The library of Sparkling Sulfurium was, to put it mildly, claustrophobically small. The room for it had been freshly cut from stone, not even sanded down, but that clearly had not been enough. The stacks had taken up three quarters of the room, leaving just enough space for a single narrow table - and with three people jammed in around it Qian Shanyi felt she could only breathe in when someone else had already breathed out.

The stacks were in no better shape. A full four-fifths of them were taken up by various official records, leaving only three bookshelves for lighter reading and even less for the academic tomes. The wheeled bookshelves were set on rails that ran along one side of the cramped room, stacked up against one another so densely that only two could be accessed at any one time - and even then, you had to squeeze.

Though the burning incense didn't help the sense of rock above pressing down on them, at least it pushed the ever-present stench of sulfur out of the room. Qian Shanyi worried a little about how it affected the books, but she doubted anything of any true rarity was stored here - and without the fragrance, staying cooped up here would have been completely impossible.

Admittedly, in a town of this size, they were lucky to find any library at all. Perhaps the empire saw it as a future logistical point and prepared accordingly. The postmaster did say that it was supposed to be expanded soon.

"You aren't worried that Zhang Xiaogang will know we came here?" Linghui Mei asked, once the postmaster left them alone to peruse the stacks. "It's a small town. Rumors travel quickly."

"All he cares about is that we know enough about the Solar Whirligig to avoid pointless, ignorant conflict," Qian Shanyi replied, gently pushing on one of the shelves so it rolled all the way back to the right wall. "I don't see why the source of our knowledge should make any difference. If anything, it should make us seem careful and meticulous, which is to our benefit."

They quickly split up the work. Wang Yonghao and Linghui Mei picked out a couple books about the history and folklore of the Solar Whirligig - with the dinner coming up, they hoped some of it would help Wang Yonghao refresh his memories.

Qian Shanyi, meanwhile, buried herself in various sect records and the cultivator almanac. Neither of the other two were used to this kind of intense research work, whereas she had plenty of experience cross-referencing different financial documents. The information was a little outdated and incomplete, but the overall picture slowly started to come together.

A cultivator almanac was never supposed to stray far from the post office counter, but the postmaster had graciously allowed her to borrow it, as in this town, it was rarely in use. She still had to give it back if someone else needed it, which just made her wish they could have had the entire thing copied.

She'd been wishing that in every town they visited as of late. There was never enough time for anything more than a surface check, and they always needed to rush ahead, time always running out on invisible clocks, both real and imagined.

What she wanted was to have a full list of all cultivators in the entire Empire, one she could consult at her leisure. She had no doubts that multiple ministries had such lists and kept them up to date, but for their newly established sect to assemble one… They didn't even have the money to pay for copies of the almanacs in the towns they passed. Even if their funds had become a little freer these days, they still ran on a tight budget. She simply couldn't justify the expense, not when it would be mostly for convenience sake.

The almanac in front of her was particularly juicy - three thick tomes, each one multiple kilograms in weight. It was dedicated to the Fourfold Constellation City, the capital of the Solar Whirligig which laid on the other end of the sandpiercer line - but it also covered an area close to six hundred kilometers all around it, as well as hundreds of sects that lived there. On top of that, the Empire offered the tickets at half price to those who would allow themselves to be registered, and many of the cultivators heading to and from the Fourfold Constellation City had chosen to do so.

It would have been an invaluable source of information once they arrived, but needing to buy three separate tickets for the trip meant they simply couldn't afford it. There wasn't even a bank in town, so they couldn't dip any further into their credit line. Qian Shanyi simply had to content herself with her notes.

She was focused on drawing up a diagram of the five major sects of the Fourfold Constellation City when Wang Yonghao's cursing pulled her out of the zone. "Oh sweet mercy, I forgot that they were heavens-damned blood fetishists," he said, dismay plain in his voice.

He had been muttering for a while now, but indistinctly, just under his breath; Qian Shanyi had managed to tune him out.

"That's a slur, Yonghao," Qian Shanyi said, carefully setting her writing brush aside. She was almost finished with this page anyway, and it needed a bit of time to dry.

