Sky Pride

Chapter 17- Necessary Rituals

“This is a death trap!”

“It’s a hot spring complex, Brother Zihao. One with an attached hotel, restaurant, gardens and recreation pavilions. You know the mortals are getting whiffy. They need a bath.”

“Yes. The mortals.” Tian gave Liren a pointed look.

“Oh don’t you start this again! Leaving aside that it’s impossible, do you really think it’s worth it to avoid bathing?”

“I’m just saying if I can do it, everyone can do it. And should. It would be a much less stinky world if they did.” Tian sniffed, looking dubiously at the bath house. He couldn’t help but think the little symbol on the banner looked like steam rising out of a soup pot.

“Do what, Immortal Tian?” Little Treasure asked.

“Turn yourself into soup and rebuild yourself with snake meat and lotuses. A little trick I learned from a wise hermit when I wasn’t that much older than you. Thatʼs why I smell so nice all the time.”

“You really turned yourself into soup?!” Little Treasure’s eyes shot wide open.

“Yes, it’s a bit messy, but once you have gathered enough Three Venoms Seven Deaths Adders and Dustless Lotuses, you’ve done all the tricky stuff. All that’s left is injecting the flesh destroying venom into your limbs and chest, then falling back into a pool of water, crushed snake meat and lotus pulp. Eating the snake gallbladders and lotus seeds first is also a big help. Very good for the eyes and kidneys.” Tian tapped his nose.

Now both of the mortals were staring at him wide eyed.

“It’s not as strange as it sounds.” Tian muttered, lowering the tapping finger and looking back at the bath house. Bath house was an almost comic understatement. It was huge, elegant and exquisite, with more than a dozen immaculately maintained buildings wrapped around gardens so carefully tended, you might think they sprang into existence naturally.

“It is strange. It absolutely is strange. Don’t be fooled. This weirdo has the Dustless Lotus Phisique, but he keeps claiming that he made it by listening to some hobo in the jungle. This, Good Child, is what’s called a lie.” Hong spoke urgently. “Good children do not dissolve themselves in mud pits filled with mashed snakes and pond flowers. Not if they expect to live.”

“Which is why I said this is a death trap. Anyone can turn themselves into soup, it’s just that everyone thinks they can’t, so they don’t turn themselves back into people afterward. And this is clearly a place for making soup of people. For heaven’s sake, look at the sign! They are practically declaring to the world they are cannibals.” Tian was stubborn on this point. If a sickly, half dead child could manage it, then surely anyone could.

Censor Henshen coughed and changed the subject. “I, for one, would appreciate the bath. And a night’s sleep at a… reliable inn. The Northern Beauty Hotsprings complex is somewhat legendary. It was created by the old Wu Kingdom, under Emperor Wudu, building on an even older site from the Sheng dynasty. There are famous poems that feature it, and endless artworks. None of which, I am happy to say, include cannibalism.”

Tian looked over the two and three story buildings, immaculate in their white plaster and red trim. The black tiles on the roofs gleamed under the setting sun. That same sun gave a warm luster to the lush gardens bursting with blue and red blossoms, white puffs of lotuses in green ponds and pavilions painted in red and gold overseeing them all. Each pavilion was placed to admire a pond and its darting koi, or a tall hill, or a fine rock surrounded by lovingly tended flowering trees.

His mouth couldn’t help but twitch. It looked better than the garden on the Windblown Manor. Elder Feng wasn’t a gardener, and Steward Pan had other duties, but it was still funny. A bunch of mortals made, and enjoyed, a nicer garden than an elder of the Ancient Crane Monastery. Maybe the materials weren’t as special, but their arrangement was, simply, better.

He sighed, knowing he was going to lose this argument. “Do they at least have decent tea?”

The etiquette of the bathhouse was bewildering, so Tian resolved to just do whatever the Censor did. They were led to a changing room with tiny closets to hang their robes and leave their weapons. If they wished, the clothes would be laundered, while fresh clothes were laid out for their use after they were done soaking and enjoying the services of the hot springs. Tian just shrugged and nodded.

His non-uniform robes were mortal make. They got pretty dusty and grimy. No force of propriety would see him parted from his weapons, however. As a concession, he hid them in his storage ring. The staff didn’t ask any awkward questions. They were the very soul of hospitality, in fact. The party consisted of an Imperial Censor, a plainly noble child, and two youths who might dress with excessive frugality, but had the casual fearlessness of the true elite.

