Fates Parallel Chapter 58 - Effort
Added 2021-04-12 20:38:00 +0000 UTCThirty six and a half seconds—a little more than a half. It was a weirdly specific number, but Lee Jia had absolute confidence in it. At first, she thought it was just how long she’d been able to maintain the technique, but the number was more significant than that. That was as much time as she could recall objectively—the limit of her mental capacity.
She’d noticed it right away when she tried to practice the memory technique again, and her previous perfect memory was overwritten. It wasn’t like she forgot about it entirely, she could still remember—remembering it. The way Dae described it, recalling an objective experience was a new subjective experience in and of itself. However, once she created a new objective experience, the previous one vanished.
So she could only perfectly remember thirty six and a half seconds at a time. No matter how good she got at the technique, that would probably not change—it was a limit defined by her cultivation, not her skill. Still, she had other reasons to practice. For example, she still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of keeping her wits through the ungodly headache, and the strain of it gave her wicked nosebleeds.
It was quite embarrassing when Eui found her collapsed on the bathroom floor in a pool of her own blood.
“Jia, what the fuck are you doing?”
Jia sat up and wiped her face off shakily with a towel—the nosebleeds made practicing the memory technique a bit messy.
“Training?”
Eui crossed her arms and scowled.
“To what? Bleed to death? Between an aura that makes people want to throw up and the ability to bleed out on command, your cultivation is going in a very strange direction.”
Jia chuckled as she rose to her feet and wobbled a bit from the dizziness. She might have overdone it a bit—her ki could sustain her through what would otherwise be traumatic harm, but there was still a limit to how much blood she could afford to lose.
Eui’s expression softened to one of concern when she saw the state that Jia was in.
“Jia, you can’t keep doing this, it’s not healthy—and I don’t just mean in the literal, bleeding to death, sense. I don’t understand your obsession. You’re doing all this for what? Thirty seconds of slightly better memory?”
“Thirty six and a half—a bit more than—”
“I don’t care, Jia! That’s not the point.”
Jia took a deep breath and collected her thoughts.
“It’s not just slightly better memory. It might be the best chance I have at figuring out how to resist Yue’s moon dreaming whatever before next week.”
“Why next week? Nothing is going to happen, Jia. We’ll go up to the mountain, look around for a demon that’s definitely long gone, then come back empty handed while those Qin idiots wonder what to do next. I thought I was supposed to be the paranoid one!”
“I don’t know, Eui. I just have this awful premonition that it’s not going to go that smoothly. Everything we know about Zheng Long, Han Yu, and Yan Hao, we learned from Yan Yue, and she’s not nearly as much in control of the situation as she pretends to be.”
Eui frowned and leaned against the doorframe.
“I still don’t see how this helps. How are you supposed to use this in a fight?”
Jia shrugged.
“That’s why I need to practice. Anyway, Eunae’s coming over for training soon, do you mind letting me get cleaned up?”
Before Eui’s confession, Jia probably wouldn’t have bothered asking for privacy, but it felt a bit awkward to shower in front of her now. Eui blushed and turned around before pausing.
“Uh, wait, you’re not going to try using this new technique for your staring contests are you?”
Satisfied that Eui wasn’t looking, Jia began to undress—she had only been wearing some cheap underclothes to save herself having to wash the blood off.
“That was the plan. Maybe not today, but this week for sure. I need to be as ready as possible for next week’s trip. Don’t worry, I’ll give her ample warning.”
Eui began to turn around to protest, but stopped when she heard the sound of water. She instead kept her back turned as she responded.
“That’s not the part I’m worried about, Jia. I just feel like you’re rushing things too much—there’s such a thing as working too hard, you know.”
“I know, Eui, I just don’t have time. Too many things happened at once, and I’m not ready for any of it.”
“Just—don’t hurt yourself, okay? It would kind of ruin the point if you ended up injuring yourself in the process, right?”
Jia finished rinsing herself off and turned off the water. She dried off with one of the less bloody towels as she responded.
“You’re right—sorry for worrying you, Eui. I’ll try to moderate myself a bit more.”
Eui let out a sigh of relief and Jia smiled before throwing a wet towel at her.
“Now get out of here so I can get dressed!”
Eui giggled and vacated the doorframe, shutting it behind her to give Jia her privacy. Jia sighed as she donned the usual uniform and watched the blood-stained water slowly drain away. Eui was right, she was pushing herself too hard.
Why, then, did she feel like it still wasn’t enough? She couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding as she went to put some tea on to receive Eunae.
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Jia’s conversation with Eui reminded her that they really did know precious little about their new adversaries. In particular, Jia had never even seen Yan Hao since the introduction ceremony. Today, she intended to change that.
It wasn’t like it was particularly difficult—unlike Qin Zhao’s invitation-only classes, or Do Hye’s formal registration, Yan Hao ran open lectures and did not turn away any students. All they had to do is pick a time when he was teaching and show up.
