This Venerable Demon is Grossly Unqualified

Su Li simply walked through the courtyard, into the open door to the house proper. Like she had a purpose in being here. It was easier, than talking to strangers.

Su Li wasn’t sure what she had expected from Fang Xiao’s manor, but it definitely wasn’t this. The man simply did not own furniture. Elder Hu’s home was barren, but at least, he had art. Painting and prints were plastered over every wall of his own compound. And he at least was notorious for never hosting guests, so only having a single table and a pair of chairs made sense. Fang Xiao on the other hand, didn’t even have the chairs. Or perhaps he did, but someone had relocated them.

What Fang Xiao did have were weapons. Lots of weapons. Halberds decorated the walls, swords lay cast about the floor, pushed to the outer edges of the room to make room for guests without a fear in the world of theft. From the corner of her eye she could see one room that was totally empty, except for a pill furnace sitting in its center, and a few chests and tables around the edges. Another was barred by a pair of crossed glaives propped against the doorframe, and appeared empty save for a qi-gathering formation set down in the center.

Her stomach churned, seeing the sheer gulf in wealth between her and Fang Xiao. He clearly wanted for nothing, even without a master, the sect lavished him with resources. All because he’d blown through Qi Condensation in two years and barely slowed down in Foundation Establishment. What were a few spirit stones here or there when he was expected to achieve core formation in his thirties?

A single large table dominated the foyer, laden with plates of delicious smelling food. Pan fried trout, sticky rice-flour dumplings, even a great tureen of chicken soup that smelled of ginger and spring onions. Disciples flitted about like birds, stopping by to refill their plates before rejoining their peers sitting or standing about the empty room. And a massive disciple stood beside the line table, exhorting the guests to eat his food.

The heavens had their Kitchen God, down here on earth they had the Kitchen Tyrant, Qian Min. Was that blasphemy to think? Su Li had no idea what was and was not blasphemy any more, living amongst demons had thoroughly warped her understanding of theology. Su Li had never had much cause to interact with Qian Min, but she’d seen what a terror he was in the sparring fields. Despite eschewing weapons, his sheer power left him a force to be reckoned with amongst the outer disciples. And apparently, he did catering. She knew he loved to cook, it was practically all he talked about, but she didn’t think his pride would allow him to bend enough to cook for another’s event.

She supposed one did not say no if Fang Xiao asked.

“Disciple Su! Come try some soup, put some meat on those skinny bones!” He greeted her boisterously. She was surprised that he knew her name. He was half a dozen years, and at least three small realms her senior.

"Thank you, Senior Qian." She said, inclining her head in a small bow. The soup did smell wonderful. She hadn’t eaten all day.

"Quite the gathering Senior Fang has put together. Be sure you get some of those dumplings too, they're great dipped in the soup. Who needs soup dumplings when you've got dumplings in your soup, eh?"

"They look excellent." She ladled some of the soup into her bowl, watching the thin strands of egg twirl about the bowl. She added a few dumplings, watching them bob in the broth like ducks in a pond. They looked like happy little dumplings. She couldn’t wait to eat them.

"I must say, I do find Senior Fang's interior decoration passing queer!" Qian Min blithely continued. "At least Elder Hu recognized that he had failed to be a proper host, Fang Xiao seems content to make his guests sit on the floor. Why, if he had told me earlier, I’m sure we outer disciples could have pooled our resources to rustle up some tables and chairs.”

"I'm sure he has his reasons for preferring asceticism." Su Li demurred, hardly believing her ears. The audacity! Did he fear nothing? One did not bad mouth their seniors, in their own home, in order to… make small talk? She couldn’t understand his angle. Was he bold, or foolish?

"Oh, but I’m sure your day has been far more interesting than my party preparations. I hear Elder Hu has taken you under his wings.”

“Oh, my day had nothing to do with Elder Hu. I spent today tending to the ruby ginseng.”

“Ah, those little beauties! Noble work, that! I’ve been trying to get my hands on some of them for ages now, I’m sure they’d make a wonderful addition to a spiced cider. Alas, Sun Ming is most insistent that they’re all spoken for by the alchemists.” He paused. “I should track her down and remind her that if she could scale up production just a little there’s sure to be a ready market for them.”

“I just saw Sun Ming in the courtyard, talking with disciple Qiao Ning. Perhaps you should go seek her out now, before she starts a brawl.”

“Perhaps I shall. It’s true then, that Elder Hu is teaching you?”

