Beware of chicken, p.34
Beware of Chicken, page 34
Xian stared at the hive for a bit longer, thinking deeply.
“Where did you learn that—I suppose it doesn’t matter. You start the hives this spring?” he asked.
“Yup. I can make you some if you want, Father.”
He chuckled. “I shall take you up on the offer. Just one or two for now, to see how they work.”
CHAPTER 47
OBSERVE
Gou Ren’s ass hurt.
It really hurt.
It really hurt, and he was bending over and sanding a floor, which added to his misery.
His ass hadn’t hurt this bad since his mother had caught him pilfering Father’s traps and claiming the pelts as his own catch, and that was half a decade ago.
Though he never would have expected it to be one of his friends administering punishment; it looked like Jin’s patience wasn’t so infinite after all. He supposed he kind of deserved it; he had been rather incessant in his jokes about Jin’s manhood.
The worst part was, though, he did feel a bit better after Jin had smacked him around with the branches.
He yawned as his arms continued moving, sanding the floor while his mind wandered. They had gotten things done extremely quickly yesterday, and even though he had worked so much, he still felt vigorous and ready for more. He had even been able to play a bit of Ha Qi with Chun Ke and his brother, and he still felt fine.
He idly wondered about his newfound energy. He rarely seemed to get tired anymore, even when he worked all day. Maybe Jin was onto something about the rice, but Gou Ren had mostly eaten brown rice before, so that couldn’t be that different. Or maybe it was the eggs and the vegetables that Jin occasionally gave them—the ones that tasted better than anything he had ever eaten. Was it because they were grown by a cultivator?
He didn’t know. Maybe he was just growing into his strength? Father said that young men were at their strongest in their early twenties, and he had just turned eighteen. Maybe that was it. He was growing up.
He finished sanding the section of the floor, and Bi De walked in. He nodded to the rooster, who used his wings to whip up a gust and sweep all the wood dust from the house.
Useful, he thought. All this Qi stuff was so useful. No wonder cultivators could sit around all day in the stories. He supposed that other people took care of it all—even with Qi, Jin was constantly busy.
And soon he would be too, working on the farm for Jin. His friend had kept his shack well maintained throughout the winter and told Gou Ren that he could have it, if he wanted some privacy. Gou Ren decided he might take Jin up on his offer, but Jin’s new house was so nice that a room in here would be just fine.
It would help that Meiling would be here. He liked Jin, he really did, but something would feel wrong without her around to patch up his cuts and scrapes. Yun Ren, on the other hand, would be at home. He and his brother had never been separated for more than a week, as far back as he could remember.
The thought was a bit uncomfortable. He couldn’t be feeling homesick already, he hadn’t even left yet!
Oh well, no second thoughts. He’d give it his all, like he always did. Besides, Hong Yaowu wasn’t that far away. A day and a bit. Less, if he could convince Chun Ke to give him a ride, and the boar—well, his friend, if he was being honest— was always agreeable.
He hit the other side of the room. It was the last pass, and it was probably near lunch. He ran his fingers along the smooth floor, making sure he hadn’t missed any spots. No splinters tugged at his fingers. He nodded to Bi De again, the rooster examining him in that creepy way chickens looked at people, before the bird nodded back and once more cleared out the dust.
He stretched and realised his back wasn’t as sore as he was expecting it to be after having been bent down for hours. He went to go find Jin. He met up with his brother, who had similarly finished upstairs. They nodded to each other and stepped out into the sun.
Jin and Elder Hong were preparing the lacquer and talking excitedly about bees, of all things. The only experience Gou Ren had with bees was finding the occasional wild nest. The captured hives that were used for medicine were completely off-limits.
Honey was delicious.
“We’re done with the floors,” Yun Ren called, and both Jin and Elder Hong looked surprised.
“Already?” Elder Hong asked. He looked a bit skeptical but didn’t question them at Gou Ren’s nod. After the pelt incident, he never lied about finishing work.