"Are you going to tell me I am wrong?" Wang Yonghao said, shaking the closed book for emphasis. "Look at this - half the damn book deals with their bloodlines!"

He tossed it carelessly onto their small table, and Qian Shanyi only just managed to snatch her inkwell and lift it before the impact could make it spill over. She gave Wang Yonghao a hateful glare, at which he winced slightly.

"No, you are probably right," Qian Shanyi continued when she was sure that the books were safe. She still set her inkwell down on the floor, into the corner of the room, where nothing could shake it. "But it's still a slur, so don't say it when we go talk to the honorable cultivator Zhang. We are trying to seem respectful."

Wang Yonghao grimaced, and leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. "Do we still have to go? I am starting to reconsider this entire expedition."

"We'll only be in the capital for a day, and then we will be off to meet the archeologists," Qian Shanyi grumbled. "You'll manage."

"Blood fetishist?" Linghui Mei asked, peeking over the top of her own book - some collection of tales for children. She was supposed to head to a tavern next, to ask for more personal news - but it was best to establish some foundational understanding first. "What does it mean?"

"A blood fetishist is a cultivator that cares too much about their ancestry, the purity of their bloodline, some special constitution that had been inherited in their family for generations, all that dreck," Qian Shanyi said, making a dismissive gesture. "It's common to insult them behind their back, and of course it's great fun, but if you do it to their face, you would be begging for a duel."

She glared at Wang Yonghao again, who just crossed his arms on his chest. With the expression on his face, Qian Shanyi wasn't so sure he'd even try to refuse such a challenge.

"But why do you want to insult them?"

"Because they are an embarrassment," Qian Shanyi said, turning back to Linghui Mei. She sneered slightly. "A man who proudly pronounces that his power comes from his bloodline is a man who admits his own effort is worthless. It's pathetic. To cultivate is to rebel against the Heavens, not to sit on the laurels of those who did it before you. It's only righteous that they would be humiliated by everyone around them."

Linghui Mei put down her book, listening attentively. This was just as important as knowing about the Solar Whirligig - if Zhang Xiaogang asked for her opinion, then it would be strange for an outer disciple to be ignorant of such things.

Qian Shanyi shook her head. "A hundred and fifty years ago, back when the clans still ruled, it would have been one thing, but now? Even if a sect has a bloodline constitution, as long as they have any sense, they will avoid bringing attention to it in public, for fear of looking weak." She turned back to Wang Yonghao. "Though I am somewhat surprised that you would care much."

Wang Yonghao groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Shanyi, you don't understand, they are so annoying," he said, his voice muffled slightly. "They are worse than mosquitoes. They are as if a mosquito had ascended into the nascent soul realm and decided to haunt every moment of your existence with its perpetual whining."

"I should think I do understand," Qian Shanyi said, inclining her head. "I knew… a couple of them back in the Golden Rabbit Bay."

They both came from the same family and insisted they were inner disciples of some sect from a faraway city. One of Qian Shanyi's friends had gone through the trouble of digging up the records, and their supposed sect had been dissolved decades ago; they had a small betting pool going on whether those two were just lying, or simply denying reality.

"No, you don't!" Wang Yonghao exclaimed, swinging his hand so wildly it hit one of the bookshelves. It shuddered, but nothing fell down. "Ugh, this - this might be my luck again, I don't know, but every time I meet one of them they get on my case. You can't just exist anywhere close, no, they have to know who your father is, and when I tell them I am an orphan, they get all pissy. And the less said about what they do when they lose a fight, the better."

"I suppose that would make sense. For everyone else, a loss is merely a matter of face and personal pride. For them it would be a matter of self-identity, of keeping the last scraps of their family standing."

"And you know what the most annoying part is? They are absolute trash in a fight," Wang Yonghao said, immediately violating his own promise not to speak of it. "I've fought more cultivators than I can remember, so I think I can be the judge. They are so bad. So they challenge me, lose pathetically, then go whine about it to their fathers, and then I can't get rid of the bastards. I once had one such family keep sending assassins after me for weeks. Weeks!" he leaned onto the table, and the wood squeaked in protest. "I swear, if I had two wishes, I would wish for the fucking blood fetishists to be gone from my life twice in a row."