“It is, for the moment at least. I cannot claim to know his mind.”

“Hah! He does seem an inscrutable one, though far more approachable than his reputation suggests. His advice for handling the meat of the sun swallowing hog was most helpful.”

“Indeed.” Su Li replied with a small nod. “He is a most able teacher.”

For a moment, a silence stretched between them. If she were pressed, Su Li wasn’t sure if she would have said it was companionable, or awkward.

“Well, I suppose I should track down Sun Ming. Don’t be a stranger, and don’t hesitate to have seconds.” He clapped a meaty palm on her back hard enough to cause her soup to slosh dangerously. “I didn’t slave away all day on these dumplings for them not to be eaten!”

Despite herself, Su Li found herself liking Qian Min. He’d clearly wanted to press for details, but he’d taken her silence in good grace.

Before anyone else could speak with her, she cast her eyes about for an empty corner where she could pretend to be absorbed in her food. When she found one, and sat down to eat, she found she didn’t need to pretend at all. There was no appreciable qi in the fare, even Fang Xiao’s seemingly endless money pouch wasn’t deep enough for that. But it was excellent. Spring onions and ginger lent the soup a sharp, tangy flavor that was wonderfully complemented by a dash of red pepper. The broth was filled with so much egg and shredded chicken that it was wonderfully filling, and the gently bobbing dumplings were thick and hearty, chock full of beef and carrot.

She scarfed it down like a soldier who’d been marching all day. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d eaten as well as she had this week since joining the sect.

As she got up for a second bowl, she carefully scanned the guests. Her stomach sank, as she saw the one disciple above all others she didn’t want to talk to slowly drifting towards her. Geng Ru. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he navigated his way through the crowded room towards her.

As she reached the center table, she added her bowl to the dirty stack, and kept moving. Without meeting his gaze, she slipped out through one of the side doors leading deeper into the house. She moved swiftly, trying to break Geng Ru’s line of sight without giving the appearance of flight.

She passed between rooms in various levels of occupancy, avoiding attracting the eyes of any of the disciples within. She stepped around a pile of mismatched armor pieces stacked haphazardly, and slipped through a half closed screen.

Suddenly, she found herself before the master of the house.

Fang Xiao sat sprawled on a couch like a prince. Apparently he did own furniture, just not enough of it to share. A cup of rice wine balanced precariously in his hand, an ornate porcelain saucer worth more than most of Su Li’s possessions combined. His left hand rested upon the rump of some floozy who had thrown herself across his lap.

Other disciples surrounded him, seated on the floor. A fitting court for a prince. Su Li recognized a few of them. Liang Tao, and Zhao Hui of the inner sect were most prominent among them, the group split fairly evenly between inner and outer disciples. She noticed that most of the outer disciples present were female.

Fang Xiao’s eyes met hers, and he smiled.

“Ah, the lady of the hour! Come Disciple Su, join us!”

It was not really an invitation. To refuse would be unthinkable. She sat down, at an open spot between Liang Tao, and one of the outer sect girls she didn’t recognize.

“Disciple Su Li greets Senior Fang.”

Geng Ru slipped through the same door she had behind them.

“Ah, little Geng. Come, join us as well! Never let it be said that this Fang Xiao does not open his table to his juniors!” Fang Xiao, clearly a little into his cups, looked down at the lack of table before him. “I should get more tables, shouldn’t I? Junior Brother Qian seems to have monopolized the big one.”

Su Li’s stomach sank.

Geng Ru did not cut an imposing figure. He was short, and slight of build. He’d joined the sect the same year Su Li had. She, and the thirty odd disciples she’d joined the sect with, had spent a year living with him in the initiates dormitory. She knew for a fact he had driven two initiates to abandon the sect, and their dreams of cultivation, and suspected he’d killed at least one other.

He’d been eleven years old then, during the entry trials. A scrawny boy with the eyes of a predator. Now, at fourteen, he was still small, a full head shorter than even her. But where others had struggled in the harsh environment of the sect, he had thrived.

She was not too proud to admit to herself that he scared her.

“A drink for our new companions!” Fang Xiao passed the bottle he was pouring from around the circle. Apparently he lacked saucers as well.

She could feel the qi within it, but when her turn came, she took the smallest sip she could. When the bottle got to Geng, despite his age he took a hefty swig before passing it to Fang Xiao’s floozy.

“So, what’s old Hu really like?” Fang Xiao asked bluntly.