It came as a bit of a surprise, then, when she arrived with a small group of friends to discover that they were the only non-Qin students in the class. She had brought Eui, Rika, Dae, and Eunae. Dae was a little bit awkward, joining the group of girls, but it hadn’t taken much convincing to bring him along.
Jia had been particularly interested in bringing Eunae and Dae with her—she knew that the Qin group were wary of them, and their presence would hopefully prevent anyone from starting trouble. She felt a little bit bad about using her friends that way, but Eunae knew the score and didn’t mind it, and Dae—well, she’d have to make it up to him later.
The group received a few strange glances as they took their seats in the large, multi-tiered lecture hall, but were otherwise undisturbed. Scanning the small crowd, Jia spotted Zheng Long and Han Yu sitting together near the front, eyeing her warily, but didn’t see any sign of Yan Yue. She spotted Xin Wei—well, she spotted Guan Yi, but it was Xin Wei who met her gaze.
With a wide grin, Xin Wei approached her group, dragging Guan Yi along behind him.
“Well well, if it isn’t our very own Miss Lee Jia, and you’ve brought the entire entourage! To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Lee Jia rolled her eyes—she was long used to Xin’s odd attempts to antagonize people.
“Obviously we’re here to learn about herbalism. That is the point of the class, isn’t it?”
“True enough! Where’s your token Qin member? Don’t tell me you’ve ended yet another scion of the Yan family!”
That drew more than a few looks from the Qin disciples, and Jia had to force herself to stay composed.
“Xin, you should know better than to joke about something like that. Yue is doing just fine, and I doubt that she would appreciate such distasteful jests at the expense of her late brother.”
The stares shifted towards Xin, and even Guan seemed to be eyeing him with a disapproving look—or as disapproving as his expressionless face could manage, at any rate. For better or worse, interacting with Xin had taught Jia to speak his language—though she still hated the little games he constantly played.
“Ahaha, you’re right. Forgive me, that was in poor taste. Allow us to make up for it by taking her place as the Qin representatives in your little study group.”
Jia sighed and shook her head. Every conversation with Xin was like a little battle—it was exhausting.
“I’m happy to tolerate you for the sake of a friend like Guan Yi, Xin. Despite your implications, I don’t pick my friends based on ethnicity.”
Xin pointedly eyed the group she had arrived with, which was entirely comprised of half-spirits with the exception of Rika.
“Just a coincidence, then.”
Jia didn’t really have a retort as the two took their seats, but Guan Yi came to her rescue.
“Do not mind Xin, Miss Lee. He is simply jealous, and worries that you have replaced him with someone more tolerable—sadly, not a very high bar to set.”
Xin made a sour face at Guan and scoffed.
“Why do you always take her side? What do I pay you for?”
“You do not pay me, Xin—we are friends. And I take her side because your reactions amuse me. Also, you keep calling me Stoneface.”
Guan Yi earned the nickname with a perfect deadpan as Xin grumbled about being ganged up on.
Moments later, Yan Hao entered the lecture hall and stood before the podium. His round features didn’t seem to hold him back any, and he moved with a sort of grace that belied his size. He had a permanent, kind smile on his face that gave a sort of jolly impression.
His eyes settled on Jia’s group as he addressed the class.
“Oh my! It seems we’ve got some new additions, how lovely! I must warn that while I won’t turn anyone away, my lessons won’t be of much use to those who have not awakened their souls.”
Jia wondered if she should tell him that her group consisted entirely of omnidisciplinary cultivators. Dae was already taking notes, while Eui and Rika seemed mostly uninterested. It was Eunae who stood and bowed deeply before addressing Yan Hao.
“We appreciate your candor, esteemed elder. However, all of us have practiced Elder Qin’s foundation building technique and successfully awakened our qi. I do not believe we will have any trouble following the lesson.”
Yan Hao’s face lit up with a wide grin and he applauded enthusiastically.
“Lovely! Lovely! My, the other nations certainly held nothing back with the talents they sent here, eh? Take note, class! That’s the kind of effort each and every one of you should aspire to! Well, in that case, let’s begin with a quick review, shall we?”
Jia was shocked by just how amiable Yan Hao was. With the sole exception of Guan Yi, every person she’d met from Qin seemed to have an air of snobbish superiority that colored everything they did and said. She didn’t get any of that from Yan Hao, who seemed genuinely pleased and enthusiastic about teaching a group of foreign students. It was a stark contrast to Qin Zhao, who had only begrudgingly taught them anything, and then thrown them away at the first opportunity.
The review portion of the lesson was simple enough to follow. Yan Hao explained that alchemy and herbalism had once been separate disciplines that had inevitably grown until they overlapped and then eclipsed each other. In theory, herbalism was the study of immortal grade plants and the medicines that could be created from them, while alchemy focused on the creation of pills and elixirs.
Alchemy was once distinct from herbalism in that it would use things such as unique minerals, mana stones, or the organs of magical beasts. Over the centuries, the practitioners of each discipline spent so much time comparing notes and collaborating that any half-decent alchemist became an equally skilled herbalist and vice versa. Now, the two were generally considered to be one and the same.