“Thanks. You guys can take a break, and I’ll finish lacquering the floors,” Jin said, looking impressed. “It’s still a few hours till noon, you guys are fast.”
Both Gou Ren and Yun Ren started in surprise. They really hadn’t been working for long, had they? Yun Ren was frowning but didn’t say much as they grabbed the Ha Qi sticks again. They had tried Jin’s bladed shoes—once. The footwear was too unwieldy, and Gou Ren preferred to run, even if Jin said the blades were how Ha Qi was meant to be played.
Before they went onto the ice, they turned around to look again at the house.
“Gods,” Yun Ren muttered, “sometimes I wish I was a girl, so someone would build me a house that nice.”
Gou Ren laughed. “You’re reedy enough for it, Little Brother.” The fact that Gou Ren was taller than his older brother was a bit of a sore spot. “Maybe some blind noble will mistake you for a girl?”
Yun Ren huffed. “You’re just mad I inherited all Mom’s good looks, monkey boy. But being a girl is too boring. I’ll just freeload here.”
Gou Ren shoved his brother for the monkey boy remark, and Yun Ren smacked the back of his knee with his stick.
And so began their Ha Qi game. Well, it was less of a game, and more just them tackling each other repeatedly and trying to keep a hold of the puck. There wasn’t even a token attempt at scoring.
They clashed, over and over, as they had done for years. Their sticks cracked together fiercely, pushing and shoving each other. Gou Ren was stronger, Yun Ren more wily and cunning. They weren’t truly trying to harm each other, just force the other one to submit.
They didn’t know how long they fought and feinted, as stopping was the only thing that meant defeat.
They were so engrossed in their game they didn’t notice they were being watched.
Until finally, they were interrupted by Jin.
“Mind if I join in?” he asked, his blades on his feet. The brothers paused in their battle, sizing up the interloper. The residual sting on each of their rear ends sealed the deal.
Me and my brother against my friend.
They struck as one. Their sticks flew through the air, and their bodies shoved at Jin as they sought to take the puck from him, but he was always one step ahead. He glided across the ice with grace, never taking his eyes off them, and foiling any attempt at a pincer attack.
Direct attacks failed. They pushed and shoved, but this time Jin didn’t budge. He just smirked and brushed them off, even on his unwieldy, bladed feet.
Gou Ren knew Jin let them push him whenever they normally played. It was a game, and he carefully controlled his strength and speed so that everyone could have some fun. But this time, he was pushing them. Taunting them.
What had started out as fun now had their full concentration. Gou Ren took a deep breath and settled himself. His brother did the same from beside him.
They nodded to each other. Even if Jin was a cultivator, they were going to take the puck at least once! They moved as fast as they could, trying to catch him, but Jin moved faster still, skating backwards leisurely and ducking around their blows.
Jin shoved Gou Ren off to the side, but Yun Ren came in like a comet, and they clashed; both spun off to the side, and Gou saw his brother’s eyes open fully, his exhale coming out in a steaming bellow.
His eyes briefly met his brother’s. The index finger of Yun Ren’s right hand crossed over his middle. Gou Ren nodded, the message received.
Gou Ren inhaled, breath filling his lungs. He and his brother lunged.
They pushed off from the ice, attacking from two separate angles. They concentrated, pushing themselves to the limit—
And then Yun Ren’s stick shattered. His concentration broken, Gou Ren tripped and careened along the ice, finally coming to a stop when he slammed into a snowdrift.
“Gods damn it, not again!” Yun Ren wailed. He threw the wood to the side in frustration. “Why does that keep happening!?”
“Because you’re a cultivator,” Jin said, an odd expression on his face. “Both of you.”
There was stunned silence, and all Yun Ren could do was gape. Gou Ren looked to his elder brother in confusion from his prone position, his head covered in snow. That can’t be right.
“This some kind of joke, Jin?!” Gou Ren asked, clambering out of the snowdrift.