“Fang Xiao! Have some tact!” Liang Tao barked. “Don’t just interrogate the girl!”

“What, we’re all curious.” Fang Xiao stared intently at her, as if he could lift her secrets from her soul if he stared hard enough. Perhaps his talent was such that he could.

Su Li didn’t know what to say, but she had to say something. What would Elder Hu not care if she disclosed?

“Elder Hu is a patient teacher, willing to take the time to open even this untalented disciple’s eyes.”

“Interesting. Patient you say? I certainly didn’t expect that.”

“He’s certainly not as hot blooded as Elder Wang.” Liang Tao cut in. “I think he’s spent more time in the library this last week than Beastblood has in years.”

There were polite titters of laughter at this. Beastblood Wang’s disciples didn’t exactly attend parties often.

“What’s he been teaching you?” Fang Xiao was still staring at her with hungry eyes.

“Elder Hu’s sword techniques have unfathomably deep roots. He has elected to focus on shoring up this disciple’s martial foundation first.”

“Hmm. Has he taught you anything related to the Empty Breath?”

The higher variation of the Liar’s Breath disciples learned to conceal their unorthodox cultivation? Su Li hadn’t even begun to study it. She had stopped actively studying deception techniques, when she’d transitioned from the Liar’s Breath to the Lunar Refining Wheel.

“Elder Hu has never spoken to me about the traditional techniques of the sect. He has focused his lessons on martial arts and the nature of lunar qi.”

“I see.”

Su Li’s heart was racing now. Why did Fang Xiao care so much? His questions bordered on improper, prying into matters kept between a master and disciple, but she was in no position to refuse him. A disciple’s role was not to make trouble for their master. Elder Hu would protect her against overt aggression, but to clutch his thighs for something so small would only waste his time.

“Enough of that, she can’t tell us anything important anyway. What I want to hear are your thoughts on that lesson. Fried rice! Of all the things in this world.” An inner disciple said.

“Qian Min’s food is just as good as his was! What does it say about him as an elder, if a mere outer disciple can match him?” Another chimed in.

The disciples of Fang Xiao’s court rapidly devolved into chatter and banter. Su Li was just glad the entire’s group’s focus was no longer on her.

“Elder Hu is wealthy enough he could probably have fed the entire outer sect spiritual rice and barely noticed the expense. I have no doubt he could prepare such ingredients as well, if he favors cooking.”

“Perhaps we weren’t worth such extravagance?” An outer disciple tentatively threw out.

“No, you fool, clearly it’s because he wanted the lesson to be at the level of his audience! What would any outer sect disciple retain from a lesson in immortal cookery so far beyond them? Most hardly sense qi internally, let alone in an ingredient.”

“But why cookery? He offered that challenge, at the end of his lecture, but no matter how I turn the matter over in my head I cannot see a connection worth pursuing.”

“There’s something there, but we’re missing an angle. Perhaps there’s a second layer to the challenge? A connection to the higher arts that only becomes apparent when taken to the level of immortal cookery?”

“Or the opposite.” The same disciple who’d begun the conversation mused. “Perhaps the real lesson is that all arts have their mundane foundations. What would alchemy or formations look like at the purely mortal level? If mortal cookery is the foundation of immortal cookery, are there mundane techniques that buttress the higher arts?”

Su Li had nothing to offer. She’d been too afraid to ask her master. The musings of the inner disciples were beyond her, she could follow their ideas, but hadn’t the faintest idea of how to discern truth from falsehood.

“We’re not going to get anywhere here. Wisdom can spring from one head, but a dozen heads can only make decisions.” Liang Tao said.

“Hah! You’d know all about that.” Fang Xiao poured himself another saucer of wine. “I’m sure wisdom from one head rules your days.”

“Are he and Li on the outs?” The same inner disciple who’d begun the earlier conversation asked.

Su Li studied her. She was pretty, a little taller than Su Li, with long jet black hair. Unfortunately, that didn’t narrow down the field much, when it came to female inner disciples. Su Li had no idea who she was from reputation alone. It was so much easier, when inner disciples and elders wore distinctive colors, instead of the sect standard.

“Li’s spitting mad apparently. Doubt he does anything, Elder Hu stands almost a full realm above him, it would barely be a fight.”

“Hah, don’t let Li Ru hear you say that.” Su Li filed that piece of information away. She tried to avoid Li Ru, after her disastrous apprenticeship under him.