Qian Shanyi waited patiently until Wang Yonghao finally ran out of steam. She wasn't too worried about his words - the thick walls of the library dampened the sound well, and he wasn't saying anything too suspicious, aside from the mention of his luck. Mostly she just wanted to see where he was going with this - he had been speaking with a degree of conviction that was rare on him.

"Yonghao, did something happen in Solar Whirligig?" Qian Shanyi said once he puttered out.

"Nothing big," Wang Yonghao grumbled, slumping in his chair. "I sat down to have a meal and one of them ran me out of the restaurant." He pinched his nose, speaking in a mocking, nasally voice. "Who is this dog that dared to take my seat? Do you even know how high the heavens are and how low the earth is? Kowtow to this daddy one hundred times and I will graciously forgive you -"

Qian Shanyi rolled her eyes at his antics. "You made that up."

"What, you think I am lying?"

"I know how good your memory is," Qian Shanyi said flatly. "There is absolutely no chance that you would remember what they said."

Wang Yonghao snorted dismissively. "Well, it was something like that. It's always the same thing with them."

"You didn't actually fight anyone, did you?"

Wang Yonghao shrugged. "No, I just left, even though I already paid. Couldn't find anything else to eat for another two days afterwards." He scowled, actually showing teeth. "What a bastard."

"Mmm," Qian Shanyi said, studying his face. "Well, it's not like you'll get many imperial cultivators disagreeing with you, at least younger than a hundred and fifty. Still, if Solar Whirligig is backwards like this…" She tapped her cheek, before nodding. "Okay. I need you to look me in the eyes and say - 'I disagree with those who valorate bloodlines, but I still respect their beliefs.'"

"I don't," Wang Yonghao said, scowling again. "I hate the fuckers. I hate them so much."

"So do I, but you'll still need to man up and lie about it. So, come on." Qian Shanyi motioned to his face impatiently. "Say the words."

"Ugh. Fine. I disagree with those who valorate bloodlines, but I still… respect their beliefs."

"Alright, excellent, now try it without looking like I made you eat a lemon."

"I disagree -"

Qian Shanyi rolled her eyes again. "Yeah, no," she cut Wang Yonghao off. "Look, just think about something nice. Imagine that you are talking to a rabbit. To Yihao."

Wang Yonghao's eyes had lost all emotion, much like those of a corpse. "I disagree with those who valorate bloodlines, but I still respect their beliefs," he said in a flat, monotone voice.

Qian Shanyi couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Alright, much better, but keep working on it," she said, then motioned to him. "But for now - shuffle over here, will you? Let's see if we can find that guy you've met before in the almanac."

Wang Yonghao tried to do that - but there was simply not enough space. Instead, he first had to exit the room entirely, and let Linghui Mei do so as well, before coming back in and taking her place at Qian Shanyi's side, so that they could look through the almanac tomes together.

"Yeah," he said, as they were flicking through the pages. "Could have been that one. Or… or this one. Or maybe… maybe this one, I don't know."

"Mmm," Qian Shanyi said, flipping back to his first suggestion. "Well, assuming your luck was involved, I'd bet on this man."

"Why him?"

"He's the son of the patriarch of one of the five largest sects in the Fourfold Constellation City. Only son, at that."

Wang Yonghao groaned again. With how he sounded, Qian Shanyi would have believed that he was about to be put under torture, not told that he'd have to visit a city where he mildly offended one clown.

"Just use the Crushing Glance, put on some makeup, you'll be fine," she said, patting his shoulder. "He probably won't even recognize you."

"Use what?"

"The… Crushing Glance of the Netherworld Eyes?" Qian Shanyi said, lifting her eyes from the almanac in confusion. "There's a scroll on our farm, surely you -"

Her eyes met Wang Yonghao's, and her confusion was reflected right back at her with such force that she stopped speaking entirely for a solid ten seconds. There was a strange feeling to it, as if as long as she said nothing, then the reality will twist away from materialising the conclusion she already reached within the confines of her own mind.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Or maybe it was the incense. It was hard to breathe properly in this place.

