Sky Pride

Chapter 22- A Peaceful Life of Cultivation

“So you grow the Red Heartline Grass in rows for easy reaping, but the Coldeye Flowers need to be grown in an array with these other plants?” Tian asked.

“Yes! Well, no, you could kind of grow it by itself or spaced out in rows or something, with enough soil amendments and regularly applying supplements. But it grows much better and much more productively if you grow it in a sect.”

Tian blinked and looked over at the suddenly awkward Daoist Shu. She was blushing and looking away. Why, he didn’t know.

“A sect, Daoist Shu?”

“It’s just what we call it. There are plants that grow better together. Get the light and temperature right, make sure they are oriented properly, the water is right, all that stuff, and once things are planted, they support each other. How to make these… groups of plants… is one of the ancestral teachings of the sect.”

Tian squatted down in the dirt, temporarily ignoring the rest of the tour group. “May I touch it? I will be very gentle.”

“What? Oh. Yes. Yes, please!”

“Sister Liren and Brother Wang are snickering again. Clearly she is saying something funny, but for the life of me, I have no idea what it could be. I should ask later.”

He slowly ran his finger along the stem of the tall Coldeye Flowers. The leaves had been carefully pruned, leaving only an upper story of their delicate four lobed limbs to catch the sun. Tiny buds clustered in their dozens, waiting for the last week or so to pass before they could burst into bloom.

He could feel the wood qi flowing through the plants. The way they seemed to breathe together and harmonized the five elements together as one. It wasn’t as crude as “This flower has that kind of elemental qi, this vine has another,” everything had a bit of everything in it. The effect of the “sect” array was happening on so many layers he was bewildered. Everything from shade and moisture control to the composition of the soil, to attracting beneficial insects. Every plant was contributing and maintaining the overall balance.

“Beautiful. Really beautiful. You can feel them thriving together. I’ve never seen anything related to growing things that remotely matches this. Nothing even a little bit close. What an incredible thing you are doing, Daoist Shu.” Tian honestly praised the work. It was a revelation. It made complete sense, of course. You saw plants and animals cooperating in nature all the time. But to deliberately make such a system in your garden, not for just one or two plants but dozens of varieties?

“Well, I spend all my time working in the garden and it’s satisfying to see everything growing together and you sort of go cross-eyed reading in the library so it just makes sense to get out in the dirt and get your hands dirty. Oh Heavens, are my hands dirty?!”

“Easy, Sister Shu, easy.” One of her older sect siblings patted her shoulder. “Maybe our guests would like to see the medicine halls next?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Tian bowed apologetically. They had been standing around in the field for a while now. He had no urge to be a gardener or a farmer, but it was fun learning something from someone who really loved their craft.

The rest of the tour was pretty interesting too, with the drying sheds, the specialty grinding tools, ovens with such precise temperature controls that Tian genuinely couldn’t sense the difference in temperature.

The disciple operating the oven pulled out two stalks of grass, seemingly identical. He put one in and, two minutes later, it came out as unusable ash. The disciple then showed Tian the control array, and with a single finger, shifted a talismanic character fractionally left. Then they put the other stalk of grass in.

Two minutes later, the grass was fragrant and ready to be ground into powder for compounding. Tian had no idea how it worked, but he was impressed regardless.

“Tsk! Why have I never seen anything so useful in our sect?” He muttered.

“Because we live in West Town Outer Court, and our martial siblings treat making anything more complicated than a fist as darkest witchcraft.” Hong’s voice was as dry as the roasted herb.

Tian’s instinct was to defend his beloved temple, but paused with his finger in the air. Then he sighed and retracted the finger. “Fair. The brothers all had hobbies and things, but other than maybe Brother Wong, I don’t think I ever saw anybody craft anything. I certainly don’t know how to craft anything.”

In other company, he would say he knew a little about making medicinal teas and the like. At the moment, he would sooner be beaten to death than display his slight skills.

“I’d tease you about that, but I don’t either.” Hong muttered.

“You don’t study a craft?” One of the older disciples of the Bamboo Medicine Hut asked. From his tone of voice, it sounded like he couldn’t imagine anything so strange. “Well, I suppose you are studying to become a doctor, Daoist Tian.”

“Actually, it’s pretty common in our sect.” Brother Wang shook his head, big hands spread wide and helpless to make something useful of themselves. “Anyone with an interest in crafting gets streamed into a crafting-focused temple or convent early. Same with making formation arrays, or divination, or any other specialized skill.”

That was the first Tian had heard of it. But then, he had never asked, had he? And thinking back, Brother Wong’s medicine hut was pretty basic. Herbs drying on a string and ground with a mortar and pestle, weighed on a brass scale. Nothing at all like the immaculately clean stone top work benches at the Bamboo Medicine Hut, each equipped with arcane devices he couldn’t identify.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“So you just work as an orderly all day?” Sister Shu asked Tian. He sighed internally. It’s not that he minded answering, but she kept asking him all her questions. There were four other people here. Spread them around!

“Working as an orderly, studying, cultivating, training, meditating, my tea circuit, more training, more studying…” He smiled. It was a fulfilling life, most days. Even if it was starting to make him feel smothered.

“Tea circuit?” One of their hosts asked.

“Brother Tian is notorious for turning up with tea and snacks.” Sister Su nodded calmly. “Though complaints have been recorded about the excessive frugality of both the snacks and the tea leaves.”