Jin shrugged. “Well, maybe not cultivators yet … but breaking bows, lifting twenty floorboards, sanding a floor in minutes instead of hours … You’re using Qi for sure.”
“But shouldn’t we have felt it?” Yun Ren asked.
“You probably have been. You’ve been feeling pretty good lately, right? Lots of energy?”
The Xong brothers eyed each other. That did make sense …
“But shouldn’t it feel different?” Yun Ren asked. “Just feeling a bit more energetic is …
“Most people have to be taught how to feel their Qi. It’s a part of you. Can you feel your stomach digesting food? Your liver and kidneys doing their work? Sure, Qi is easier to feel than that, but …”
Jin sighed.
“Looks like you two are staying a bit longer than you originally planned. I’ll get you to the point where you don’t break things from uncontrolled Qi discharge, at least.”
CHAPTER 48
IGNITE
There was silence in the house.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Look inside yourself. Circulate your Qi.
Time passed. I was actually sitting down and meditating. At first, I tried using the lessons that had been taught to Rou. The very basics he had been taught by Gramps.
They weren’t working very well. I tried to do a Qi circulation like Rou’s memories told me how, yet my Qi refused to budge. Sure, it was moving—slowly. But when I tried to speed it up to the speed it was “supposed” to go, it was like pushing against a wall. Or a mountain.
In fact, when I tried to use anything that Rou had been taught, I got an odd twinge deep in my stomach, and then nothing.
I also had a rather severe feeling that if I tried to force the issue, things would get unpleasant.
So, I didn’t. I had no real desire to push it anyways; it was idle curiosity. So now I was just sitting around and trying to feel at peace …
…
Holy hell this is boring—
“How the hells do cultivators do this all day?!” Gou Ren finally exploded, mirroring my thoughts. “It’s so gods-damned boring!”
I laughed at Gou Ren’s annoyance, opening my eyes. Yun Ren opened his eyes as well, breathing out and stretching. He flopped over onto his back, irritated. It was just after breakfast, and we were already meditating. Up and at it first thing in the morning, trying to get a handle on their Qi. Lots and lots of boring meditation. I had thought I was through with it.
We were two days into this, and the Xong brothers were already getting fed up with trying to meditate to find their Qi. Rou’s memories told me that it would take a while to fully come to grips with one’s Qi using the method that Gramps—his Gramps had taught me. He had just called it “the basics” and it required a lot of meditating and centering yourself.
Techniques that didn’t seem to be working so well for either brother.
Father and Che had gone home after the revelation of the amount of the Xong brother’s Qi, though Xian looked unsurprised. They had their own things to do, the main thing being to prepare for the wedding. They couldn’t stay here and just watch the not-yet cultivators sit around.
Just having Qi alone didn’t make one a cultivator. A lot of people had Qi. I’d probably even go so far as to say everybody in this world had at least a little. People were a little bit hardier, faster, stronger, and more skilled than your average Joe back home. But that was all. Most people couldn’t do anything truly crazy.
There were … well, I hesitate to call them biological differences, between cultivators and “mortals,” but that was essentially what they were. First was the meridians. In your average person, they were so small they were nearly nonexistent. In a cultivator, those thin, tiny branches began to expand to accommodate the growing amount of Qi you possessed.
Essentially, they’d transform from something like capillaries to veins and arteries.
The second portion was the opening, or “ignition” of the dantian. Getting into the Initiate’s Realm was often called “The Lighting of The Golden Stove.” Again, in your average person, the dantian was basically a small pool of Qi. With the First Stage of the Initiate’s Realm, your dantian became something more.
Honestly, it was kind of like a fusion reactor. Hit critical mass of Qi in your dantian, and it starts a self-sustaining reaction. Or if you received some sort of revelation it would ignite, even if you didn’t have much Qi.
The Xong brothers’ dantians were starting to light. Like an engine backfiring, it flooded their systems, which was why their power was intermittent. And for the most part, it wasn’t actually increasing their strength. The bows and sticks breaking were from reinforcement overload; the wild, unconstrained Qi damaged the tools they were using when they got too excited.