"You don't know the technique?" she finally said, pursing her lips.

Wang Yonghao shrugged. "I thought it was yours."

"I learned it from your notes!" Qian Shanyi hissed in mild outrage, before pinching the bridge of her nose. What kind of cultivator found a manual for a novel technique and didn't even try to learn it? It made no sense. Even for Wang Yonghao this was certainly something. "Well, I guess we know what you'll be doing tonight."

"What?"

"I'll teach you how to do it," she said, pushing the almanac away from her. The sect diagram had dried by now, and she set it aside as well, pulling a fresh sheet of paper out to continue with the next sect on her list. "It's stupidly simple, won't take you more than a day to master."

"I mean -" Wang Yonghao laughed nervously. "- no, come on, we aren't doing that."

"Why wouldn't we?" Qian Shanyi asked, looking back at him again. "If we change the shape of your eyes, the shade of your cheeks, the problem of old foes recognizing you will be so much easier to handle."

Frankly, they should have done this a long time ago. Wang Yonghao could still be recognised by his spiritual energy - there was no changing that - but as long as there was some doubt, they could make it work.

"How would I even learn it? Isn't it a yin technique?"

Qian Shanyi frowned. "No, it's natureless. Why are you so stubborn? This is the obvious thing to do."

Wang Yonghao turned away, which was quite an achievement, with him squeezed in between the table and the bookshelf behind his back. Qian Shanyi gave him a moment to collect himself, then poked him in the side when she started getting impatient.

"It's…" Wang Yonghao said quietly, before stopping, a blush coming onto his cheeks. "It's girly."

Qian Shanyi blinked twice, then pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. "Yonghao, for the sake of my sanity, tell me I misheard you."

Wang Yonghao said nothing, but Linghui Mei did begin to snigger.

"Seriously?" Qian Shanyi said, opening her eyes again to glare at the man. "I am not even asking you to wear lipstick, just line your eyes! I've seen hundred year old elders do that! Oh sweet mercy, why have the heavens cursed me with you?"

"Yeah, what a terrible curse it must be," Wang Yonghao replied, matching her glare with one of his own.

"Yonghao, you have two choices," Qian Shanyi said sweetly, raising two fingers. "Either you get over your irrational stubbornness, or I'll make fun of you until you do. Viciously. Are you sure you want me to do that?"

Wang Yonghao said nothing. His eyes, still staring into hers, radiated defiance.

Yet his throat still moved in a little nervous gulp.

The sandpiercer was an enormously complex device and demanded the work of dozens, if not hundreds of people - portsmen, craftsmen, maids, planners, and of course refiners and blacksmiths. The cargo had to be loaded and unloaded, wagons swept of dust and cleaned, the bedsheets in the passenger cars changed, and all the passengers had to be fed and taken care of - before and during their travel.

All of those people had to sleep, and to that effect, the Steel Torrent Sect built a small compound - dozens of houses set in a staggered grid, with narrow, twisting alleys in between them, full of wooden screens and baffles, that tried - and somewhat succeeded - to ward away the wind blown in from the sand-baked plateau. The wind brought with it dust - powder, really, one that covered everything and got absolutely everywhere. As long as there was even the slightest gust, that damnable dust became almost as omnipresent as the stench of sulfur.

The only saving grace was that the postmaster had warned them about the dust and even loaned them some head scarves to keep it out of their lungs. It still got into her fucking hair, covered her skin, stuck to the fabric of her robes, making it look as if she had rolled around in a sand pit like an oversized chinchilla.

It was little wonder that nobody chose to live here except for the sulfur miners and those who took care of the sandpiercers. This abominable town seemed almost innately hateful to all forms of human existence, and Qian Shanyi was starting to hate it right back.

"This way, please," Zhang Xiaogang said as he led them into the housing complex. His face was covered in a thin veil, which seemed like a far better idea than a mere scarf that only went up to her nose. Even his robes seemed to repel the dust - they must have been treated somehow. "My sister has already cooked us dinner in the Maliyad manner."

