Chương 58: Chapter 5- Refusing The Toast

Tian slept in, ate a filling breakfast of soy milk and steamed buns, then realized he was jammed. He wanted to get better tea, but the only places he could think of where you could get 'better' than what you already had were the warehouses and the crafters. Quartermaster Wu was finishing her shift at the warehouse, so he couldn't go there to get the tea. But as far as he knew, the crafters didn't craft tea. Tea was a leaf, usually. He crouched in a corner, drawing circles on the ground while he thought.

There were lots of different kinds of tea. Brother Fu had explained in a lot of detail. And it wasn't like the leaves were just plucked and dried. There were lots of ways of treating them, which could make different flavors. That sounded kind of like crafting. It was the best he could come up with. And he had a good relationship with one of the crafters. Senior Li Xiuning might not be the pillar of the crafters at Depot 4, but she was capable.

Her capability meant she had a lot of requests beyond her usual duties, and that meant she did a lot of trading. Best of all, she never wanted to drink tea. She would, however, often let Tian accompany her while she drank wine.

"Senior, how good to see you. And may I say you look charming this morning?"

"Your Senior Brothers taught you to say that, and you are saying that because you want something for me." For some reason Tian could never figure out, she got irritated when he used the phrases his brothers gave him. He didn't know why. He used them to be polite. It worked most of the time on most people.

"Yes, Senior. But not for free. I suspect I will be wildly overpaying." That brightened her eyes, bloodshot and underlined with a wagon-train full of baggage as they were. She had little wrinkles around the corners of her eyes. Her hair was still black and shiny, but he could see her hands starting to thin, the skin loosening, the knuckles protruding. She was starting to show her age. She probably didn't have long to live. Comparatively. But then, who did?

"Say more about this overpaying thing. I've been feeling underappreciated."

"Did someone happen to pay for something recently with high quality tea, by any chance?" Sister Li gave Tian an odd look.

"Not recently, but I did get half a pound of Autumn Fire tea leaves a while back, and they have been sitting in my storage ring ever since. They should still be fresh in their box. Why?"

"What do you think of this jar of wine?" She grabbed it and carefully looked it over.

"I think it's worth more than half a pound of Autumn Fire tea, and that's good tea."

"Good wine?"

"Lousy wine. But expensive." Tian blinked. For him, to the extent that he understood the value of things as measured in currency, good equalled expensive, lousy equalled cheap.

"I don't understand, Senior Sister." She tapped the label.

"I'm guessing you looted this off a Heretic."

"Yes, Senior.

"So you know these heretics you have been killing are all working for Black Iron Gorge, one way or another, right?" Tian nodded.

"This was made in Black Iron Gorge. Which, from what I have heard, is a chasm more than a mile deep, and lined with all kinds of shops and homes and everything you would need to create a livable city for heretical cultivators. Most especially water. They have a massive desalination operation there, processing the water from brine wells. And do you know the other thing you get from a brine well?" Tian shook his head.

"Salt. They are a very, very rich city. Nobody ever said anything to me, but there are definitely above Heavenly Person Level figures holding down the fort there. It's become a massive trade center. Salt and slaves are the two most obvious markets but there are so many more. Herbs, insects, strange metals, all sorts of natural treasures, innumerable weapons and armors, all the spells and arts that Heretics accumulate raiding, all going through the markets and stores of Black Iron Gorge.

It is functionally the trade hub for not only the wasteland, but a lot of the surrounding countries. If you have enough strength, and no conscience, it would be hard not to earn a fortune there." Tian's eyes widened. He wondered how heretics could stand up to the combined forces of several sects. It turns out the answer was "Money."

"Then why are all the heretics so broke?"

"You think you can live under the protection of such glorious existences for free?" Sister Li's laugh would have given Grandpa Jun a run for his throne in the nastiness department.

"Taxes, fees, costs to rent a room to sleep or a stall in a market, costs to rent a storefront. Costs of food, of raw materials, of skilled labor that you can trust without direct and constant supervision. Endless expenses. They are out here fighting us because they are broke! The rich heretics are in the city or traveling by caravan. Or by sky barge, unpleasant though that thought is."

"So… why is the wine expensive?"

"You see much rice growing in the desert?"

"None, Senior Sister."

"Do you know how much rice and clean water it takes to make a jar of wine?"

"I do not, Senior Sister. A lot?" Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"Recipes vary wildly, but before distillation, it would be about six pounds of rice per gallon of base wine. Then you would evaporate more water out of the base wine, concentrating the alcohol. So a jug like this? Eighteen pounds of rice? Maybe more? Then include all the water needed to steam the rice. It's all imported rice, obviously."

"Expensive wine."

"Yep. And the water tastes lousy in Black Iron Gorge. So it's bad wine, but very, very expensive. Earthly realm heretics use it as a status symbol. Whoever you killed was probably going to offer it to someone as a gift or a bribe." Tian felt a little internal stab. That was exactly how he had intended to use it.

"Look, the label is a talisman, guaranteeing it's authenticity and that it hasn't been opened yet. Bribe."

"Well. Even if you don't want to drink it, would you trade for it?"

Tian brewed the Autumn Fire tea gingerly. He didn't know how to brew it, and Sister Li hadn't known either. Quartermaster Wu's office was surprisingly snug, filled with shelves full of ledgers and made habitable only with two hard chairs and a wide desk. The only examples of the luxuries permitted by her station were the two intensely plush pale green cushions on the chairs. The softness of the cushions seemed to match well with the scent of the tea leaves waiting for the water.

