Chương 39: Lìchūn: Connection 4

Liu Yinhua looks first to Tang Mingxia, whose face gives very little away. That is its own answer, after several weeks of living in the same house. Wu Cailan glances between them, then at the Crimson Wastes group waiting near the door, her mouth tugging to one side as if the whole room has become a distasteful find on the bottom of her sandals.

"Go," Tang Mingxia says, gathering her notes.

"Take care not to agree to anything just yet." Duan Xueheng hears that. His mouth curves.

"Terrible. There goes our whole plan." Tang Mingxia looks at him once, coolly enough that even Wu Cailan seems to have issue hiding her grin. Liu Yinhua tucks her brush into its roll and rises.

"I will come back before evening meal."

"You had better," Wu Cailan says.

"If Tang Mingxia starts explaining regional politics at me again because you are gone, I am blaming you." Tang Mingxia closes her eyes briefly.

"You asked who the Ximeng were."

"I asked why everyone was acting strange about the pale boy," Wu Cailan bites back, and Tang Mingxia merely turns up her nose at it, focusing back on Liu Yinhua. Wu Cailan makes a rude face at her back. Xie Lianqiu watches the exchange with open interest, but does not interrupt. Chi Yanluo waits a little behind her, straight-backed, patient in the manner of someone willing to let small disorder pass if it ends peacefully. Duan Xueheng's gaze moves across the hall as they leave, noting who notices.

Shen Yuanzhou strolls after them with his hands loose at his sides, looking idle enough that Liu Yinhua assumes he is actually paying close attention. They do not go far at first, after Liu Yinhua bids her goodbyes to her housemates. The class hall spills disciples onto the broad stone path, and most of the conversations stay low, fast, and hungry. Guo Meilin is still inside with her circle.

Jiang Wenhao has reached the outer steps and is speaking to three disciples Liu Yinhua recognises only by face, his smile warm enough that it almost hides the way he has placed himself between them and the main path. Ximeng Dai is gone already. Xie Lianqiu leads them toward the smaller training yard behind the east storehouse, the one they have used before when the main field is crowded and Elder Huan has not claimed the whole mountain for misery.

The yard is tucked between a low wall and a stand of red-barked trees. A practice board leans against the far side, pocked with old cuts and arrow marks. Someone has left a bucket of sand by the wall and a broken staff beside it. The place smells faintly of dust, sun-warmed wood, and the bitter liniment older disciples use after training. No one speaks until they are through the gate.

Then Xie Lianqiu turns, leaning back against one of the posts with her bow still over her shoulder, and says, "This is not an ambush." Shen Yuanzhou looks around the empty yard.

"Poorly arranged, if it is," he says, a cheery grin on his face"You are not helping."

"I am being harmless!" He protests. Duan Xueheng gives him a mild look.

"You are failing," says the boy, cool eyes tinged with something like fondness. Liu Yinhua lets her gaze move between them, then to Chi Yanluo.

"You wanted to talk," she says, deciding she doesn't want to waste time on that. Chi Yanluo nods.

"The trial changes things," he admits, honest and open as always. It should be refreshing, and Liu Yinhua wants it to be refreshing. She finds herself at every turn rebelling at the silk threads that have bound her soul beneath a tapestry, and at every other turn, she sinks deeper into its trappings. Men and danger, women and danger, safety rearing like a cotton snake below a basket, accidentally disturbed.

It is an absurd thought to be having now of all times, so she refocuses, hands settled where they cannot be seen in her sleeves.

"Yes."

"It would be foolish to pretend otherwise. It would also be foolish to make more of this conversation than it is." His hands rest inside his sleeves as well, the posture formal without being stiff.

"This is not a formal offer, none of us are quite there yet." There's a little humour in his eyes with it, for all he remains serious otherwise, and it fades as he continues. Xie Lianqiu's mouth tightens slightly, as if she has been told not to add anything and is suffering in her silence. Chi Yanluo continues.

"But the Crimson Wastes houses are interested in new talent," he says, honest.

"We are a border kingdom, and we face perils that need strong, useful talents. People who can learn quickly, stand under pressure, and understand that a group is more than one strong person with others walking behind him." Liu Yinhua folds her hands into her sleeves.

"And I fit that?" She asks, carefully mild.

