The shrill shriek of children trying to kick down the door to his quarters suddenly woke Bái Jiānwēi up, followed by the faraway bellowing of one of his martial sisters. "Come back, you little brats!" She howled from farther into the building.
Groaning, he rubbed a hand against his eyes, plopping himself on his elbows after noticing he fell asleep on his desk. He groggily got up from his slouch to slap his door open and allow the kids inside. They slammed the door shut, and nervously tried to keep their laughter down as they listened to their Shījiě run past the room.
When it was safe to do so, they noisily sprawled around the tea table, swiftly dumping their pockets full of this morning's adventures as Jiānwēi was boiling water for the morning tea. "So, should this senior tax you for the help?" He mused aloud, to the immediate protests of the younger ones. "You only opened your door, Yǔ-Gēge!"
At the address, Jiānwēi tutted, disapproving. "It's 'Jiānwēi-Shīxiōng' to you, Liang-Shīdì."
A-Liang groaned, dramatically rolling his eyes to the sky and letting his skull thump on the table. This caused the hilarity of their little Shīmèi, who was licking a mix of spice and sugar on her palm. "You are only a few years older than us!" A-Liang bemoaned.
Little A-Xiang patted him pityingly on his bun. "There there, A-Liang. It's okay, Jiānwēi-Shūshu is teasing."
The adult stopped his sipping to smirk, a dangerous light in his eyes as he gazed upon the children. "This one is 'Shūshu' to you now?"
The solemn boy nodded, as their Meimei grabbed ahold of A-Liang's hair with her sticky hand and pulled it under her nose, puckering her lips and obviously mimicking a moustache. Eyes shining with mirth, she used her other hand to sign: "You're only missing the beard, Gēge".
Jiānwēi chuckled, putting down his cup and rising from his kneeling. He put his foot on the lacquered table, mindless of the falling peanuts, then launched himself at the children. "This Shīxiōng will show you!" He shouted.
For the next Ke, this side of the disciples' quarter rang with delighted screaming and little feet scattering like chicken.
"One, two… Freeze. Straighten your back: I want you all to imagine a cord hanging from the sky, holding your head up. One, two, three… Good, but bend your knees. One, two, three. Steady your breath. One, two, three. Now, drop into your left seated meditation form: right hand guard the right thigh, your left hand guard against upward-coming attacks, right knee tucked behind the left. Hips on the back heel. Good. Keep your head up, stabilise your position. Root your Qi into the earth, feel it pulsing under you. Hold this form for thirty. Count together with me, and slowly: one, two, three, four…"
Bái Jiānwēi walks among the ranks, adjusting their body just so and slightly hitting their tense hands to remind them to stiffen their muscles. He makes them drop into their right seated meditation position, before counting again.
At the end of the count, he instructed them to jump into their left crane position. "Arms level with your shoulders, fingers pointed together down to the earth. Right toes pointed upwards ready to strike, left knee bent. Keep your eyes on me: do not waver. Raise your head." He stopped for a moment, chest rising in steady breaths before continuing: "I will ask questions: you will stay until you give me a satisfying answer."
He can see them sweating profusely, their bodies struggling to hold their own against gravity. Some of them are jumping on one foot while trying to stabilise.
The lesson will have to be wrapped soon to avoid injuries.
He walks in front of the rows of disciples, hands clasped behind his back. "What is the difference between a jiangshi and a gui?" He asked them.
"A jiangshi is a reanimated corpse with a physical body, a gui is a malevolent spirit." Piped a boy.
"What are the steps to take when faced with one or the other?"
"The Sect's Six Orders are to warn, bind, heal, soothe, disperse then pay respect."
Bái Jiānwēi turns to one of the younger, newer disciples. He bends at the waist, nose close to her tense, concentrated face to ask her gently: "What are those commands abridging, Fang-Shīmèi?"
Wen Fang lets out a grunt, eyebrows drawn taunt on her forehead. Even as she was struggling to stay standing, she answered him: "The Six Orders command to warn other disciples and common people of the spirit's presence, then to bind it, before providing first aid to the injured. After this the spirit can be soothed of its resentment, then dispersed. At the very very end, we then pay proper respect to the spirit by making sure it receives the proper burial rites."
