“Interesting,” Elder Huang said.
Before he could speak further, a boy ran up to Elder Huang with a bamboo slip.
The Elder gave it a quick glance before he nodded. “You and three others have passed the test.”
“Three?” Wu Ying said with a frown. Yin Xue was the only one who had been ahead of him.
“Yes. The other two stumbled to the paifang just in time,” Elder Huang said. “Useless. Even when they carried less. It is a waste to let them stay, but I guess I have no choice or else Elder Lin will complain again.” The last was said with a mutter. Realizing Wu Ying was still there, Elder Huang pointed. “Wash yourself at the well then come inside. As you have just arrived, you will eat here for now. I am sure someone will show you the way.”
Wu Ying smiled gratefully, though he found he could not even move to do as Elder Huang said.
As the Elder turned away, he glanced back at Wu Ying. “Come back tomorrow morning. Since you like carrying bags so much, I will make use of you. We need to increase our stock with the new arrivals.”
Once the Elder was gone, only then did Wu Ying let out a groan. More bags. His aching body was definitely going to hate him. Why had he had to carry all nine bags? It seemed that the Elder did not care.
Muttering about the unfairness of it all, Wu Ying rolled onto his side and worked himself to his feet. He might as well get cleaned and fed. As he slowly made his way up, he noted one of the other’s who had started the journey with him just coming around the corner.
Chapter 6
Another day, another bag. Over the last two weeks, Wu Ying had spent every day from morning to evening running bags of rice, wheat, mung beans, and other sundries up the mountain. Once he had achieved the same timeframe as the other coolies, the dock supervisor had started loading Wu Ying with even more bags. When he protested, the cultivator had been informed that this was under orders of Elder Huang. At that point, all his objections faded away.
After that evening when Wu Ying had basically crashed on the floor of the dining room, Senior Liu Tong had found him the next day and shown him to his quarters. That it was but a small room with barely space for the wooden bed and a wooden chest for his clothing was testament to how low he stood on the totem pole. Of course, to Wu Ying, that amount of space was more than sufficient—it might be a little smaller than the room he’d had at home, but not by much.
From that day on, Wu Ying had been left to run errands for Elder Huang, with even less on-going guidance on his cultivation than when he was a villager. Admittedly, Wu Ying found that the guidance Elder Huang did provide was much more pointed and insightful, helping him reinforce his current cultivation significantly.
Still, Wu Ying thought as he eyed the fading sunlight and trotted up the stairs, seven bags of vittles on his back, it would be nice to receive some form of formal guidance. As he passed another poor recruit, Wu Ying could not help but smile slightly at the exclamations of surprise when they caught sight of his burden.
To Wu Ying’s surprise, the particular chore set by Fairy Yang had actually been part of the recruitment requirements. Conversations with his Seniors had enlightened Wu Ying further. Politics within the sect was even more convoluted than he had expected. Every Elder—every cultivator who had achieved a Core—could nominate up to three recruits for the sect. But because the actual number of slots available varied from year to year, the recruits were put through various tests. Luckily, this year, a higher-than-normal number of injuries and lazy or slow cultivators had been trimmed, leaving only a small number required to be cut. Elder Huang, as the least senior Elder, had been tasked with the work of cutting all those who did not meet the sect’s standards.
“Hurry up. I don’t want to be late,” a new sect applicant said, his voice dripping with scorn. In front of him, a trio of coolies struggled under the added weight of the rice bags the noble had placed on their backs. Wu Ying idly wondered what he had paid the coolies – or even if he had. Few commoners would dare object to such a request from a cultivator.
Wu Ying said nothing as he leap-frogged the group, keeping to his slow jog as he let his chi churn through his body. The sect’s standards were different than what he had expected. Cheating was expected, even encouraged to some degree. Each guide’s initial order to bring the bags up were worded vaguely enough that cultivators could—and did—find ways around it. After all, cultivation required not only discipline but insight, craftiness, and luck. So long as the cultivator managed to make his way to the sect with his bag, he passed. Well, so long as he did that and had a strong enough backer.
“Wu Ying. Fifth load of the day. I expect you’ll be getting another bag tomorrow.” The gatekeeper chuckled.
“Elder Lu. Please don’t joke about such things,” Wu Ying said as he slowed down and released his cultivation. Perhaps the greatest progress he had made was the speed with which he could shift from cultivating on the move to normal interactions.
“Who is joking? Elder Huang is a real believer in hard work.” Seated cross-legged on his stool, the gatekeeper drew on his long pipe again.
“This is for you, Elder,” Wu Ying said as he reached behind him and untied the bag. He handed the roll of tobacco to Xi Qi that he had been entrusted to carry from one of the ship’s captain. Xi Qi smiled upon receiving the package, stroking the wrapping like a lover.
Once again, Wu Ying wondered about the gatekeeper. Even to his new senses, Wu Ying could tell that Xi Qi was more than a lazy old man. Yet he never cultivated and insisted on constantly polluting his body with smoke. But as Wu Ying was learning, everyone in the sect had their own secrets. And vices.
“Chen family tobacco. Only two catties are ever sold to outsiders.” Xi Qi sniffed at the package reverently. “Well? You best be off.”
“Yes, Elder.” Wu Ying bobbed his head and took off running once more.
When Wu Ying had set down his bag and was stretching tired muscles, Elder Huang found him.
“Wu Ying. I heard you did five loads today,” Elder Huang said.
“Yes, Elder.”
“Good. Very good. Pity that I have to give you up, but today is the last day I’ll have you for the whole day,” Elder Huang said. “Tomorrow, you’ll begin your studies in the mornings. But I expect you here in the afternoons. Understand?”
“Yes, Elder Huang,” Wu Ying replied, trying desperately to keep his face smooth.
“There should be enough time for one more load. Go,” Elder Huang said, pointing.
Wu Ying winced, knowing there was no way he would make it back before dark. And climbing the hill in the dark was a painful experience. Obviously he had not been successful at keeping his elation hidden.
There were more newcomers than Wu Ying expected. Sure, he had seen the various recruits arrive over the last two weeks, but seeing them all gathered in the large courtyard, the amount of them struck home in a way that seeing them dribble in had not. There were easily at least fifty recruits in the courtyard, some socializing, others going through a slow stretching routine.
“Damn. All these nobles,” a voice muttered behind Wu Ying, causing him to turn to stare at the speaker. He blinked, seeing a bald, short individual in bright orange Buddhist monk robes. Seeing Wu Ying looking at him, the monk returned Wu Ying’s scrutiny by looking him up and down. “You’re not one of them, are you?”
“No. But what are you doing here?” Wu Ying said with incredulity. It made no sense for a monk to be in the sect—their objectives were rather different.
“Oh, my Teacher sent me here after I was kicked out,” the monk said, rubbing the top of his head. The baby-faced monk flashed Wu Ying an innocent smile, one without an ounce of deceit in it. Clasping his hands in front of him, the monk bowed. “Liu Tou He.”