Wu Ying needed very little time to find Bao Cong. To Wu Ying’s lack of surprise, Bao Cong was standing beside a forge, working a newly formed sword. In a pause between strokes, Bao Cong looked at Wu Ying and flicked his gaze to the bellows. Taking the unspoken hint, Wu Yang walked over and worked the bellows. In silence, they worked together for the next hour, Bao Cong focused on creating a couple more weapon blades while Wu Ying helped in the stoking of the fire, moving pieces around, and generally staying out of the way. It was work that Wu Ying fondly remembered.
In time, they were done, Bao Cong having finished his work. When Bao Cong gestured to Wu Ying to bank the fires, Wu Ying gratefully stopped working the bellows before wiping away the built-up sweat.
“What is it that you want?” said Bao Cong.
“What makes you think I want anything?” Wu Ying trotted over to the water flask and took a sip, feeling the blessed liquid flow down his throat. Even lukewarm, the water was heavenly after the oppressive heat.
“When was the last time you were here?”
Wu Ying bristled, angry because the comment was unfortunately true. He had not been back since he left the class. It was not because he disliked any of the blacksmiths. He was just too busy to spend time socializing—especially in such an inhospitable location. “Fine. I have a request for you.”
“Don’t bother. I won’t make you anything,” said Bao Cong. The forger continued to put away his tools.
Wu Ying soon joined him, cleaning the forge and getting it ready for the next apprentice blacksmith. “I’m not asking you to forge me anything.”
Wu Ying’s gaze flipped over to the daos, ready to be sharpened tomorrow. They were decent work. Better than anything Wu Ying could make. But nowhere near the level of a master blacksmith or even a journeyman.
Bao Cong saw Wu Ying’s gaze and shrugged angrily before returning to his cleaning. Working together, they soon had the forge in a condition that would be acceptable to hand over to another. When they finished, they walked out of the blacksmiths hall and stopped the moment the cold winter air hit their sweaty bodies. They shuddered in unison before Bao Cong turned to Wu Ying.
“If you’re not here for me to make you something, what you want?” Bao Cong asked.
“I need to leave the Sect for an assignment. My own. It may be dangerous, and I might need some other hands. Hands that know how to handle themselves in a fight,” said Wu Ying. “You are good with your bow, aren’t you?”
“You know I am.” Bao Cong smirked as they recalled the multiple times Bao Cong had managed to hit Wu Ying and other cultivators in the melees. Those had stopped ever since the martial specialists left. The Sect no longer had time or personnel to dedicate to that kind of training.
“Good.” Wu Ying gave a brief explanation of what he intended and expected of Bao Cong. A trip near the front lines, but not to the war itself. Potential assignment by an anxious Lord. An unknown amount of time away from the Sect. And the potential for violent confrontations.
“Well, I can see why you need me. Can’t take a Body cultivator out of the Sect, so you’ve only got me and a few others to choose from. No martial specialists would be allowed to go with you, not at this time. But I see no reason for me to join you.”
“What do you want?”
Bao Cong looked back at the building they had left. He tapped his lips then dropped his hands to stroke the top of his sect seal, the one that recorded their contribution to the sect and gave them points for it. “Blacksmithing is very expensive in the beginning.”
“Money?” Wu Ying grimaced. That was one of the few things he could not offer. Then his gaze slipped to the sect token. “You want contribution points.”
In the sect, contribution points were just as good as taels. You could use them to buy manuals from the library, pills and herbs from the apothecarist shop, new weapons and armor from the Blacksmithing Hall, and materials from the general store.
“Contribution points or materials.” Bao Cong’s eyes narrowed at Wu Ying, then he clarified his statement. “Just make it contribution points.”
“Five hundred contribution points now and a hundred a month every month for the next two years,” said Wu Ying. That would allow Bao Cong to work in the forges rent free once a week every month.
“Nothing now. One hundred every month for three years.”
Wu Ying’s regarded Bao Cong, considering the counter. That was a lot better than a lump sum payment, since Wu Ying was rather low on points. He had a reserve of course, but that was for the village. On the other hand, three years…
“Why don’t I buy you a drink and we can discuss this?” Wu Ying smiled at Bao Cong.
Wu Ying had seen the Chieftain do this many times. Drink with those he negotiated with to get a better deal. His father hadn’t, but then again, his father had left most of those negotiations to his mother. Even if Wu Ying had never tried the drink-and-negotiate method, how hard could it be?
Bao Cong smiled widely at Wu Ying, clapping the cultivator on the shoulder and leading him up the path.
***
Wu Ying woke the next morning with the taste of dead frogs in his mouth. He rolled over while grimacing and only realized his mistake when he fell. He never managed to catch himself before he landed on the floor, bruising his shoulder. As he turned sideways on the marble, Wu Ying noticed the couch he had been sleeping on. It was a nice couch—and a familiar one too. Mother of pearl inlaid along rosewood furniture, depicting the local scenery around some village. It was the couch in his visiting room, the place where he would greet formal guests. It was not, obviously, his bed.
As he stood, Wu Ying took notice of the throbbing pain in his head. Ah Yee walked in with her serving tray containing his herbal supplement and a tea set. Wu Ying’s stomach heaved at the small amounts of noxious fumes that arose from the herbal supplement.
“Not today,” Wu Ying whined.
“What you are feeling will be extracted if you drink this. Short-term discomfort for a long-term benefit.” Ah Yee placed the tray on the serving table and opened the clay bowl.
Wu Ying’s stomach lurched again, and he held a hand to his face, turning green as he choked down vomit. “I don’t think—”
“You faced down a taotei. Is a simple drink enough to send you running?” Ah Yee scolded Wu Ying.
Shamed by his servant, Wu Ying took hold of the concoction, then while holding his nose, he choked down the entire slurry. He gasped as he slammed the bowl down and grabbed the teacup Ah Yee offered him. As he poured the hot tea into his mouth, he burnt his tongue and throat a little, but thankfully, it washed away some of the taste. Tea didn’t help with the pain, or his stomach, but at least he could focus a little.
Ah Yee picked up the tray and its contents, leaving behind the teapot and teacup as she exited. Wu Ying sat down and tried to meditate, forcing himself to ignore his roiling stomach and the pounding in his head, the glare from the sunlight. In minutes though, the feeling grew too large to be ignored and he rushed for the outhouse. At least, as Wu Ying bent over to expel the fluids, this would be good training for his Reinforced Iron Bones technique.
***
An hour later, cleaner and more alive, Wu Yang made his way out to discover if Li Yao had returned. Unfortunately, her house servant indicated that she had not, sniffing disapprovingly at Wu Ying as he usually did before sending the peasant away. Just to assure himself, Wu Ying stopped at the assignment hall and verified that Li Yao was meant to have returned already. Concern over her grew, mixing with the worry he had for his family and the future.
Since he was there, Wu Ying made sure to inform the Hall that he would be gone for an undetermined period. He made sure that they deducted the necessary contribution points he owed the Sect for a six-month period, while taking the contribution pills that they owed him for that period. At the end, all his hard work, all his savings over the last few months, even the rewards from the expedition, was gone. Almost.