Bái Jiānwēi hummed and left her, not before adding: "If you cannot bind the spirit, then ward the area it is in."
He instructed them to hop into their right crane form, before stopping in front of one of the older disciples to kick him in the abdomen, making him spit out a pained grunt and correct his incorrect posture.
"What is the difference between spirits and demons?"
"Spirits are creatures born out of resentment energy, demons are otherworldly beings born out of plane."
"How do we handle those?"
At the other's silence, he turned to the group, inviting them to answer.
One of the older students gave in with a steady, clear voice. "The process is similar to the Six Orders : one has to warn his fellows of the creature's presence, put wards around the area, provide immediate aid, then eliminate the demon. Afterward, the demonic energy coming from the neutralisation site needs to be tracked until the Rift from which the creature comes from is found. We can then close it and cleanse the corresponding areas of its demonic Qi."
Listening to his answer, Bái Jiānwēi strutted leisurely back to the front of the training yard before turning slowly to face the disciples. He crossed his arms on his chest, observing them with an austere and closed-off face, regaling in their sweat-drenched bodies and their skin stretched taunt with concentration. The sun was pounding over the canopy of trees shielding their heads.
Abruptly, he smiled and unclasped his arms. "Good work. I'm proud of you. I'm going to swim offshore now before going to eat in Yōu Quán village. Who wants to come with me?" A few of the younger disciples broke formation to raise enthusiastic hands to the sky, eager to feel the cold water on their skin after a full morning of working in the heavy, humid heat of the mountain. Seeing the youngsters move, the older disciples groaned in misery.
The pleasant stretch of Bái Jiānwēi's lips morphed into a wicked smile, and he pointed to the ground under his feet. "Twenty jump push-ups, now. All of you. I never instructed you to break form."
What followed was a collective cry of misery—music to his ears really, and he lowered himself down in a crouch to follow them in their punishment. "On the count to one. Three, two… one!" Followed by his exhausted students, he jumped on the ground to pump once, nose grazing the dirt before immediately bouncing back on his feet and jumping in the air, hands coming to slap his feet before dropping back down, face a hair away from the dust. "One!" He bellowed, before jumping back up again.
Higher on a shaded planked path and tailed by students barely out of toddlerhood, Bái Jīnpéng smiles approvingly down at his Dìdi.
After reaching the required number of jumped push-ups, the punished gaggle of disciples were barely finishing their breath-recovering forms under Bái Jiānwēi's instructions when one of them jumped on him with a high-pitched roar, trying to tackle their Shīxiōng to the ground, only to be met by an unmovable mountain. Bái Jiānwēi laughed brightly as A-Liang huffed and puffed, little feet pushing desperately in the dirt as his grip around the older's leg tightened. The instructor ruffled his sweat-coated hair teasingly. "Alright, it's time to go clean oursel-" Bái Jiānwēi was interrupted by the nearby disciples suddenly pouncing on him with an exaggerated battle cry, finally toppling him to the ground with a wheeze, delighted giggles erupting from the human pile.
Afar, Bái Jīnpéng gently shook his head and laughed slightly to himself as he shepherded his own pack of gawking children toward the dining hall, leaving his brother to frolic with his own.
Yōu Quán village was a simple, prosperous place. The Lóngyín River coursing gently from the seashore to the heart of the land made it a meagre but stable village with enough trade partnerships to allow the businesses to prosper. It is nestled amidst a peaceful landscape, with the water serving as its lifeblood.
Before the installation of the Huái Niàn Sect four hundred years ago on the nearby Huái Lóng Island, the location had a long history of being the home to many wandering cultivators seeking to strengthen their Golden Cores or foster academic conferences. If the city is still fostering amiable relations with the nearby sects, it being under the Huái Niàn Sect's protection meant relinquishing its attractiveness for rogue cultivators or scholars: after all, what kind of self-respecting cultivator would risk tarnishing their Qi with the proximity of Ghostly practitioners?
Thus was the consensus of the cultivation world: staying far from the central East coast was best, and this for as long as the Huái Niàn Sect was standing.
Despite the resulting aversion from the cultivation world, Yōu Quán's inhabitants were common people, and as such cared little for cultivator quarrels. They could only see the swiftness with which Huái Niàn's disciples would deal with monsters and the respect they carried for the town's funerary rites.
