Chapter 34

Fu Yilan had started doubting her choice to travel with the merchants. There had been no bandit attacks, no wild animals challenging them, nor any excitement in the small villages along their route. All that kept her with them were the alpacas, Devourer and Endbringer, that carried their wares, jumping around joyfully when the load was removed, yet returning dutifully as soon as they were set to leave. Apparently, their breeder had found it amusing to give the cutest of creatures the most menacing names.

In the first town they’d reached, Fu Yilan had bought basic beige clothes hiding her figure and used those to sleep with the animals. They quickly got used to the soft human snuggling up to them and their humming when being petted never failed to put a smile on her face. Still, everything in between was boring, despite the view. It was shocking that even its beauty was unable to make time pass quicker.

Yet when they turned the final bend and finally laid eyes on the city that had been their goal, all thoughts of doubt fled her mind. The goal was only as great as the struggle needed to reach it. Despite her excitement, she schooled her reaction, only jumping from joy in her mind. She was among people and a proper young lady after all. Her umbrella sat above her head, keeping herself in the shade, while also letting her look quite a bit more like an honored wandering cultivator, in her humble opinion. And that was all that mattered.

The final stretch gave Fu Yilan more than enough time to appreciate the marvel they were walking towards, every step closer uncovering more wonders. It was a city, built upon two large, eerily flat plateaus. Closest to the larger mountain a castle stood, stone walls painted red making it seem like the mountain was bleeding from afar. Splitgorge City was a city atop two plateaus of neighboring mountains of similar height, connected by two massive bridges. Made from solid stone, they felt powerful and ancient, as though they had been there before the city was founded and would still be there afterwards.

Yet there was so much more to see. Space was limited on top, despite the tall houses. Building along the mountain wall upwards didn’t seem allowed, so the people built downwards, digging caves into the mountain while mounting wooden walkways and huts on the side of the mountain. Smaller walkways were fastened to the two large bridges with bamboo, creating several layers of walkable area below the official buildings. Despite being smaller than Greenverge City, it was entirely new. The style of buildings used rounded edges a lot that posed less resistance to the mountain’s wind. Fu Yilan wondered how those wooden and bamboo constructs beneath the bridges survived storms, before her attention was ripped away again.

A man laid on the side of the road, a club still gripped in his cold, dead hand. Two arrows stuck in his back. The breeze picked up, cold air cutting through the otherwise pleasant temperature.

“So, it’s started, huh?” Fu Yilan looked over at Caravan Leader Cheng. Some of the color had drained from his face, but he stood tall. It seemed like their destination wouldn’t change.

“What has?” she asked curiously, an undercurrent of worry going along with her statement.

“It’s the large merchant companies. They fight for market share, literally. We don’t have a central kingdom here in the Thousand Sheared-Off Mountains. Every city is run independently, a loose net of alliances assuring that trade flows freely. That means, that these cities-spanning companies have more power here than they should. The council is bribed by the companies, making sure that the city guard is forced to ignore all but the most egregious fights and killings. I’m not clear on the details, but I know that this has been brewing for a while now. I just hope my family is doing alright.”

“Is there no sect or anything to keep order though? I passed through Greenverge City, and they had several cultivator patrols walking around.” Fu Yilan was confused. It didn’t seem like this should be allowed. The caravan leader just sighed.

“I’m sure enough money flows up to them that they don’t really care. Sometimes they pass through, robes pristine. The look they give us regular people is similar to the look I would give an ant. I hope you understand that this is in no way meant to attack you.” She nodded her head. It made sense, judging from the people she had seen and met amongst cultivators. She herself even thought of mortals as weak, fragile beings. Fu Yilan did not like finding similarities with her own and their thoughts.

“It seems like no cultivator battles have been occurring though, at least. Then the sects would have to step in though, so that’s probably what’s been keeping them away. Not that they have many available to them in the first place.”

Fu Yilan had to reconsider the might and wealth of the brothel she’d escaped in Greenverge city. He’d had several cultivators under his control, working for him. Sometimes, cultivators that were stuck at their stage and had given up hope of advancing used their strength to get well-paying jobs in large companies as guards or mercenaries. Mostly, however, they stayed in their sects, hoping for the fateful encounter that would allow them to continue moving up in the world.

Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t even tried finding the source of the slave trader’s cultivation. It was not that unlikely though that someone frequenting those circles had a way of getting access to demonic arts. Not a shred of regret lingered about how she caused their end. She hated how they felt justified in taking innocent lives for profit, selling them off.

Again, Fu Yilan wished for the reassuring weight of her soft sword around her waist. It would be the first thing she’d do in the city, buying one. After all, she had quite a large sum of spirit stones that sat unused in the spatial pouch, not granting the security her blade would bring. At the same time, she was excited to test how her body’s sensitivity increase would help her improve her swordsmanship.

