!

"Rumination is close. So damn close," Hao murmured. He'd need to leave soon, but he wanted to take this moment to plan out his next steps. Rest would be a rare thing as he fled Yuchen. Technically, Hao could ascend to Rumination at any time, but he refused to settle for a faulty foundation. Nothing less than a flawless base would do. He intended to climb the ranks of the immortals. That was one thing that both he and Master Bolin agreed on.

Besides, the White Rivers Sect would laugh their arrogant asses off if a Ruminator came roaring for vengeance. It was like being threatened by a particularly annoying fly with delusions of line-extinguishing. Ascending to Rumination granted cultivators a Distilled Form, a spiritual body generally derived from the Concept that they embraced early in their journey. Hao could advance naturally and adopt a Wildfire Form, for example, which would build upon the foundation that he'd been developing.

Yuchen's Storm Cloud Form was a direct evolution of the Concept he'd absorbed into his spirit. But there were other ways. Other Forms which could be claimed. In Hao's case, only the Sunstruck Dragon Form would do. The Sunbeam Emperor's own body, which he used to break hundreds of mighty sects beneath his heel and forge the Empire. The same cultivator's body which burnt back the horrors of the nightmarish Dark World. Of course, he had to survive the legendary Sun Dragon Trials first.

The Acolytes allowed any to take them, but it was said only the best could hope to make it through the tribulations. Danger didn't frighten Hao. Not after five years of serving beneath Master Bolin. Failure did. What was the point of a mundane life? Where was the glory in settling for anything less than his full potential?

"Time to go," Hao said to himself, rising with a groan. His legs protested, though they already felt much better. His body might not be optimized for endurance, but it did recover quickly thanks to molding himself around the Wildfire. He just needed a little fuel. It would become even easier once he was a Ruminator and shed more of his mortality.

"Many thanks, Master Monkey!" Hao saluted to the snoozing monkey, pausing to relish the vaporous unrefined qi which swirled within his dantian, aching to be used. If unrefined qi was like mist, then the distilled qi which pooled in his dantian was like quicksilver: dense, fluid, and potent. One of the monkey's eyes opened.

"I'll be out of your fur in just a moment," Hao called, bowing once more.

"I've infringed upon your hospitality for long enough." The spirit monkey stretched, yawning, then leered at Hao before glancing down at the dun pile. A grin stretched across its face.

"No need for that. Unless you'd like to throw it at the next cultivator to come by? His name is Cheng Yuchen. He's an utter bastard and hates monkeys. In fact, just the other day he slandered the good name of the Mighty Monkey of the West Forest. Very rude. Something about you fornicating with your own mother, I think…" The monkey shrieked, appalled at the accusation, and jumped up and down in its tree, thrashing its lanky arms.

"That's what I said!" Hao jabbed his finger at the monkey. A thought came to mind. He brandished three more spirit stones for the beast. Its anger was forgotten as it eyed the shimmering jewels hungrily.

"Say, Master Monkey, I believe I can donate a little more of my pitiful fortune to you. Yuchen will follow me here. I'm certain of that. Why don't you greet him properly?" Hao nodded none-too-subtly at the fly-ridden dung pile.

"Throw a few of those his way when he comes by, won't you? You'll avenge your honor and profit a little. Not a bad deal, eh?" The monkey calmed, reclining back as its cunning gaze assessed Hao. It scratched its balls again before finally opening its palm. Hao grinned as he tossed the spirit stones over to the beast.

"Oh, and if you decide to kill him, I'll give you a bonus!" Waste. It was the eternal struggle of the Distillator, the curse that they bore. Refining qi was an expensive, agonizing process even in the Corelands, often requiring years of dedicated effort to bring a Distillator close to Rumination. A good, well-funded Distillator spent five years or so in the Third Stage. Hao had reached its peak in two. Objectively, traveling through the Lonely Plains wouldn't be good for Hao's cultivation. Qi was scarce there.

It would be difficult to draw in enough power to keep himself fueled, let alone prime himself further for Rumination. But ascension wasn't the only way to advance. Power could be shaped, molded into his will. Hao generally relied on only a handful of techniques which had been honed to perfection. But perhaps it was time to add one more to his arsenal.

Killing Yuchen wouldn't come without cost, even if Hao did manage to surround himself with Distillators sturdy enough to survive a clash with one of the Great Nine's prodigies. He'd have to burn distilled qi if he hoped to overwhelm the Ruminator. The Lonely Plains weren't kind to those who acted frivolously. Mortals might find the lands to be a paradise of grain, rice, and good earth, but every cultivator knew the prairies ached to draw out every scrap of power to replenish their empty lands.

He couldn't act without intention. Utilizing his stockpile of distilled qi briefly granted Hao the strength of a Ruminator. Very briefly. Weeks of hoarding power burnt away in seconds. It was a harsh trade, but one with the potential of evening the scales between Hao and mighty opponents like Yuchen. In many ways, burning distilled qi reminded Hao of the steep price imposed by using the Transient Burning Leaf: explosive, fleeting power in exchange for precious lifeblood… As he ran, Hao thought. Hao planned.

And Hao created. Next time, Yuchen wouldn't know what hit him.