The Sect was known to take in the most poor and provide them residence against menial work: the stray population was close to none, for the Huái Niàn was indiscriminate in opening its doors for allegiance to any lost soul that proved itself benevolent—human or animal. As children were assumed immaculate by default, they were systematically offered a place in the Sect.
For their deeds, Huái Niàn's disciples were gladly welcomed in these streets, much to the delight of its merchants.
Today was a permission day for the teenagers among their rank, and they were roaming freely while chaperoned by their elders.
While the children were amusing themselves around the marketplace, Bái Jiānwēi was stuck arguing with a city official in a lush office. He struck his fist against the black lacquered wood, eyebrows drawn in an angry scrawl. "We have been over this matter, there needs to be a lockdown in place for next week's Hunt! The southern forest's spirits have been festering too much lately, and with our placement and the mountains in its back, there is a serious risk of them fleeing through town to escape during our intervention!"
The official shook their head, wearing a commiserate pout. "I'm sorry Jiānwēi-Jūnzi, but you are not in a position to make such demands. We have strict protocols for these events, and the village's representative is clear in his instructions: only the Sect Leader can ask for these kinds of measures."
Bái Jiānwēi scoffed. "You know as much as I do that we have no Leader at the moment. The Elders's Council appointed me to manage the Night Hunts matter."
The other shrugged in answer, nonchalantly opening one of their hand-painted fans with a sharp gesture of their wrist, lazily blowing air into their face as it remained inexpressive. "Laws are absolute. What you ask of me is not within my power."
The cultivator gritted his teeth, eyes flaming. "There must be mindfulness beyond the law. Multiple people will risk harm if you do not allow this."
"Not abiding by rules will unbalance society. However, why not be more mindful of the village on your Hunt? Build a ward around the area to keep spirits out, and try to keep out of the ponds this time."
Bái Jiānwēi rubbed his forehead, mindfully avoiding displacing his mourning band as he did so. His answer came out in a whining voice: "We have been over this for half a shichen now, Yún Huìmíng! We have already exhausted all other solutions!"
He jabbed his finger in the official's direction shamelessly, and the other blinked lazily. "As I've already stated, people with diluted creature blood would not be permitted entry in the city with such wards in place. Moreover, keeping uprooted spirits from the village's ground would create resentful monsters, as they wouldn't be able to properly receive the soothing energy that would ensure their peaceful departure during their funerary rites! There is simply no other option than keeping the villagers inside!"
Yún Huìmíng fanned their face faster, displacing the stray locks usually on their collarbones to their back, cheeks slightly flushed with concealed agitation.
"And what of their home, Jiānwēi-Jūnzi? Would they withstand the tremendous force with which monsters will batter at their walls to reach them, or to escape your Hunt? How do you intend them to be safe?"
Bái Jiānwēi groaned properly this time. "As I said, it's spirits! Barely fifty of weak to mild gui, they barely can do any physical harm!"
Yún Huìmíng's painted smile stayed in place, unwavering and unnerving in its insincerity, irritating the person in front of them.
"How can you be so sure? A jiangshi invasion can hide an Earth Abyss, and intelligent monsters mask themselves into weaker ones to avoid dispersion." At the other's aborted protest, they shushed him with a snap of their fan and a warning look. "Until the Huái Niàn Sect brings us evidence that the monsters you are hunting are spirits, we will not allow a lockdown to be ordered."
"How do you want us to bring you evidence of the presence of non-corporal creatures?" Bái Jiānwēi's eyes rolled, and he moved his hand in an agitated manner as he continued: "Besides, if we find their nest, we might as well take care of them instead of coming back later and risking them having moved out and closer to Yōu Quán!"
Yún Huìmíng observed him for a long instant, seemingly mulling over the words to say, distractingly fanning their face and eyes glazed over. Their voice stayed steady and humble as they answered, voice final: "I understand your frustration, but rules are set in stone. They do not waver under the flood. Make a thought-out proposal if this one's answers do not satisfy you."
A vein threatened to pop on Bái Jiānwēi's brow, and he clenched his fist white. "Cease this obstruction this instant, Yún Huìmíng!"
The other's aggravating face didn't change.