Besides, while the girl looked like a farmer, the boy had the skin of an imperial concubine. The staff didn’t know they were receiving immortals, but it was the Broadsky Kingdom. A little extra hospitality was never amiss. You never really knew who you were serving.

Censor Henshen insisted on bathing with Little Treasure “family style” and Tian tagged along. He had no clue what that meant, and was curious to see. What it actually was, was the two washing each other. First Henshen poured warm water over Little Treasure, making sure the boy made good use of the soap and washcloth before rinsing him again and carefully washing his hair. Then Little Treasure returned the favor, looking quite comfortable with the whole process.

Tian wasn’t. Not that he truly objected to bathing. He rather enjoyed that just-clean feeling you got after a good scrub. It was Censor Henshen.

The entirety of Censor Henshen’s genitals were gone. There was a little hole left for him to pee out of, a scar, and that was it. He didn’t try to hide it either. It was just who, and how, he was. Tian asked how it came to happen, and the Censor could only shrug and say it was the arrangement of his family, and that the actual process itself was considerably unpleasant. However, thanks to surviving it, and his significant academic achievements, he was able to earn a posting to the Imperial Palace. At an age when most civil servants were suffering through their first rural postings, he was directly serving the Imperial family.

Why he was currently working in a comparatively distant province with a middling rank in the bureaucracy wasn’t explained, and Tian didn’t ask.

Carefully washed and toweled dry, they put on the soft tan robes made from luxurious cotton. They were the first cotton clothes Tian had ever worn, and while they lacked the sheen and smoothness of silk, the cozy breathability of the cloth nearly took his breath away. He immediately understood why cotton was such an expensive luxury. Such a precious material, how could it be common goods?

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They exited the hall where they had been bathing and entered a garden. There were others in fine tan cotton robes walking along the winding pathways, each going to their assigned pool or pavilion. There were frequent admirers of the elegant, almost luminous, white crane wading in one of the ponds, with its striking red face. Tian just rolled her eyes and left her to it. He was hardly going to insist she hop in a hot spring with them.

They ran into Hong looking up at a statue emerging from a fountain in front of an elegant green tiled building. The statue was of a woman, half naked, her robes hanging loosely around her arms. The robe was done in a translucent yellow stone, while the body was carved from alabaster.

There was a quadrain carved into a rock at the base of the fountain, the characters painted a vivid red.

On a cold spring day, he bestowed upon her the honor of bathing with him at the Northern Pools,

The waters of the hot springs were smooth, and washed over her pale white skin.

The palace maids helped her to leave the pool, because she was too delicate and lacked strength.

This was when she began to receive the emperorʼs advances.

“This must be Lady Gufu. You may not know the story- she was the favorite concubine of Emperor Wutian. Their love was immortalized by many artists, including the Poet Xi. I’ve studied his work.” Censor Henshen smiled as he admired the statue and poetry.

“Her hair seems a bit long.” Tian noted. Not so long as to be mannish, of course, but considerably longer than the sisters of the Ancient Crane Monastery would tolerate.

“Accurate to her era, perhaps. I don’t know when the statue was carved, but hair fashions change, and the sumptuary laws change too.” The Censor shrugged.

Tian looked at it then shrugged. “Good scrub, Sister?”

“Mmm. I’m soaking in the pool in there,” She jerked her thumb at the green roofed building behind her. “Then I’m off for the herbal soak. I’ll meet you for dinner in the…” She trailed off, trying to remember.

“The Peach Blossom Pavilion. Have fun.” Tian cupped his hands and smiled.

Hong stared at the statue for a long few seconds, then shook her head and glanced away. She read the poetry, shook her head again and waved as she walked into the bath house. Tian hid a sigh. Liren stood straight and tall as she walked into the bath house. Looking terribly alone.

Their hot spring was in a large building. The spring itself was surrounded by a stone-lined pond, with a built-in bench below the water line. It was one of the cooler thermal springs, suitable for a child like Little Treasure. The boy groaned and flopped bonelessly on the bench, his little face just above the water line.

“Hehe. It seems the young gentleman is tired. Have you been on a long journey?” There were other men in their pool, a bit older than the Censor. A slightly chubby man that Tian dubbed The Merchant, and a skinny wisp of a man with a goaty beard and a faintly superior attitude. Tian decided that he was likely an official, or possibly a scholar.