"It would certainly be nice to sample the cuisine," Qian Shanyi said, glancing at Zhang Xiaogang's incredibly toned ass. Was the design of his robes deliberate? It must have been, imperial robes weren't usually cut so tightly.

"She is an excellent cook, but in truth, it's so that you know what to expect," Zhang Xiaogang said. "I host dinners for cultivators who wish to travel every other day for that reason alone. If the cuisine does not suit you, it would be best to avoid our province."

"Mmm. As expected of the ministry of cooperation - you thought of everything."

Zhang Xiaogang turned around, giving Qian Shanyi a caring, almost wounded look. "I do not want you to think of this as coming from the ministry. It's merely hospitality, from one cultivator to another."

"How very humble," Qian Shanyi chuckled. The narcissistic part of her wanted to believe that it was because of her, but she could tell that he was just playing his role. "One can't help but note that it is one of your ministry's most praised virtues."

"Fellow cultivator Xing certainly seems to know a lot about us."

"I have read a book or two," she said, dodging the obvious question. "The cooperation of cultivators has always held my interest."

Zhang Xiaogang raised an eyebrow at her, but she didn't elaborate any further, so he turned to Wang Yonghao. "And what of you, fellow cultivator Wang?"

"I've found the path of cultivation to be a lonely one, fellow cultivator Zhang," Wang Yonghao said with a slight bow. They agreed that he would play the part of a loner - not that much playing was required. It should cut down on the questions he'd have to answer, at least a bit. "I can't say that I have had much cause to deal with your ministry."

Zhang Xiaogang nodded and briefly glanced at Linghui Mei, who was following behind them - but the jiuweihu didn't meet his eyes, and he said nothing. As she was playing the part of an outer disciple, it wouldn't be entirely proper for him to address her in the presence of inner disciples - at least, not without a reason. As far as everyone else was concerned, she was something of an attachment to them, a third hand or a particularly dextrous tail.

Soon, they stopped in front of a neat little house - two stories tall, white stone and a sharply slanted roof of stone tiles. The same stone as the plateau - a rather unavoidable architectural decision, since anything else would immediately become stained by the ever-present dust. It looked no different from every other house around them, aside from a little numbered sign on the front.

Zhang Xiaogang had pulled the door open with one hand, then bowed deeply to the three cultivators. "Please come in -"

He was interrupted by a scarlet blur that rushed out of the house and almost bawled him over.

"Oh brother, there you are!" said the blur, turning out to be a dark-skinned woman. She was dressed in a strange scarlet robe - a single loose piece of fabric that was wrapped around her in a complex way, tied off at the waist and leaving her arms and half of her navel open to the setting sun. She wore her wavy dark hair loose, and it danced all around her shoulders as she doted on Zhang Xiaogang, dusting off his shoulders and chest.

"You are so dusty, I thought you had gotten lost in the storm, how was your day -" The woman had spun around, only just noticing her company. She spoke so quickly that Zhang Xiaogang couldn't even say a word in between, and with a very slight accent - much smaller than that of Zhang Xiaogang himself. "Ah, and you brought our guests!"

Qian Shanyi bowed slightly, the sight of Zhang Xiaogang's predicament bringing a smile to her lips. "This here Xing Qiaoli is pleased -"

But she too was interrupted. The woman rushed over to her, and Qian Shanyi took an involuntary step back when hands reached for her. "Oh, fellow cultivator Xing, I love your hair!" the woman said, actually running her fingers through Qian Shanyi's disgusting dusty hair. Qian Shanyi's hand fell on the pommel of her sword out of sheer reflex at having a cultivator come so close to her face without a warning. "I am Svarggam Xiaochun, but please just call me Xiaochun, or even just Xiao. Can I call you Qiaoli?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, Qian Shanyi saw Zhang Xiaogang watching her like a hawk. Was this a stress test, just to see how she'd react? Was this normal in their bizarre province?

"If that is what you'd prefer, Xiao," Qian Shanyi said, plastering a big smile on her face. She patted Svarggam Xiaochun affectionately on the shoulder, forcing herself to relax.

"Eee!" Svarggam Xiaochun actually squealed, if quietly. "Thank you, thank you! We are going to be the best of friends!"