Flora abounds in the village, with lush greenery and vibrant flowers adorning many corners under the spring sun. Willow trees swayed gently in the breeze along the Lóngyín's banks, their graceful branches dipping into the water. The buzz of the market was as gentle as the wind, bringing joyful laughter and sweet scents up the paved streets.
"Young Master! Would you like to have a taste of my longan?" Called an older lady behind a stall.
Bái Jiānwēi approached the stand with a slow stroll, one hand clasped behind his back as he examined the brown fruits. He hummed in appreciation. "I will take five." He handed her the money and bowed in thanks, preparing to take off.
"Are you married yet? My granddaughter has been searching for a spouse, and a polite man like you would love her soft face!"
Bái Jiānwēi sputtered, shaking his hands in denial before being interrupted by a familiar hand popping up from the crowd and pressing on his shoulder. Bái Jīnpéng stepped up and wrapped himself against his younger brother, plopping his head on his head, mindless of the bun that he was disheveling. He made sure to let all his weight rest on Bái Jiānwēi's body, making him puff in exertion and bend his knees to accommodate the change in gravity. His annoyingly nasal voice rang out right next to his ear: "Oh my, young lady! This one is much too young for your granddaughter, and much too immature for her!"
At that, Bái Jiānwēi raised his leg and kicked his heel onto the top of his brother's foot. "What are you doing?" He seethed under his breath, face hot with embarrassment at Bái Jīnpéng's antics.
The old woman's hand flew to her mouth, wrinkled eyes widening. "I'm sorry, I didn't know! He looks older than he is, I thought he was of marrying age!"
Bái Jīnpéng nodded in commiseration, his face falsely grave. "I know Auntie, and that is why I must protect his virtue. You know how those young people are nowaday, don't you? So quick to play with no secure party."
The woman's face reddened and she hid her mouth, flustered. Her eyes darted around, making sure nobody was listening in. "Oh yes, for sure! It was just this morning that I overheard Su She speak with his neighbour about how Wang Li's son was overheard…" And on and on she went, sharing gossip. All throughout, Bái Jīnpéng stayed flush against his back, putting more and more of his weight on his shoulder and head until the younger's face was tight with tension. Bái Jiānwēi refused to move, though. Like his brother, he did enjoy a fresh scandal.
"... and she then threw the apple in his face and left him in the barn. Poor lad!" She exclaimed.
Bái Jiānwēi felt his brother nod against his head, chin digging into his skull.
As she was packing another customer's order, the woman seemed to notice the time, and cried out: "Oh my, many apologies for keeping you from your way, Young Masters!"
Bái Jīnpéng shook his head, smiling with his eyes closed.
"Not at all, Auntie, you know how I enjoy your tales. Besides, Bái Jiānwēi's young mind needs to be warned from his peers' misdeeds. This was a very teachable moment for him, for sure!"
At these words, the old woman seemed to remember his presence and addressed him: "Ah, but you never said, how old are you? You really do look very mature."
Bái Jiānwēi grumbled his answer under his breath, shifting around and trying to dislodge his brother. Not hearing his answer, he asked him to repeat again. At this, Bái Jīnpéng tightened his arms around him and cleared his throat. A smirk was tickling the corner of his lips, and Bái Jiānwēi had a bad feeling about it.
"A-Yǔ is five!" Bái Jīnpéng said, holding out three fingers out of his hand, before releasing him and rising from his slumped position. He slapped him on the back. "You see, he has never grown!" Bái Jīnpéng continued.
"I'm not! I'm twenty-two!" Bái Jiānwēi protested.
But Bái Jīnpéng was already too busy explaining to her where the sentence came from to listen, so he huffed and blew his cheeks, giving up. He bowed his goodbye to the seller, violently kicked his brother in the chin, and took off toward a back alley.
Making sure he was not seen, he jumped on the closest roof to reach the highest building overlooking the venue. He took a seat on the red ceramic tiles, feet dangling in the air and wind tangling his long hair as he gnawed on one fruit. His face took on a pleased expression.
His eyes swiped around the buildings, taking a more calculating look. Yún Huìmíng's irritating argumentation raised an ongoing issue that needed remedial work. And since a spirit ward was not an option for the village, why not build a safe space within the town with enough wardings to withstand assault? However, some houses were quite spaced and having the people get out and run around in an invasion to reach a faraway place would assure many of them get harmed. These warded places should be spaced around the town, he mused.