“Frugality is a virtue, and rice crackers are a lovely complement for tea!” Tian knew his methods were righteous. “Although I’ll admit good tea is both more expensive and harder to come by than I might wish. Entire categories of tea are simply not available in the Redstone Wastes.”

Green tea, the really good kind that was picked in the first week or two of the growing season, was rarely fresh enough to be properly enjoyed by the time it reached the wastes. Yellow and black dragon teas were by far the most common, with red in a distant third place. Even Brother Long was helpless, as the distances were just too far to cover in a timely way without a sky barge coming directly from the source.

“We have some tea trees here!” Disciple Shu said. “Would you like to try our tea? Our tea producing master is pretty great, if you will forgive my boasting.”

Tian looked at the others, and got a variety of nods and smirks. He smiled and cupped his hands towards Disciple Shu. Some tea sounded wonderful.

One of the senior disciples led the party over to a pavilion near the river. Tea sets were brought out and Tian was startled to see they were considerably more elaborate than his own. Instead of a lidded cup, they used a big tea pot like the soldiers had. Only, rather than being made of steel, the disciples of the Bamboo Medicine Hut favored hammered silver, decorated with swaying grass engraved along the base and inlaid with aged brass. The handle was a warm yellow bamboo stem, curved to fit a hand just right.

Tian envied their tea pot immensely, even if he felt smugly morally superior for his humble lidded cup.

Perhaps a compromise could be reached. Was it still frugal if he stole the tea pot? Probably not. But maybe?

There was also a little wooden vase with odd wooden implements sticking out of it set on the tray. A pokey stick, a scoop, a pair of tongs, even the wide mouthed funnel-top of the vase appeared to be detachable from the body.

Tian soon learned that the formal tea making he had come to love was considered quite… crude.

The first thing he noticed was that the older disciple making the tea never touched it with his hands. The tea leaves were scraped out of the jar and onto a little plate with one of the wooden tools. The plate was then passed around for the leaves to be admired and smelled. As that was happening, he took the kettle and splashed hot water over the cups, the pitcher and the tray. But not like Tian would. Each implement was cleaned in what was clearly a ritual order and manner.

Key to the operation were the tongs. The cups were moved and emptied with the tongs, the pitcher was moved with the tongs, everything was a tong-based operation. Tian more or less understood. The host was showing hospitality by ensuring nothing that his guests would touch or drink was touched by his hands without being purified with boiling water. A rather cold approach, in some regards, but he could see the warm intentions underneath.

He toasted the hosts and took a long slip. Only the rigid training of Brother Fu on the subject of decorum stopped his head from snapping back and his fist from smashing into the table.

“Good tea!”

It really was too- an aged white tea, combining plenty of buds with the first leaves of the season and then properly withered and dried. It had the usual sweetness of a white tea- the floral, fruity aroma that was so delightful, but there was a medical taste to it. Not a bad taste, simply deeper and more complex, with a touch of astringency and an aroma that was no longer asking for your appreciation. It demanded it.

“Haha! The mortals around here have a saying- ‘Three years for tea, seven years for a treasure, ten years for medicine.’ But we age our White Eyebrows Longevity Tea for fifty!” One of their hosts boasted.

“My heavens. Brother Tian, have you been serving us grass clippings?” Sister Su muttered.

“I’m starting to wonder about that myself. It’s not like I’m cheaping out, or I didn’t think I was. Auntie Wu scolded me for spending too much of my earnings on tea and gifts.” He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ah, this really isn’t too expensive. Us juniors can’t get our hands on the really ancient tea. I think we are selling it for fifteen spirit stones a quarter pound?” One of the hosts looked around for confirmation, and got nods from the others.

The Cloud Grace Peak tea that Brother Long had gifted Tian was three spirit stones a quarter pound. At the time, he had thought it shockingly expensive. It seems he had too limited a vision.

Brother Long had taken hours to die, betrayed by his own kingdom and his own sect. Though doubtless the kingdom and the sect wouldn’t see it that way. But Tian did. It snapped into place with a shocking immediacy, a thousand little brushes of ink gathered everywhere which merged into a picture you didn’t know you were assembling.

They had been betrayed. The servant disciples had been betrayed, and some of them had even sold themselves, never acknowledging they had done it. Did his go-playing onetime brother know? He always sneered at the merchant life, wanting to focus on being a gentleman scholar. Did he watch the wave of heretics come crashing through the defenses and think about how his family had profited from this? How they helped make it happen?

“Oh, Brother Jun! Brother Ho! Come on over!” One of his hosts was yelling to someone, but Tian couldn’t pay attention to that, he was back in the desert, back at Depot Four, trying to carve his way through the battlefield to the hospital. Killing salt-monsters that fed on the blood of the Kingdom’s people on so many levels.

He didn’t give a damn about the Broad Sky Kingdom, and he was still sickened by the thought. His hand started shaking. He managed to carefully lower the cup to the table without breaking it.

“Cousin Lin, is that you?”

“Mmm. Cousin Jun, it’s been a long time.” Lin sounded polite, but Tian only listened with half an ear. The shock at her ability to speak like an actual human being couldn’t quite break through all the other shocks.

The mood was lively, Brother Wong and Lin leading the noise, with the others jumping in from time to time. It was just Tian who stayed seated when everyone rose to greet the newcomers. He didn’t know he was sitting there. He was lost in the war in his mind and sickened with the guilt of a peaceful life.