“Well, let’s take a break,” I decided. “We have things to do. Big D, everyone ready to go?”
The rooster bowed his head. I grinned and stood. It was time.
The buckets and spigots were prepared, as were the firepits and cauldrons. It was the perfect cycle of temperatures. Above freezing during the day, and below freezing at night.
’Twas that most magnificent of times, the sugaring season.
We put on our winter clothes and began our trek into the forest, weighted down by both our supplies and a fish in a jar. The air was crisp and clean, and I was eager to get started. I could almost taste it.
The grove of the maples was as beautiful as it had been, even covered in snow, instead of flush with red.
I pressed my hand against the tree and let my Qi gently flow into it. Like with the Spirit Herbs, I was delicate, else I risked damaging it. I could feel the sap pumping, the lifeblood of the hundred-year-old maple coursing upwards as it started to wake from its winter rest.
I readied my hand drill, the bit just the right size.
“Now, the trick with this, as all things, is to do it in moderation,” I narrated for the benefit of my disciples. “If you go too deep, you can hurt the tree, and you won’t get anything if you kill it. A little hole like this won’t hurt the tree. We’ll give it some compost and patch up its wound later, as thanks for helping us out.”
The drill bit was coated with my Qi and bit into the tree swiftly, going no more than two inches under the bark.
I pulled out the bit—and the sap immediately began flowing. I moved fast, shoving the tap into the hole, no hammer required, and put the bucket underneath.
Some trees drip when tapped. Some produce a surprising stream. This one gushed. It sounded like a river had just been released.
I handed the hand drill to Yun Ren next.
And so, we tapped the trees. Big D precisely poked a hole with one of his talons and then bowed his head in respect. Tigger cut in with her claws. I didn’t see what Peppa did, but there was a neat little hole in the tree where she stood, and Chunky gently managed to push in the spigot. The only one who was left out was Washy, who leapt up to attach himself to one of the already-put-in taps.
Peppa caught him out of the air, then slapped him on the ground a couple of times for his cheek.
He grudgingly knocked in a tap with his tail, after I picked up his jar.
There were twenty trees in all, and by the time we got back to the first after about twenty minutes, the bucket was already almost full.
And now, for tradition.
A mug of the good stuff, straight from the tree. It was nearly ice cold. Everybody got a bit, though Chunky’s cup was closer to a trough.
Our cups clinked together, and we drank.
Hell yeah, that’s delicious. I almost preferred maple sap to maple syrup. Especially when it was this cold. A little sweet, a little woody. Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.
But there was one thing that having the trees basically pissing into your buckets was bad for. Rest. I was originally planning on getting the sap and then sending the Xong brothers off to meditate again, but right now we had to hustle, or else the buckets would overflow and spill out the sap onto the ground. We had to dump our hauls into a barrel I had, and then that went straight to the big ol’ cauldron. I kickstarted things with my secret “boil water” technique.
Truly a frightening and overpowered ability. Destroy mountains? Nah, I could easily clean my clothes and heat up baths.
The Xong brothers sat down when they could, but neither of them seemed to be able to muster the concentration to meditate.
Eventually, I started getting a little tired of keeping the sap boiling. So, we built a big old fire and went to bed.
We worked in shifts throughout the night to keep it going, as the sap stopped flowing.
We even had a little bit of syrup that night. We spread it out onto the snow, so it turned into a sticky, taffy-like substance.
I think I teared up a little when the sweet-savoury taste hit my tongue.
□
The next day was insane. It’s easy to underestimate just how much sap can come out of a tree from one small tap. The trees were producing so much of the stuff it was ridiculous. I had to keep checking that I hadn’t screwed up and was somehow hurting them. But as far as I could tell, they were just flowing like a river.
We filled up one cauldron—and then had to start collecting every damn pot, wok, and jar I had. There were little fire pits all over the place, and I was running out of storage.