Few buildings can hold many people, however the individuals with creature blood cannot take shelter. Moreover, many of them do not know of their ascent: they will learn about it when they reach the shelter, and find themselves kept out and vulnerable in the midst of a potentially highly dangerous moment.
He beat his feet in the air, making the bell bracelet tied around his left foot jingle, the sound resonating like a gong in his mind and helping clear his thoughts in waves.
What about double wards layers? The first would keep creatures out, while the second—enveloping the first and with a wider circumference—would neutralise anything that is not strictly human for a temporary moment until cultivators come to sort through the unconscious, dispersing the malicious and freeing the neutral and benevolent.
"Hm…"
And in case the people get afraid and try to flee the circles in their fright, there need to be barriers in place to keep them in until a cultivator comes free them.
If the Hunt is particularly difficult, this can very well cause them to be stuck for many days in there. Therefore, the only sensible solution would be to appoint some cultivators in each location that will guard the places from the inside, and will open the wards after a signal is rung, signifying the end of the Hunt. This would also make sure no panicked riot ensues, and if the Hunt lasts too many days, the cultivators can come out to send a message to allied Sects and call for reinforcements.
Now for the locations… Few buildings could host that amount of people at once, and comfortably at that. It would be most ideal if they all had enough space to sleep the night off.
He flapped his left hand around, causing his bracelets chime to jingle, the movement shaking off the tension in his body and inducing a pleasant tingle to spread under his skin.
Why not use the temples? While they are places of worship, the gods and priests couldn't realistically object to the shelter of people if they prayed, could they? There were enough of them throughout the village, and they were already cleansed of any lingering resentful energy—a perfect working ground for ward-posing. But to study this matter, someone skilled with words needed to negotiate the matter of lending the places with the monks. The one that should argue the subject should preferably not be a cultivator, to further press the common people's interest in the project.
At this last thought, Bái Jiānwēi groaned and flopped back into his back with a dull thud, gaze lost in the greying, veiled sky. A dull throbbing was already forming behind his eyes. He'd have to talk with that thick-headed official again…
The soft 'Pat' of feet landing on the roof woke him up from his commiseration, and he scowled at the grinning face of his older brother. "Why would this cute Dìdi be scowling?" Bái Jīnpéng asked, playfully hitting the tip of his shoe to Bái Jiānwēi's shoulder before taking a seat next to him.
"Politics," moaned the younger man in answer, before turning to tuck his face into his Da-Gē's lap with an exaggerated pout.
Bái Jīnpéng laughed, patting his head mockingly. "Aya, my poor Dìdi must be miserable." He rummaged in his sleeve, taking out some sweet skewers wrapped in leaves. "I suppose this poor Dìdi is too mature to eat Tanghulu with his xiōngzhǎng then…" At these words, Bái Jiānwēi jumped up from his pouting slouch to grab his brother's hand, noisily biting one of the skewers with a huff. Bái Jīnpéng choked around his saliva before bursting out laughing, grabbing the younger's head and pushing him off the skewer stick the younger was still hanging on. "Down, you beast! There is enough for the both of us!"
As little drops of rain started to fall from the sky, darkly tinting the roof tiles, the atmosphere around the two brothers shifted. The sweet moment became wrapped in the gentle embrace of the warm drizzle. Eventually, Bái Jīnpéng found himself drifting off to sleep, his head nestled comfortably on his brother's lap, while Bái Jiānwēi gazed down at the bustling activity of the people below.
Suddenly, a soft mewl sounded next to them. A pair of wide green eyes was looking up, small black and white ears perked up as a small, chubby cat was cautiously stepping closer. Bái Jiānwēi gazed down softly, sticking a finger out for the animal to sniff.
"And what are you doing up there, little one?" He asked in a soothing voice.
In response, he was met with a series of old, raspy purrs.
He slowly extended his hand more, allowing the cat to lean forward and bump its head against his hand, clearly requesting affection. Bái Jiānwēi obliged, his face lighting up with a bright smile as he stroked the fur, delighting at the surprisingly silky-soft texture under his fingers.