Wang Yonghao was watching Qian Shanyi as well, and she could tell that he was barely restraining himself from laughing. She would have glared at him, but it would have undermined the image she was trying to sell.

"This is my partner, Wang Shunwei," Qian Shanyi said instead, gesturing to the man, "but you may call him Ah Shunwei, or even just little Shunwei. And this is our outer disciple, Xue Mei."

Qian Shanyi had arranged for Wang Yonghao's pseudonym seals to be sent by voidbird directly to the Sparkling Sulfurium, and they had arrived without any problems. Keeping the same family name was something of a weakness, but Wang was the single most common name in the entire empire, and frankly, Qian Shanyi didn't trust Wang Yonghao to fake his natural reactions to a different name. If someone called after him and he didn't even react, it would be far too suspicious.

Svarggam Xiaochun blurred over to Wang Yonghao, and Qian Shanyi felt a little better watching him panic. "You look so stressed, little Shunwei!" Svarggam Xiaochun said, hugging him tightly. "Please do not be stressed, come in, come in. My brother can be so scary sometimes, but we are all friends here."

She quickly ushered them all inside the house. Beyond the entrance were a couple heavy, fluffy curtains that Qian Shanyi almost moved aside with her hands, before realising they were meant to rub the dust off her clothes, and simply pushed through them into a small, bare room. The floor in it was tiled, slanting ever so slightly towards the entrance, with a second set of heavy curtains concealing the rest of the house.

"Your brother has been quite kind to us," Qian Shanyi said, once everyone else had crowded into the room.

"I will never believe that," Svarggam Xiaochun said, shaking her hair furiously to dislodge the dust and pushing a burst of spiritual energy through all her pores to quickly clean her clothes. She had only been outside for a moment, so there wasn't much on her. "He must have told you some horror stories about our home already."

While she spoke, Zhang Xiaogang had taken off his veil and picked up a large feather duster, running it over his clothes to shake off the rest of the dust, before passing it to Qian Shanyi. Thanks to his treated robes, he was already pretty clean, so he was done right away.

"Not yet."

"Whaat?" Svarggam Xiaochun said, turning to Qian Shanyi with such open surprise on her face that even Qian Shanyi's incredibly paranoid nature couldn't help but trust her. Perhaps she really was this open. "He must have." She turned to Zhang Xiaogang, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Did you threaten them so much they won't even tell me?!"

"I did not tell them anything, Xiao."

"You lie! Or you've changed, but that's impossible for someone as stubborn as a rock, so you must be lying."

Qian Shanyi quickly figured out how to work the feather duster - you had to run it over you with just the right amount of pressure, flicking the dust down onto the floor without letting it fly up into the air - but no matter how she tried, there was so much dust that there was no way to get it all off. Her hair was even worse, the dust having pushed deep inside - even with the help of her spiritual energy she couldn't get all of it out. At least her robes were enchanted to clean themselves, so that part of the problem should solve itself.

Zhang Xiaogang sighed and pushed through the curtains into the house at large. "Xiao, I never tell those stories to anyone except you."

"Hmpf," Svarggam Xiaochun said, following after him, holding the curtains open with one hand. "How could you scare your little sister like that?! I couldn't sleep at all last time!"

"It's a wonder the heavens let you sleep at all," Zhang Xiaogang muttered under his breath.

"What was that?!"

"Nothing," Zhang Xiaogang said, turning around, and meeting Qian Shanyi's eyes through the curtain. He gestured somewhere to the side. "The dining room is just through here."

Qian Shanyi nodded. She was almost done with her robes, at least - but Wang Yonghao and Linghui Mei hadn't even started.

"I hope that at least the Solar Whirligig at large is free of all this accursed dust?" Qian Shanyi said, stepping into the dining room together with Linghui Mei. Wang Yonghao was almost done with cleaning himself, and Qian Shanyi wanted to sit down, so they left him alone.

The room was miraculously dust-free, with a long table taking up most of the room and carpets decorating the walls. The windows were small, closed up with shutters, and a talisman glued to the ceiling had cast stark shadows all across the walls.