"It's a red tea, so it can probably stand up to hotter water than green tea, but other than that, I have no advice." Quartermaster Wu smiled. It was somewhat endearing seeing a plain looking child fussing over his tea set, especially since he was so sincere about everything. It was comforting to know the traditions of the West Town Outer Court that made her continue on to a new generation.

"I'm sorry, Martial Aunt. I was supposed to study red teas with Senior Brother Fu, but we were still on white and green teas when we left West Town."

"Hmm. I think at this point you can call me Auntie Wu. Martial Aunt gets tiresome to hear over and over again." Tian's eyebrows shot up. This was not a small change in relationship. It was entirely welcome, though.

"Auntie Wu!" He stood and bowed. She chuckled and waved him back to the kettle.

"Glad though I am to talk to you, I don't think you came looking for me in the middle of the night for a cup of tea. What's troubling you?"

"What do you do when a brother isn't a brother?" Auntie Wu sighed.

"Let's wait for the tea." …

"There is no right answer. Sorry. It's depressingly common, and it gets worse when you reach the Heavenly Person level. Remember our conversation about adventuring?" Tian had laid out everything that happened. It never occurred to him not to.

"Yes, Auntie Wu. At the Heavenly Person level, progression is tied to adventure, particularly getting to the next realm."

"It's a bit more complicated in practice, but that's the gist of it. Well, if two people both believe that their path to immortality hinges on the Wave Cutting Saber forged five thousand years ago by the blind swordsmith Nine Thunder Pei, they aren't likely to have an amicable discussion about who would benefit the most and how the other can be reasonably compensated." Tian nodded.

"How much is cutting someone's path to immortality worth?"

"Right. So while Heavenly Person cultivators seem calmer than Level Ten cultivators, that's only until benefits are involved. And it seems this… Sima… is both humiliated and without his benefits." She raised a hand, stopping Tian from speaking.

"Yes, his benefits. The meat was already in his mouth. How could he let a little mouse yank it away from him? He won't wait."

"Pardon?"

"Your next trip out, or the one after, or the one after that. Anyway, it will be soon. He won't make his move inside the base, because he'd never escape. But once you are in the Wasteland? He will be waiting. And he will kill you. If he is more hungry for benefits, he will kill you from ambush. If he wants revenge, he will cripple you first, then make you wish for death." Tian stared into his tea cup. He had been hoping for reassurance.

"Stick with large groups. Don't take any missions outside in groups of less than twenty, and don't take any missions with him in it. Have a word with the Mission Hall and explain that, for personal reasons, you don't want to go on any missions with him. Hell, say there was an argument over loot, that's common enough. Then offer them some spirit crystals. How much do you have?"

"I've saved forty." Auntie Wu choked on her own spit.

"Forty! Are you eating them or something? I thought you would have a few hundred!"

"How is that possible? The missions don't pay anything like that much." He had looted more, of course, but constant investment in tea, wine and snacks did add up. Everything had to be flown in, so it was all dreadfully expensive.

"You work in the hospital. At the very least you could be collecting tips, shuttling things to patients, letting friends visit after hours, that kind of thing, even if you weren't skimming supplies." Tian looked scandalized.

"I would never!" Auntie Wu covered her face, laughing softly.

"But you would murder this Sima fellow."

"It's not murder if it's self defense, Auntie. At least that's what some of the books say."

"Semantics. You will try to kill Sima Yu if you think you can do it safely."

"Yes."

"No problem looting bodies."

"Why would that be a problem?"

"Handling corpses?"

"No, that's pretty normal, I think."

"Would you rob someone to feed yourself?"

"Of course."

"Kill someone to feed yourself?" Tian hesitated.

"It would probably depend on the circumstances. A heretic, sure."

"At least you are honest, in your fashion. So why wouldn't you stoop to earning a little extra income at your job?"

"Because then I wouldn't be doing my job, Auntie Wu. And if I don't do my job, good brothers and sisters will die. And I'd rather be poor than live knowing I did that. If I am poor. Because I don't feel poor." He didn't mention that he knew doing such a thing would disappoint Brother Fu and Elder Rui deeply. Tian would do almost anything to avoid that.

"You are only slightly richer than the brokest Earthly Realm heretics you are hunting. You are poor. It's hard to get far when you don't have money paving the way. Gathering wealth and resources is a core part of your growth, especially at higher levels." She sighed.

"Got any wine?"

"A few jugs, yes."

"Call it a gift to whoever is on duty at the Mission hall. Some wine, and all your spirit crystals. If you really have to, drop my name. But don't unless you really, really have to. There are politics involved, and you are already in the middle of one mess. You don't want to be in the middle of another. I think you know why asking me to make a move is useless." Tian nodded. He would do that. Neither of them mentioned that it wasn't really a solution. Neither was having Auntie Wu warn Sima.

The deterrence of the Inner Court only went so far, and it wasn't far at all in the Wasteland. Dragging things out wasn't a bad idea. People died every day on patrol. One day, it might well be Sima's turn. Tian smiled slightly to himself. Auntie Wu hadn't discouraged him from killing Sima. He just needed to make the right opportunity.