The cat's purrs grew louder, a comforting rumble that resonated through his hand. After a while, he gently picked it up, dislodging his grumbling brother from his sprawl and cradling the animal in his arms. He lifted it up to eye level, turning its feline face to Bái Jīnpéng, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Can we keep it, Xiōngzhǎng?" he asked, his tone elated and hopeful.
Sleepy, Bái Jīnpéng chuckled, the sound warm and indulgent.
It was the hushed moments between day and night, when the last rays of sunlight faded into darkness. As the sun dipped into the horizon, the last beam flashed into inexistence and an eerie glow set on the grass of the forest clearing. The trees were now only illuminated by the faint afterglow of a halfmoon.
The tangy smell of wet aether hangs in the air, only to briskly sour, taking on a nauseatingly rotten smell. As the resentful energy grew in the air, the white-clad cultivators took formation. "Ready your weapons", whispered Bái Jiānwēi.
From the tree-side, the shadows seemed to ripple. Its long tendrils stretched out in their direction, rapidly reaching them with an otherworldly, multi-voiced and breathless screech. The front rows of disciples shielded the inner-group with the glimmer of an energetic shield, as they all carefully moved backward to the cliff-side, the shadows battering at their defence.
Just as they reached the precipice, Bái Jiānwēi commanded them: "Now!"
While the front row kept the shield up, the hidden cultivators brought two of their fingers up in front of their face, incanting. The talismans melted into the trees lit up in a blaze, dispersing the shadows hiding the creatures, effectively trapping them in the clearing. As a few of the disciples kept formation to maintain the light trap, many more broke out from their cover to cast the swirling and shrieking mass of darkness into sealing qiankun pouches. As the last of it was swallowed down into its bag, the young disciples allowed themselves a moment of respite with a collective exhale. Their faces went alight with triumphant grins as they dispelled their protective wards.
Bái Jiānwēi grit his teeth. "Stay on your guard, search the surroundings! Dusk Walkers never manifest on their own, there is a Rift to the Night Realm somewhere," he barked.
With a swift motion, he mounted his sword and took to the air. Once over the treeline, he opened his arms, fingers flat to the ground and outstretched, closing his eyes to feel the energetic tendrils left behind by spirits to try and grasp at the monsters' trail. After a few deep breaths, his eyes snapped open and he angled his sword. He swiped down to his group to tell them to follow him, and took off.
Half a shichen of flight later, Bái Jiānwēi descended alone near the mouth of a yawning cave. The rocky maw loomed before him, its jagged edges obscured by a tangle of vines and foliage. As he approached, a chill wind whispered from the depths, carrying with it a palpable aura of malevolence that prickled at his skin like icy fingertips tracing down his spine.
The cave's gaping jaws seemed to swallow the moonlight, casting shadows that danced and flickered in the night. Bái Jiānwēi hesitated at the threshold, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He was a senior disciple, had been on countless night hunts before, yet the animal he tamed inside his chest was squealing in fright. Something wasn't right…
With a steadying breath and a fist clenched around the pommel of his unsheathed sword, he stepped forward into the darkness, his senses alert to every subtle energetic shift around him. The damp earth beneath his feet squelched softly with each step, the sound echoing faintly against the cavern walls like a whisper.
The air was heavy with the musty scent of ancient stone and decay, mingled with the acrid tang of lingering resentful energy. It clung to the walls like a sinister shroud, filling the rocky guts with a stifling atmosphere that seemed to press down upon him from all sides. On his tongue, the unbalanced Qi felt acrid.
Every shadow seemed to pulse, making his heart flicker in anticipation.
A light seemed to shimmer after the next narrow turn of the tunnel. As he took it, his guard up and ready to defend himself, he was surprised to find an underwater pond. Suspicious, he walked closer, instinctively circulating his energy and reaching outward, tasting.
A malignant, wicked hand materialised from the water and wrapped around his Qi, pulling him in. Ice seized his meridians and travelled up, settling into his dentians and immobilising him. Wild, primal tears filled his eyes as his feet dragged heavy in the mud. His hands opened, and his sword dropped to the ground with a sloshing wet sound. His mind trashed and howled around its binds, desperate to get free.
His booted foot hovered over the pool, before gravity pulled him off, making him pummel into the void.