“What’s keeping the sect from just taking over the city? Instead of getting paid off, they’d be able to grab a much larger part of the money.” Caravan Leader Cheng thought for a minute. It seemed like he hadn’t yet considered the question and was unable to come up with a satisfactory answer.

“I’m truly not sure. I’m unable to glimpse into the minds of cultivators. Maybe they see it as below them. Though I feel like they should.” He took another pause, thinking some more. “This is a dangerous question. My intuition as a merchant tells me not to dig further along those lines, so I’ll recommend the same to you. We’re missing part of the puzzle, and I think finding out is accompanied by serious danger.” They walked in silence until they reached the city gates.

Fu Yilan kept her hand on Devourer, his warm, hazel fur was soft and soothing as the large mountain stone blocks making up the wall loomed above them. Carvings of battles long past had been hewn into the walls at some point, but they were so faded that one couldn’t properly make out what was happening in them any longer.

The first thing she needed was a new sword. Next thing was to satisfy the desires burning within her. When they walked under the massive stone gate, they split up. They said their goodbyes, all having a family of their own to visit. Fu Yilan watched them disappear into the crowded streets, slightly wistful staring at their departing backs. Caravan Leader Cheng had told her where to find the smith district, and if nothing there caught her eye, where the disciples of the Golden Fang Sect stayed.

They had been the first true companions she felt she’d had in a long while, yet they were mortal, while she was cultivating immortality. Maybe an earlier goodbye was what she needed, before she got any more attached.

Back straight, Fu Yilan checked with all of the smiths in town, yet they were all only mortal. None of them could produce a blade the quality she needed it to be, to say nothing of qi conductivity and other aspects she knew nothing of that would make a blade great.

Fu Yilan sighed. Her back was no longer quite as straight. Coming out of the eighth smithy, she felt slightly drained. It wasn’t the bodily exertion but instead the repeated disappointment after hoping to finally get a blade she liked. When she’d seen the city’s size, she’d been sure that she would find what she was looking for easily. Now, her last hope was with the local disciples.

She hadn’t wanted to interact with the Golden Fang Sect if possible, but it seemed like there wasn’t much she could do. An impulse made Fu Yilan want to hide her cultivation levels, playing as a first stage cultivator, but it might actually be counterproductive. Brushing her hair back in a strict ponytail, only a few strands framing her beautiful face, she made her way closer to the sect’s houses in the city.

The main road had Fu Yilan walking towards the city’s castle, countless people shoving in both directions while eateries and fancy mortal stores lined the sides. Not just once did Fu Yilan stop and stare at a displayed outfit or some jewelry, but she could tell that the quality was clearly beneath cultivator-made products. The dress she’d commissioned in the sect what felt like an eternity ago outshone those portrayed in both silk quality, as well as craftsmanship. So, every time when a still mortal aspect of her mind was captivated by something, it never actually held up under a cultivator’s scrutiny.

She did take the chance to enter one of their changing rooms though and put her sect-tailored garments back on, deciding that they would make a better first impression than her plain garments she’d worn while travelling with the merchants.

Fu Yilan walked along the flat road paved with a pleasant to look at light-grey stone. It was odd, being so high up in the mountains, yet not seeing any elevation along the path. Truly as though some ancient immortal had made these mountains flat.

The sect had its own walled compound. Even up here in the wealthy part of the city, there was a difference between the quality of the building, especially when placed side by side. Regular mortals may not notice, but the intent behind the decorations, the paint, the structure, could be felt.

“Hello esteemed cultivator of the Golden Fang Sect.” A bored guard at the second stage stood a bit straighter as the beautiful, powerful cultivator spoke to him in a voice that seemed  sweeter than honey, pulling his attention towards her. His eyes naturally jumped between her cleavage and her face, which were both wonderful to look at. “I wish to purchase a weapon from your sect. Could you please show me to whomever I would have to converse with regarding the topic?”

Fu Yilan smiled and batted her eyelashes at the man completely caught in her voice art. Her mouth and throat had become more sensitive, and she felt like that additional feeling might have allowed her to up the potency. Not that it would have been necessary. He would have been at her feet without the increased sensitivity. The Primal Pulling Melody was doing its job nicely, and Fu Yilan didn’t mind the power she had over men with her looks. Especially in the male-dominated world of cultivation, it was incredibly valuable. Though maybe it only felt this good because she was in control power-wise as well.

“Of course, honored wandering cultivator. Surely, our great sect will have exactly what you’re looking for. I will lead you to our weapons master myself!” Fu Yilan smiled. He was making his shoulders seem a little wider.

“I am very thankful of that. Please, lead the way.”