“Where did you learn that—I suppose it doesn’t matter. You start the hives this spring?” he asked.
“Yup. I can make you some if you want, Father.”
He chuckled. “I shall take you up on the offer. Just one or two for now, to see how they work.”
CHAPTER 47
OBSERVE
Gou Ren’s ass hurt.
It really hurt.
It really hurt, and he was bending over and sanding a floor, which added to his misery.
His ass hadn’t hurt this bad since his mother had caught him pilfering Father’s traps and claiming the pelts as his own catch, and that was half a decade ago.
Though he never would have expected it to be one of his friends administering punishment; it looked like Jin’s patience wasn’t so infinite after all. He supposed he kind of deserved it; he had been rather incessant in his jokes about Jin’s manhood.
The worst part was, though, he did feel a bit better after Jin had smacked him around with the branches.
He yawned as his arms continued moving, sanding the floor while his mind wandered. They had gotten things done extremely quickly yesterday, and even though he had worked so much, he still felt vigorous and ready for more. He had even been able to play a bit of Ha Qi with Chun Ke and his brother, and he still felt fine.
He idly wondered about his newfound energy. He rarely seemed to get tired anymore, even when he worked all day. Maybe Jin was onto something about the rice, but Gou Ren had mostly eaten brown rice before, so that couldn’t be that different. Or maybe it was the eggs and the vegetables that Jin occasionally gave them—the ones that tasted better than anything he had ever eaten. Was it because they were grown by a cultivator?
He didn’t know. Maybe he was just growing into his strength? Father said that young men were at their strongest in their early twenties, and he had just turned eighteen. Maybe that was it. He was growing up.
He finished sanding the section of the floor, and Bi De walked in. He nodded to the rooster, who used his wings to whip up a gust and sweep all the wood dust from the house.
Useful, he thought. All this Qi stuff was so useful. No wonder cultivators could sit around all day in the stories. He supposed that other people took care of it all—even with Qi, Jin was constantly busy.
And soon he would be too, working on the farm for Jin. His friend had kept his shack well maintained throughout the winter and told Gou Ren that he could have it, if he wanted some privacy. Gou Ren decided he might take Jin up on his offer, but Jin’s new house was so nice that a room in here would be just fine.
It would help that Meiling would be here. He liked Jin, he really did, but something would feel wrong without her around to patch up his cuts and scrapes. Yun Ren, on the other hand, would be at home. He and his brother had never been separated for more than a week, as far back as he could remember.
The thought was a bit uncomfortable. He couldn’t be feeling homesick already, he hadn’t even left yet!
Oh well, no second thoughts. He’d give it his all, like he always did. Besides, Hong Yaowu wasn’t that far away. A day and a bit. Less, if he could convince Chun Ke to give him a ride, and the boar—well, his friend, if he was being honest— was always agreeable.
He hit the other side of the room. It was the last pass, and it was probably near lunch. He ran his fingers along the smooth floor, making sure he hadn’t missed any spots. No splinters tugged at his fingers. He nodded to Bi De again, the rooster examining him in that creepy way chickens looked at people, before the bird nodded back and once more cleared out the dust.
He stretched and realised his back wasn’t as sore as he was expecting it to be after having been bent down for hours. He went to go find Jin. He met up with his brother, who had similarly finished upstairs. They nodded to each other and stepped out into the sun.
Jin and Elder Hong were preparing the lacquer and talking excitedly about bees, of all things. The only experience Gou Ren had with bees was finding the occasional wild nest. The captured hives that were used for medicine were completely off-limits.
Honey was delicious.
“We’re done with the floors,” Yun Ren called, and both Jin and Elder Hong looked surprised.
“Already?” Elder Hong asked. He looked a bit skeptical but didn’t question them at Gou Ren’s nod. After the pelt incident, he never lied about finishing work.