"You might," he agrees. Shen Yuanzhou pushes off the wall and wanders toward the practice board, nudging the broken staff aside with one foot.

"You're less fragile than you look, which helps," he adds, quite cheerful in it.

"Thank you," Liu Yinhua says, dryly enough that Xie Lianqiu smiles before smoothing her face.

"You also listen," Duan Xueheng says.

"Many people hear corrections, and think only of pride. You accept fault quite easily, as often as it comes." Liu Yinhua feels her cheeks grow tight, an eyebrow raised.

"It was a compliment," Xie Lianqiu says, looking between them and interjecting before Liu Yinhua can say anything.

"He is being difficult about it, but it is a compliment." Duan Xueheng does not deny it, hands settling in his own sleeves. Chi Yanluo lets the small exchange settle before speaking again.

"The Lower Valley Trial is a useful place to test arrangements before they become heavier," he says, and it reeks of honest sincerity.

"We will need six, Xie Lianqiu wants you with us."

"I do," Xie Lianqiu says, because apparently even her restraint has limits.

"This team is far too male heavy." Chi Yanluo's gaze flicks to her, then back to Liu Yinhua.

"I agree with her," he agrees, with a little pause after.

"Not with the commentary on our team composition, though." The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The training yard is quiet around them. From the main paths, Liu Yinhua can hear distant voices and the clatter of someone moving a handcart over uneven stone. It would be very easy to say yes, which is exactly why she does not.

"Why?"

"Because you are improving quickly," he says.

"Because your movement art gives you more value, and you haven't yet done wrong by us. You are not a powerhouse, but we have enough of those within us already, that we need variety."

"And," Chi Yanluo adds, "because you are not yet claimed." Liu Yinhua lowers her eyes to the packed dirt.

"Not yet claimed is not the same as available," she says, light and diplomatic.

"No," Chi Yanluo says.

"It is not." Shen Yuanzhou glances over, and for once says nothing, for all his cheeks still are a little dusky before his gaze shifts away from hers. Xie Lianqiu's fingers move once against the strap of her bow. Duan Xueheng watches Liu Yinhua with the calm focus he brings to stance work, as if her answer will tell him something useful whether he likes it or not. Chi Yanluo speaks before the silence can become an argument no one has started.

"The Wastes do not take people in by pretending there is no cost. There is always cost," he says.

"If you stand near us, others will read it. Ximeng Dai may not care yet, which is not the same as failing to notice."

"You make a poor recruiter," Liu Yinhua says, even with it.

"I am not recruiting."

"No?" she asks, arching an eyebrow.

"I am merely offering a lay of the land," Chi Yanluo says, shrugging a shoulder. Liu Yinhua finds herself liking the honesty in that, which is inconvenient. Xie Lianqiu shifts from the post at last.

"We are not asking you to put on red and swear blood into a basin," she says, offering a grin. Shen Yuanzhou makes a thoughtful sound, a hand coming to his chin.

"We could arrange the basin," he muses.

"No," Duan Xueheng says, not even looking to his friend.

"It would make the day memorable!" Shen Yuanzhou protests. Duan Xueheng sighs, so quietly that Liu Yinhua almost misses it. Xie Lianqiu ignores them both and keeps her attention on Liu Yinhua.

"We want to see how this works in the field. Us with you, you with us," she says, her voice earnest.

"You have trained with me."

"It is not exactly the same," she points out.

"No," Xie says, conceding the point easily.

"But it is enough to decide whether a trial team is worth trying." Liu Yinhua looks at Chi Yanluo again.

"Who would be the sixth?" For the first time, Chi Yanluo smiles slightly.

"I was thinking perhaps you might know a good crafter or similar who would be interested in aiding us," he admits.

"You do seem quite polite, and you have a better chance of convincing someone than us." She feels her eyebrow almost twitch. Always just too good to be true.

"A task already, and I haven't even agreed," she says.

"Yes, but I think you will," Xie Lianqiu says this time, honest. Liu Yinhua turns her head, avoiding the question by checking the passage of the sun overhead, trying to evaluate what the rough time is and giving her a chance to order her thoughts. The opportunity is a good one, and she will likely be safest with this group, and that Tang Mingxia has already expressed little overt desire for the smaller trials, focusing on an art her uncle had given her before this year began.