“We are distinct from mortal druggists and doctors in that—as with all things in the realm of immortal practitioners—our craft is defined by our cultivation. The power, insight, and intent of the alchemist is as important as the materials he uses to create his elixirs. A young apprentice could follow his master’s recipe with complete perfection, and still fail to recreate it.”
This was the same place where things always seemed to get complicated with cultivation. Even having experienced it herself, she still had a hard time understanding it. Mana, qi, ki, essence—whatever you wanted to call it—was a strange thing. It reshaped anything it touched, and was reshaped in turn.
There were a lot of terms used—insight, understanding, intent—but they all generally seemed to refer to the same concept. The nature of spiritual essence changed depending on how it was perceived. That was why meditation was such a crucial part of cultivation—one had to cultivate not only the essence itself, but one’s understanding of it. Magical beasts cultivated by instinct alone, without thought or feeling to guide them, but plants or minerals?
“Well, they don’t cultivate at all—not really! They can gather qi, but they don’t do anything with it. Yet, plants and minerals which have gathered a great deal of qi can be powerful indeed! In fact, controlling access to such materials is half the reason why the great sects choose to headquarter themselves high atop the mountain peaks!
“Because such materials gather large quantities of qi without refining it, their effects and potency can be shaped greatly by the cultivator who works with them. There are patterns, of course—these things are not wholly without form—but as with the techniques we practice, their ultimate expression will depend upon the cultivator.”
The lesson from that point on mostly focused on some of the more specific techniques for breaking down, mixing, and empowering elixirs and medicines from the materials that one collected. Yan Hao’s lessons were succinct and insightful, and also completely incongruous with the image that Lee Jia had built up of him from Yan Yue’s descriptions and her previous experience with the people of Qin.
The last point in the lesson was actually extremely interesting to Lee Jia, as it was pertinent to her immediate future.
“The mountain here has never been formally named, but it’s colloquially referred to as the Forbidden Peak because no nation has ever managed to hold control of it for any appreciable length of time. Indeed, one primary impetus of our alliance was to establish a foothold here, so that we might split the treasures of the mountain three ways instead of simply denying its benefits to each other.
“Forbidden Peak is an incredibly potent locus of spiritual energy—in Goryeo, I believe the mages call it a ‘leyline nexus’, isn’t that right Mister Hyeong?”
Dae looked up from his notes, surprised that he had been addressed, and chuckled nervously.
“Ahehe, y-yes, that’s right. Mount Geumji is considered to be the most powerful known leyline nexus on the continent—eh, that’s just the Goryeon name for it, by the way. I’m sure you just meant that it hadn’t been formally named in Qin.”
Yan Hao nodded along happily, apparently unperturbed at being corrected.
“Just so! Just so! With such a powerful confluence of spiritual energy, there may be all manner of rare and valuable materials just waiting to be reaped. That said, great treasure is often married to even greater danger. There may be powerful beasts, elementals, or even spirits enjoying the benefits of the Forbidden Peak. As such, disciples are currently not allowed to go beyond the base of the mountain, though I understand that special dispensation can be granted.
“Should you obtain such dispensation, be sure to keep a sharp eye out for any interesting plants or other materials—and an even sharper eye for dangerous beasts! I’d love to work with some of you to see what wonders we might create from such powerful reagents.”
After the lesson had ended, Lee Jia found herself simultaneously intrigued and disappointed by the experience. Zheng Long and Han Yu had just completely ignored them, and she was more confused about Yan Hao’s motives now than she had been before. At the same time, she was very interested in the kinds of benefits she might be able to gain from collecting materials on the mountain peak.
She had avoided any cultivation aids or elixirs so far—they reminded her too much of the drugs that gangsters used to deal in back home—but if the resources on the mountain peak were so valuable, then wouldn’t it be foolish not to make the best use of them that she could? She resolved to learn as much as she could about alchemy in the future.
For that matter, she recalled that she had yet to attend any of Do Hye’s lessons—mostly a conscious choice, as the study of formations was a long-term endeavor and she was in desperate need of short-term gains. Still, it was another aspect in which she was lacking, and something she would need to work on sooner or later—after the mountain trip, she decided.
As Jia furiously pondered how else she might prepare for anything that might occur during the upcoming trip, she once again recalled the unusual technique that she had discovered in a dream. She had been dismissive of it at first, but she still recalled it so vividly, even though the original dream was long forgotten. Besides, after her experience with Yue’s techniques, Jia was inclined to take dreams much more seriously.
She burned with curiosity about the technique, and the fact that Yan Yue had told her she should avoid it almost made her want to practice it just out of spite. If anything happened on the mountain trip, she was going to need every last advantage she could possibly get.
Lee Jia nodded as she confirmed her own internal checklist—by next week she would master her new memory technique, learn how to resist spiritual and mental attacks, and follow the steps that had come to her in a dream.
How hard could it be?