Chapter Twelve: Such a New Home

“Later, Xiao Yuanzi will take you to your quarters. From now on, every three months, the two of you may come to this room to collect your stipend. Every three days, new disciples may attend lectures at the Hall of Discourse. Today happens to be a lecture day, so the next one will be in three days. During this time, you may wander about, visit your fellow senior brothers and sisters, and seek their guidance,” Uncle Wen said, then called out toward the doorway, “Xiao Yuanzi, come in.”

The round-faced boy from earlier came running in, shouting, “Uncle Wen, you called for me?”

“He is your Senior Brother Jiang,” Uncle Wen paused, then explained, “In the cultivation world, one’s seniority is determined by cultivation level, not by age.”

“Greetings, Senior Brother Jiang,” Feng Ke’er and Bodhi Seed cupped their fists and bowed respectfully.

Xiao Yuanzi returned the gesture, his round face trying to appear dignified and mature. “No need for formality, junior sister and junior brother.”

Feng Ke’er cast a furtive glance at her “Senior Brother Jiang,” who wasn’t even as tall as she was, and sighed inwardly, making fun of herself: Junior sister—what a youthful title. Heh, it sounds far younger than “big sister” or, heaven forbid, “aunt.” Where else could I get such a bargain!

“Xiao Yuanzi, take them to their quarters,” Uncle Wen spread open a sheepskin map and quickly pointed at two spots, “The boy will stay here, the girl there—don’t mix them up.” Earlier, when Uncle Wen came, he had only asked for one good room, but now he had brought two people. He had been puzzling over this, but now Uncle Wen’s intent was clear—those in charge hadn’t counted this lady among the new disciples at all. In that case, arranging the rooms was simple.

Yuanzi glanced knowingly at the two standing before the table and nodded in understanding.

Could it be that even cultivators can’t escape the mundane, always treating people according to their own preferences? Feng Ke’er clearly saw what was happening and muttered inwardly.

Sure enough, what happened next proved her suspicions right.

After leaving the Discipline Hall with Senior Brother Jiang leading the way, they walked for less than five minutes before a cluster of neat, square courtyards appeared before them. Red-lacquered gates, bluish stone walls, golden thatched roofs—each courtyard was clean and tidy.

Senior Brother Jiang stopped and pointed to the fourth courtyard on the right. “The outer sect’s conditions are far inferior to the inner sect. There are not enough courtyards for the number of people, so each new group of disciples shares a courtyard, eight to a yard. Feng Junior Brother, this is Courtyard Four of the Xin block, and there's just one spot left. Uncle Wen has arranged for you to stay here.”

“Thank you, Senior Brother.” Bodhi Seed, hugging his little green cloth bundle, waved energetically at Feng Ke’er. “Sister, see you tomorrow!” With that, he hopped off into the courtyard.

He had come prepared to be someone’s servant. Unexpectedly, he’d become a new disciple, living in a clean and comfortable new courtyard. If he wasn’t clutching the stipend Uncle Wen had given him, he’d have thought he was dreaming.

“See you tomorrow,” Feng Ke’er replied perfunctorily, and as Senior Brother Jiang looked away, she shot a fierce glare at the cheerful figure disappearing into the courtyard. See you, my foot. Who do you think you are? Some precious treasure, that I’d want to see you every day?

She had always hated being deceived, and was quick to bear a grudge. Now that they had parted, she had already resolved never to see that sly little brat again. Even if she ran into him face to face, she’d act as if she hadn’t noticed.

Once the boy had entered, Senior Brother Jiang withdrew his gaze and looked Feng Ke’er up and down with a forced smile. “Come on, Junior Sister Feng.”

With no third party present, Feng Ke’er found it awkward to call this half-grown boy, who was half a head shorter than herself, “Senior Brother.” Under his intense gaze, she could only mumble a reluctant “Okay.”

Senior Brother Jiang curled his lips and turned to leave. Feng Ke’er clutched her cloth bundle and trailed closely behind.

They walked and walked—the wide flagstone path turned into a gravel lane, then the gravel path became a dusty, uneven dirt road, growing narrower and narrower. The neat courtyards slowly faded behind them, replaced by scattered, isolated yards, each screened by a yellowish haze of dust, bleak and desolate.

But Senior Brother Jiang strode ahead, robes billowing, taking long, purposeful steps.

Utterly blatant discrimination! Feng Ke’er wiped the thin sweat from her brow, a chill settling in her heart.

They walked for over an hour. The sun dipped westward; a round moon climbed the sky, casting a silvery clarity over the land.

At last, Senior Brother Jiang stopped, pointing to a solitary courtyard ahead. Seeing her sweating and panting, he smiled, “Junior Sister, you have quite the stamina. This is your lodging.”

Even though Feng Ke’er was psychologically prepared, she still gasped when she saw the courtyard by moonlight. “Th-thank you.”

Seeing her reaction, Senior Brother Jiang cleared his throat and said unhappily, “As you saw, all the new courtyards house eight people each. To tell you more, I’m a disciple at the late stage of Qi Refining and share a courtyard with three other Qi Refining juniors. Among the outer sect, only the elders in Foundation Establishment have their own courtyards. If you weren’t so lucky—if all the new girls’ courtyards weren’t already full—there’s absolutely no rule allowing a single person to occupy a whole courtyard.”