Wu Cailan is pursuing the path of crafting, and is most likely not going to attempt this trial. She needs more time to think, and so, she makes time for now.

"The Crimson Wastes," Liu Yinhua says after a moment, testing the words carefully, focusing back on the group.

"You speak of it as more than a place." Xie Lianqiu's expression softens around the edges, not in sadness exactly, but in recognition. Shen Yuanzhou lowers his gaze to the packed earth. Duan Xueheng stops pretending to inspect the practice board. Chi Yanluo considers her for a breath before answering.

"It is more than one place. It is badlands, fortress towns, old roads, sect holdings, clan lands, ravines, beast dens, and farms where farms should not grow. It is also an agreement, when people remember it properly."

"An agreement?"

"That the Wastes do not survive if every house stands alone." Xie Lianqiu takes over, not quickly, but as if adding a thread he has left for her.

"Outsiders talk about us as if we all came from blood and dust and bad tempers, and some of us did. Mostly, the Wastes are full of people whose ancestors went there because someone had to hold the roads."

"Or were sent there," Yuan Shenzhou says.

"Or were sent there," Xie agrees.

"Prisoners, oath-bound soldiers, minor clans out of favour, beast hunters, debt families, border sects, refugees after old wars in the time just after the War of Silver." Chi Yanluo's eyes remain on Liu Yinhua.

"The history of our home is not so clean and easy as the nobles here like to make it," he says.

"They always do," Liu Yinhua says, and thinks of Guo Meilin's pale robes, of Blueglass circles forming with all the softness of silk drawn tight. She thinks of Tang Mingxia's cautions and Wu Cailan's impatience and the way Xie Lianqiu had refused to pretend gratitude was not dangerous. The Crimson Wastes do not sound free of cruelty. Nothing about them sounds gentle. But there is a kind of honesty in the brutality being named as such.

"What would you expect from me?" she asks, after a moment.

"If I would join this trial with you." Chi Yanluo answers without pause.

"Work, training and a lot of it. Contributing to, and following, the team plan during the trial unless circumstances make it impossible."

"And after?" Liu Yinhua asks.

"After, we decide whether it worked," he says, hands shifting in his sleeves. She knows words can be arranged to hide hooks. She has lived too much of her life around people who made art of it. These words may still hide something, and they probably do. But the hook is not in the first layer, and sometimes that is all a person can ask of a beginning. Liu Yinhua draws a slow breath.

"If people ask why I am with you?"

"Training compatibility," Shen Yuanzhou says, offering a grin. Xie Lianqiu smiles at Liu Yinhua, smaller than usual.

"And if anyone asks me, I will say I wanted an archer who can dodge and that I wanted someone prettier to look at than Shen Yuanzhou," she says, light and sweet. Shen Yuanzhou flicks a rock at her, which the dark haired girl neatly dodges by shifting her head just slightly out of the path. The tension eases by a fraction, and Liu Yinhua looks at the practice yard, the old cuts in the board, the broken staff by the sand bucket, the red trees beyond the wall. She had wanted a ladder.

The sect keeps handing her ropes instead, each one tied to another person's wrist.

"I will consider it," she says, after a long moment. Xie Lianqiu's face does not fall, but Liu Yinhua sees the effort behind it. Chi Yanluo only nods, as if that is the answer he expected.

"Good," he says.

"Consider quickly. Others will not wait." Shen Yuanzhou picks up the broken staff at last and spins it once, testing its weight before tossing it into the sand bucket.

"Since we are here, are we training or continuing to stand around like court ladies?" he asks, his grin broadening. Xie Lianqiu looks at Liu Yinhua.

"You do not have to," she says, but the offer in it is clear. She should go home, speak to Tang Mingxia, read the rules again once posted, and think through every implication until the decision becomes either clearer or worse. Instead, she reaches for the plain bow Xie Lianqiu has lent her and steps toward the yard.

"One round," she says, offering a smile Shen Yuanzhou grins.

"One round," Xie Lianqiu agrees, already looking far too pleased as Chi Yanluo moves to the edge of the yard with Shen Yuanzhou, watching as Liu Yinhua checks the string, sets her feet, and draws. The first arrow strikes low, but it strikes the board. The second hits closer. By the third, the conversation has not ended but the air is at least lighter. The next arrow hits dead centre.