"The capital mostly is, but if you head out into the countryside, it can get quite bad," Zhang Xiaogang said. He was already sitting down at the table, holding a cup of some strange dark drink that smelled like earth and chocolate. The steam above the cup almost shined in the talisman's light. "The sun and wind are merciless, unless you are high in the mountains."

"Just perfect," Qian Shanyi said, not entirely managing to keep her disgust out of her voice. "I suppose we'll all have to buy some veils."

"Where are you headed, Ah Qiaoli?" Svarggam Xiaochun said, coming into the room with a tall pitcher that smelled just like Zhang Xiaogang's drink and four more cups. "Oh please tell me it is in the mountains. We have the best mountains!"

Qian Shanyi got the distinct impression she would have clapped if her hands weren't already occupied.

"We are, actually," Qian Shanyi said, picking a seat right by Zhang Xiaogang's side. Linghui Mei followed after her quietly and took the next seat over. "There is an archeological site we'd like to visit. It should be only a couple days away, if we can rent some good horses."

"Horses?" Svarggam Xiaochun giggled, setting the pitcher down on the table. She glanced at Qian Shanyi meaningfully and poured her a cup. "No, no, you don't want horses, not in the mountains, they will break their legs. You want a Pakshi!" Her eyes suddenly lit up with excitement. "Oh! Why don't you come to visit our sect! We can show you around, you can even borrow some from our stables, then you won't have to pay -"

"Xiaochun!" Zhang Xiaogang cut her off, his cup making a sharp clack against the table as he set it down.

"Huh?"

"Oh come here!" he snapped, pulling her away to the kitchen - though from where Qian Shanyi and Lingui Mei sat, they could still see them. They started to argue, tones rising as Zhang Xiaogang berated his sister, though Qian Shanyi couldn't understand a single word. The most she could say was that Svarggam Xiaochun looked affronted and defensive, and seemed to give back as much as she got.

Fortunately, she had a disciple. She looked over at Linghui Mei expectantly. Even if her grasp of the language was rudimentary, it was far better than nothing.

<They are speaking really fast.> Linghui Mei signed to her, keeping her hands below the edge of the table. She signed <really> three times in a row. <I don't get most of it.>

<Summarise?>

Linghui Mei shrugged. <I think he's telling her to stay quiet. Something about a decision? That she shouldn't say these things before he decides if he'll even let us onto the train, maybe? And she is berating him for being unfriendly, but I don't understand exactly how or why.>

<Thank you,> Qian Shanyi signed back and picked her cup off the table, smelling the black drink inside it. The smell was really strong, nothing like the tea she was used to.

It was possible that this was all a performance for their benefit, but Qian Shanyi didn't think so. She was leaning far more to it being down to circumstance - perhaps Zhang Xiaogang had planned to use his sociable sister to test their reactions, but he clearly couldn't account for everything. If she had taken a liking to them, then perhaps they had found an unexpected ally - someone who could argue that they should get the tickets from within Zhang Xiaogang's own house.

If that was how it was. But someone who made friends this quickly could hardly be relied on, could they? Their attitude might turn around on a fen.

Wang Yonghao had finally arrived just as the argument between the siblings had started to wind down. He looked uncertainly at Qian Shanyi, but she waved him off. This wasn't a problem, at least not yet.

"Hmpf," Svarggam Xiaochun said, stomping back into the dining room. Whatever that argument was, she clearly didn't win it - but neither did she lose entirely, if her attitude was anything to judge. "My terrible brother -"

"Your normal brother," Zhang Xiaogang grumbled, coming in from behind her.

"-my terrible, horrible, no-good brother," Svarggam Xiaochun continued, raising her tone to speak over him. "Says I should just serve dinner. So please, take your seats."

She motioned to the table, and Wang Yonghao gratefully took his seat, followed by Zhang Xiaogang, still grumbling under his breath.

Qian Shanyi tapped a finger against her cheek while the dishes were brought in. That they kept their composure so far was auspicious, and Svarggam Xiaochun certainly presented an opportunity.

It just remained to be seen how the rest of the dinner would go.

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