“Thanks. You guys can take a break, and I’ll finish lacquering the floors,” Jin said, looking impressed. “It’s still a few hours till noon, you guys are fast.”
Both Gou Ren and Yun Ren started in surprise. They really hadn’t been working for long, had they? Yun Ren was frowning but didn’t say much as they grabbed the Ha Qi sticks again. They had tried Jin’s bladed shoes—once. The footwear was too unwieldy, and Gou Ren preferred to run, even if Jin said the blades were how Ha Qi was meant to be played.
Before they went onto the ice, they turned around to look again at the house.
“Gods,” Yun Ren muttered, “sometimes I wish I was a girl, so someone would build me a house that nice.”
Gou Ren laughed. “You’re reedy enough for it, Little Brother.” The fact that Gou Ren was taller than his older brother was a bit of a sore spot. “Maybe some blind noble will mistake you for a girl?”
Yun Ren huffed. “You’re just mad I inherited all Mom’s good looks, monkey boy. But being a girl is too boring. I’ll just freeload here.”
Gou Ren shoved his brother for the monkey boy remark, and Yun Ren smacked the back of his knee with his stick.
And so began their Ha Qi game. Well, it was less of a game, and more just them tackling each other repeatedly and trying to keep a hold of the puck. There wasn’t even a token attempt at scoring.
They clashed, over and over, as they had done for years. Their sticks cracked together fiercely, pushing and shoving each other. Gou Ren was stronger, Yun Ren more wily and cunning. They weren’t truly trying to harm each other, just force the other one to submit.
They didn’t know how long they fought and feinted, as stopping was the only thing that meant defeat.
They were so engrossed in their game they didn’t notice they were being watched.
Until finally, they were interrupted by Jin.
“Mind if I join in?” he asked, his blades on his feet. The brothers paused in their battle, sizing up the interloper. The residual sting on each of their rear ends sealed the deal.
Me and my brother against my friend.
They struck as one. Their sticks flew through the air, and their bodies shoved at Jin as they sought to take the puck from him, but he was always one step ahead. He glided across the ice with grace, never taking his eyes off them, and foiling any attempt at a pincer attack.
Direct attacks failed. They pushed and shoved, but this time Jin didn’t budge. He just smirked and brushed them off, even on his unwieldy, bladed feet.
Gou Ren knew Jin let them push him whenever they normally played. It was a game, and he carefully controlled his strength and speed so that everyone could have some fun. But this time, he was pushing them. Taunting them.
What had started out as fun now had their full concentration. Gou Ren took a deep breath and settled himself. His brother did the same from beside him.
They nodded to each other. Even if Jin was a cultivator, they were going to take the puck at least once! They moved as fast as they could, trying to catch him, but Jin moved faster still, skating backwards leisurely and ducking around their blows.
Jin shoved Gou Ren off to the side, but Yun Ren came in like a comet, and they clashed; both spun off to the side, and Gou saw his brother’s eyes open fully, his exhale coming out in a steaming bellow.
His eyes briefly met his brother’s. The index finger of Yun Ren’s right hand crossed over his middle. Gou Ren nodded, the message received.
Gou Ren inhaled, breath filling his lungs. He and his brother lunged.
They pushed off from the ice, attacking from two separate angles. They concentrated, pushing themselves to the limit—
And then Yun Ren’s stick shattered. His concentration broken, Gou Ren tripped and careened along the ice, finally coming to a stop when he slammed into a snowdrift.
“Gods damn it, not again!” Yun Ren wailed. He threw the wood to the side in frustration. “Why does that keep happening!?”
“Because you’re a cultivator,” Jin said, an odd expression on his face. “Both of you.”
There was stunned silence, and all Yun Ren could do was gape. Gou Ren looked to his elder brother in confusion from his prone position, his head covered in snow. That can’t be right.
“This some kind of joke, Jin?!” Gou Ren asked, clambering out of the snowdrift.