In truth, he was well aware—this dilapidated yard was technically a “new” courtyard, but it hadn’t been inhabited for a century. Even then, a hundred years ago, it had only been used as solitary confinement.

He’s already said it’s a special exception—what’s there left to say? Feng Ke’er straightened her back and crisply thanked him again. “Thank you, Senior Brother Jiang.” But inwardly, she was fuming: What kind of luck is this? Didn’t you see the gate has already collapsed, the entrance overrun with weeds, and not a soul in sight? Heaven knows how long it’s been since anyone lived here. Hmph, it’s not that my character is bad, it’s that you people are just too snobbish.

Senior Brother Jiang’s face softened a touch. His gaze lingered on the green-cloth bundle in her arms, and he warned coldly, “Junior Sister, let me give you a word of advice. There are always idlers wandering around here. Living alone in a separate courtyard, you mustn’t invite trouble—guard your door carefully.”

“Noted, thank you for the reminder.” Feng Ke’er instinctively hugged her bundle tighter.

Senior Brother Jiang frowned, unwilling to let it go, and added, “Especially guard the pills the sect has issued you.” He emphasized the word “pills.”

“Understood. Don’t worry, Senior Brother—I’ll exercise the utmost caution.” Feng Ke’er pretended not to hear the implication and beamed at him, “Thank you so much!”

“Very well. Take care then, Junior Sister.” Senior Brother Jiang was nearly grinding his teeth. He’d trudged a dozen miles of rough road, dropped hint after hint, and hadn’t gotten a single benefit from this fool—he was one breath away from coughing up blood in frustration. Yet, having seen with his own eyes that the girl had been brought by Elder Gong, he dared not act rashly, not knowing how she’d offended Uncle Wen to end up in such disgrace. With a resentful swish of his sleeve, he strode away.

Feng Ke’er sneered to herself. She had already fallen this low—how much worse could things get? Besides, Feng Queyi had warned her: In the outer sect, pills were precious. She had no reason to waste such rare medicine on a mere late-stage Qi Refining novice.

The courtyard’s gate bore layer upon layer of cobwebs, both old and new, revolting to behold. For miles around there was nothing but forest and not a single house in sight—not even a neighbor to borrow a broom from.

Hmph, if I can’t have bread, I’ll just live on pride. I can make a home anywhere! Feng Ke’er slung her bundle across her back, tied a firm knot, yanked out the waist-high weeds at the entrance, bundled some into a makeshift broom, covered her mouth and nose with a sleeve, and swept away the cobwebs.

But upon entering the yard, she was stunned: Was this even a courtyard?

The tiny yard had been completely overtaken by wildflowers and weeds. Of the three mud-brick thatched huts, two had collapsed entirely. The one in the center still stood, albeit lopsided, but its roof was gone—bare beams stretched across four earthen walls, a silent testament that there had once been a roof. The doors and window frames had vanished without a trace, leaving only the battered, red-lacquered doorframe like a toothless old woman.

Feng Ke’er tossed aside her “broom” in despair and sat on the threshold, hugging her knees, tears streaming uncontrollably down her cheeks, splattering onto the flagstones at her feet. How was she supposed to live here?

It was just too much, unbearably humiliating. Even if she was a cultivation good-for-nothing, did she really deserve this kind of bullying?

She cried and cried, but the tears dried up. What good would it do? The place was deserted; even if she cried herself to death tonight, no one would know for a while. And if the story got out, she’d be laughed at.

She wiped her face hard, untied her bundle, and took stock of her belongings.

Inside were two short blue robes, two pairs of straw sandals, two foot-long daggers, and three small white porcelain bottles.

Each bottle held two pills.

Uncle Wen had been true to his word—double portions, and exactly double at that.

Feng Ke’er took out a dagger and tucked her little gourd and other trinkets into the bundle, slung it back on her shoulders, rolled up her sleeves, and headed out the gate.

She cut a branch from the roadside woods, as thick as a child’s arm, stripped off the twigs and leaves, and tested its weight in her hands. There—a sturdy staff, about a meter long.

Why bother with a stick? To flush out snakes, of course. She was terrified of snakes.

As it turned out, she didn’t run into any snakes, but in the right-collapsed hut she stumbled upon a nest of gray eggs—pulling aside a clump of weeds in the corner, she uncovered a dried grass nest, inside which were a neat row of ten fist-sized eggs.

From her field experience, this must have been a giant wildfowl’s nest. Ignoring the size, the eggs did look much like wild chicken eggs—nothing like snake eggs or anything sinister.

Her stomach rumbled in protest. Feng Ke’er squatted by the nest, gazing at the eggs, torn with indecision: Maybe it was the lack of pollution, the lush mountains, the pure air, and abundant plant life that made wild chickens here grow so well—their eggs were bound to be bigger than in the modern world, right?

Just then, a sudden gust of wind swept through.

With a flurry and a bang, a dark shadow swooped straight at her face.

End of Chapter 12: Such a New Home