“Elder Hu’s in Nascent Soul?”

“At the very least. I’d heard a rumor that he'd taken the Asura’s Step, and that was why he was so reserved these last decades.” The black haired inner disciple said. “But if that’s true, he’s clearly conquered it, by his recent behavior.”

“I’d heard he was seeking transcendence.”

“If Elder Hu claimed not to be a sword saint, who would dare to claim they were?” Liang Tao said, shaking his head.

“Aiming to become his next disciple?” Fang Xiao asked. “Finally get out from under your mother’s thumb.”

“Ah, that’s a thought.” Liang Tao chuckled, but it was a sad noise, filled with resignation. “But my mother is not Li Qiu, and not even Elder Hu would be bold enough to try to cut what she had bound together.”

“Are you actually his disciple then?” A new voice asked. A voice that sent shivers down her spine. “Not just a passing project?”

Geng Ru was staring right at her. She scrambled to respond, but to her shock, it was Liang Tao who answered.

“She is.”

Su Li’s heart jumped. She didn’t believe it. It didn’t make any sense. How could Elder Hu have such faith in her already?

"Heard that from your mother too?” Fang Xiao asked.

"From the man himself actually. Envy is a poor color on a man so privileged. If you want a master, pick one, otherwise stop complaining." Liang Tao shot back.

"Is that how you see it?"

“That’s how it is. Connections don’t come free.”

“And my independence did?”

"Boys. Do I need to come over there?" Sun Ming’s voice echoed out from the next room over.

Liang Tao and Fang Xiao were still staring at each other. Liang Tao’s hand twitched.

“Oh, are we moving into that phase of the evening?” Fang Xiao asked, with a smile.

“I do believe we are.” Liang Tao said, rising.

“Very well then. To the courtyard!” Fang Xiao shouted, raising his saucer of wine high. He downed the rest of the bowl, before rising as well.

The rest of the disciples followed. Su Li joined the steadily growing exodus moving towards the courtyard. The press of the crowd made it easy to distance herself from Geng Ru. Her fellow disciples chattered happily, at the thought of the coming bloodshed.

“Bold of Liang Tao, thinking this time will end any differently.”

“Finally! I’d begun to despair that this party would ever get interesting. I swear, you lot gossip like a bunch of grandmothers.”

“Two taels of silver on Liang Tao.”

“I’ll match that at even odds, and put up a further three on our host, if anyone cares to match.”

“I can go in for five.” The same disciple who’d offered the bet originally replied.

“Is round two set yet?”

Bets were set and drinks were refilled as the crowd of disciples moved outside. The courtyard was packed now, save for an empty space in the center. Outer disciples pressed themselves against the walls of the estate, many trying to stand on ornamental rocks to get a good view, but not be too close to the action. The inner disciples by contrast lazed about. One trio, perched by a koi pond located dangerously close to the impromptu arena, didn't even bother to move as the duelists began setting up.

“Liang Tao, if you blow our dumplings in the water, I’m going to drown you.” One of them shouted.

The two men faced each other, in the center of the yard. They’d armed themselves, Fang Xiao taking up an unadorned sword, and Liang Tao carrying a spear with a curving head that reminded Su Li of a bird’s talon.

“You put in any bets?” Su Li jumped. Somehow, Sun Ming was standing behind her. For such a loud woman, she could be very quiet when she wanted to be.

“Of course not, I don’t have the money for such frivolities.”

“It’s only a frivolity if you lose. If you win, it’s an investment. I’ve got three taels on Liang, he wouldn’t be this mouthy without a new edge, and Fang Xiao is drunk. Easiest money of my life.”

Su Li’s fingers clenched into fists. A tael was worth almost five hundred cash. That was six months of the cash portion of her pay, riding on one fight.

The two men separated, walking to opposite ends of the arena, seemingly satisfied with the terms. Liang Tao raised his spear, and a haze began to gather at its point, a gentle distortion like small ripples in the air.

Fang Xiao stood relaxed, stance open, sword resting by his side.

“What’s the record now between us junior brother Liang? Six wins for me, one for you?” Fang Xiao said, lazily rolling his neck. “It seems you learn best through repetition, please allow this senior to beat the lesson into you.”

“How long has it been, since you forged a new pillar?” Liang Tao retorted. “Cultivation is a marathon, not a sprint. It’s a shame you can’t seem to find your second wind.”

With a crack of thunder, Fang Xiao moved.