Jin shrugged. “Well, maybe not cultivators yet … but breaking bows, lifting twenty floorboards, sanding a floor in minutes instead of hours … You’re using Qi for sure.”
“But shouldn’t we have felt it?” Yun Ren asked.
“You probably have been. You’ve been feeling pretty good lately, right? Lots of energy?”
The Xong brothers eyed each other. That did make sense …
“But shouldn’t it feel different?” Yun Ren asked. “Just feeling a bit more energetic is …
“Most people have to be taught how to feel their Qi. It’s a part of you. Can you feel your stomach digesting food? Your liver and kidneys doing their work? Sure, Qi is easier to feel than that, but …”
Jin sighed.
“Looks like you two are staying a bit longer than you originally planned. I’ll get you to the point where you don’t break things from uncontrolled Qi discharge, at least.”
CHAPTER 48
IGNITE
There was silence in the house.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Look inside yourself. Circulate your Qi.
Time passed. I was actually sitting down and meditating. At first, I tried using the lessons that had been taught to Rou. The very basics he had been taught by Gramps.
They weren’t working very well. I tried to do a Qi circulation like Rou’s memories told me how, yet my Qi refused to budge. Sure, it was moving—slowly. But when I tried to speed it up to the speed it was “supposed” to go, it was like pushing against a wall. Or a mountain.
In fact, when I tried to use anything that Rou had been taught, I got an odd twinge deep in my stomach, and then nothing.
I also had a rather severe feeling that if I tried to force the issue, things would get unpleasant.
So, I didn’t. I had no real desire to push it anyways; it was idle curiosity. So now I was just sitting around and trying to feel at peace …
…
Holy hell this is boring—
“How the hells do cultivators do this all day?!” Gou Ren finally exploded, mirroring my thoughts. “It’s so gods-damned boring!”
I laughed at Gou Ren’s annoyance, opening my eyes. Yun Ren opened his eyes as well, breathing out and stretching. He flopped over onto his back, irritated. It was just after breakfast, and we were already meditating. Up and at it first thing in the morning, trying to get a handle on their Qi. Lots and lots of boring meditation. I had thought I was through with it.
We were two days into this, and the Xong brothers were already getting fed up with trying to meditate to find their Qi. Rou’s memories told me that it would take a while to fully come to grips with one’s Qi using the method that Gramps—his Gramps had taught me. He had just called it “the basics” and it required a lot of meditating and centering yourself.
Techniques that didn’t seem to be working so well for either brother.
Father and Che had gone home after the revelation of the amount of the Xong brother’s Qi, though Xian looked unsurprised. They had their own things to do, the main thing being to prepare for the wedding. They couldn’t stay here and just watch the not-yet cultivators sit around.
Just having Qi alone didn’t make one a cultivator. A lot of people had Qi. I’d probably even go so far as to say everybody in this world had at least a little. People were a little bit hardier, faster, stronger, and more skilled than your average Joe back home. But that was all. Most people couldn’t do anything truly crazy.
There were … well, I hesitate to call them biological differences, between cultivators and “mortals,” but that was essentially what they were. First was the meridians. In your average person, they were so small they were nearly nonexistent. In a cultivator, those thin, tiny branches began to expand to accommodate the growing amount of Qi you possessed.
Essentially, they’d transform from something like capillaries to veins and arteries.
The second portion was the opening, or “ignition” of the dantian. Getting into the Initiate’s Realm was often called “The Lighting of The Golden Stove.” Again, in your average person, the dantian was basically a small pool of Qi. With the First Stage of the Initiate’s Realm, your dantian became something more.
Honestly, it was kind of like a fusion reactor. Hit critical mass of Qi in your dantian, and it starts a self-sustaining reaction. Or if you received some sort of revelation it would ignite, even if you didn’t have much Qi.
The Xong brothers’ dantians were starting to light. Like an engine backfiring, it flooded their systems, which was why their power was intermittent. And for the most part, it wasn’t actually increasing their strength. The bows and sticks breaking were from reinforcement overload; the wild, unconstrained Qi damaged the tools they were using when they got too excited.