“Just beginning one, I’m afraid, but all travel is tiring if you aren’t used to it.” The censor cupped his hands towards the two seniors. Tian had long since done the same, but didn’t feel any need to speak. Speaking, in his experience, was a dreadfully treacherous thing. Silence around strangers was always wise.

“Seniors, I caught a little of what you were saying when I walked in, and it sounded interesting. Were you referring to Sima’s Rites of Wei just now?” the Censor asked.

“Ah, a fellow scholar!” Goaty smiled and nodded. The Merchant likewise smiled, though a bit more thinly. “Indeed, indeed! Particularly the passage in Chapter Six- ‘The Heavenly Court and its officers stand in their eternal places, changing positions only after endless cycles of testing and reincarnation. So too must the earthy court be, lest chaos and disorder blight the nation and bring untold suffering to the world.’” Goaty had a good voice for reciting, Tian thought. It was easy on the ears.

Censor Henshen nodded. “A rather uncontroversial section, I always thought, yet it seems the Gentlemen have grown heated in your argument. What inspires so much passion?”

“It’s internally contradictory, and points to the false conclusion it is routinely cited to support.” The Merchant’s voice was confident and relaxed. “The positions aren’t eternal if they change, and the cycles of testing aren’t endless since they do result in changing positions. The framing reflects the author’s prejudices, not a verifiable truth.”

The Censor started laughing and coughing at the same time. “I see what you mean. I believe the accepted interpretation is that on a mortal timescale, they are functionally eternal, and likewise when each cycle of testing and rebirth lasts as long as a universal epoch of creation and destruction, it too could be deemed “endless.””

That got an approving nod from Goaty and a smirk from The Merchant.

“Exactly the orthodox position. Attested to by numerous authoritative commentaries, I might add.” Goaty slid a glance over to The Merchant as he stroked his wispy beard.

“And exactly the problem.” The Merchant thinned his eyes. “Young Gentleman, let’s put it to you. What’s better? That people should always remain in the roles they are born into, or should we let them struggle for rank?”

Little Treasure, who had been happily going boneless as he was ignored by his elders, visibly tensed. Then forced himself to relax. He was the son of a count. Being put on the spot by tutors was nothing new.

“The ranks should not change easily, but the meritorious must be promoted and failures punished.” His voice was high, but confident, clearly reciting a lesson he had memorized. It got faintly approving nods from the scholars. Acceptable, but only just, was Tian’s interpretation.

“Rather than rely on Sima, I prefer the proverb of the Old Master- ‘Refusing to correct a mistake is the true mistake.’” The Merchant snorted. “The whole civil service would collapse in a generation if we made the titles hereditary. Likewise, if erroneous orders were not corrected, how much waste and fraud would there be?”

“Prioritizing finality and reliability in official pronouncements is hardly a mistake! There is good reason for saying the place of a peasant is behind a plow or in the rice paddy, without permitting the possibility of becoming a noble, a merchant, a soldier, or any other class. Let us not forget that the Kingdom of Wu replaced the vile Shang. The slave armies of the Shang were bad enough, but the civil wars and warlordism that ravaged the land for almost three hundred years during their long collapse were considerably worse! No fixed status, no deference for righteous authority, only the constant striving for dominance. The struggle of beasts.”

The long bearded man slapped the water as he spoke to emphasize his points. Tian wondered if he did it as a display of dominance, like the crane stretching her wings.

Tian thought of the Dragon Calling Bell. Ring that, and fate had determined you were worthy of joining the Outer Court of Ancient Crane Mountain. Don’t, and a cultivation life wasn’t for you. A question of birth. Except it damn well wasn’t, was it? Not everyone had the potential to reach the apex, that was true, but far, far more than you would suppose could better their lot with cultivation, if they were just given the chance.

“Seniors, if I may ask, what brought on this argument?” Henshen asked.

“A ghost haunts the hot springs at night, and has done so for centuries. It claims that it had passed the Imperial Exams, but its results were wrongfully revoked and he was condemned to a life working in these baths. In death, it claims, it serves the people by suppressing evil ghosts and instructing those spirits that will listen about virtue and benevolence. Complaints about the ghost have piled up unresolved for so long, they have their own closet in the prefectural archive. We were coming here anyway, and thought we’d investigate and make a decision. In our roles as Officials of the Ministry of Personnel, should we grant the ghost an honorary role and title after death, relieving its grudge and confirming its service to the Kingdom? Or should we strictly maintain order, conform to the rulings of the ancestors, and have it executed by an exorcist?”