“Well, let’s take a break,” I decided. “We have things to do. Big D, everyone ready to go?”
The rooster bowed his head. I grinned and stood. It was time.
The buckets and spigots were prepared, as were the firepits and cauldrons. It was the perfect cycle of temperatures. Above freezing during the day, and below freezing at night.
’Twas that most magnificent of times, the sugaring season.
We put on our winter clothes and began our trek into the forest, weighted down by both our supplies and a fish in a jar. The air was crisp and clean, and I was eager to get started. I could almost taste it.
The grove of the maples was as beautiful as it had been, even covered in snow, instead of flush with red.
I pressed my hand against the tree and let my Qi gently flow into it. Like with the Spirit Herbs, I was delicate, else I risked damaging it. I could feel the sap pumping, the lifeblood of the hundred-year-old maple coursing upwards as it started to wake from its winter rest.
I readied my hand drill, the bit just the right size.
“Now, the trick with this, as all things, is to do it in moderation,” I narrated for the benefit of my disciples. “If you go too deep, you can hurt the tree, and you won’t get anything if you kill it. A little hole like this won’t hurt the tree. We’ll give it some compost and patch up its wound later, as thanks for helping us out.”
The drill bit was coated with my Qi and bit into the tree swiftly, going no more than two inches under the bark.
I pulled out the bit—and the sap immediately began flowing. I moved fast, shoving the tap into the hole, no hammer required, and put the bucket underneath.
Some trees drip when tapped. Some produce a surprising stream. This one gushed. It sounded like a river had just been released.
I handed the hand drill to Yun Ren next.
And so, we tapped the trees. Big D precisely poked a hole with one of his talons and then bowed his head in respect. Tigger cut in with her claws. I didn’t see what Peppa did, but there was a neat little hole in the tree where she stood, and Chunky gently managed to push in the spigot. The only one who was left out was Washy, who leapt up to attach himself to one of the already-put-in taps.
Peppa caught him out of the air, then slapped him on the ground a couple of times for his cheek.
He grudgingly knocked in a tap with his tail, after I picked up his jar.
There were twenty trees in all, and by the time we got back to the first after about twenty minutes, the bucket was already almost full.
And now, for tradition.
A mug of the good stuff, straight from the tree. It was nearly ice cold. Everybody got a bit, though Chunky’s cup was closer to a trough.
Our cups clinked together, and we drank.
Hell yeah, that’s delicious. I almost preferred maple sap to maple syrup. Especially when it was this cold. A little sweet, a little woody. Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.
But there was one thing that having the trees basically pissing into your buckets was bad for. Rest. I was originally planning on getting the sap and then sending the Xong brothers off to meditate again, but right now we had to hustle, or else the buckets would overflow and spill out the sap onto the ground. We had to dump our hauls into a barrel I had, and then that went straight to the big ol’ cauldron. I kickstarted things with my secret “boil water” technique.
Truly a frightening and overpowered ability. Destroy mountains? Nah, I could easily clean my clothes and heat up baths.
The Xong brothers sat down when they could, but neither of them seemed to be able to muster the concentration to meditate.
Eventually, I started getting a little tired of keeping the sap boiling. So, we built a big old fire and went to bed.
We worked in shifts throughout the night to keep it going, as the sap stopped flowing.
We even had a little bit of syrup that night. We spread it out onto the snow, so it turned into a sticky, taffy-like substance.
I think I teared up a little when the sweet-savoury taste hit my tongue.
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The next day was insane. It’s easy to underestimate just how much sap can come out of a tree from one small tap. The trees were producing so much of the stuff it was ridiculous. I had to keep checking that I hadn’t screwed up and was somehow hurting them. But as far as I could tell, they were just flowing like a river.
We filled up one cauldron—and then had to start collecting every damn pot, wok, and jar I had. There were little fire pits all over the place, and I was running out of storage.
