After formally stepping into the eighth-rank Zhou Heavenly realm, Jiang Chen adjusted the number of times he rushed his cultivation meridians each day back to twice — morning and evening.
Cultivation from here on granted no longer sought the speed at which Dao Vortexes condensed. On the contrary, he had to slow deliberately, to steady his foundations.
That he had erected the minor Three Energies and completed his minor Zhou Heavenly circulation had come about of its own accord. But the granary of his great circulation was not yet adequately stocked.
Even so, with the Star-Coiling Serpent joined by three Star River Dao Vortexes, the Dao essence born each day within his Celestial Palace had reached thirty-three grains — which meant that in nearly ten days' time he could construct another Dao Vortex anew.
Jiang Chen had, precisely, been spending great quantities of Dao essence on drilling his Dao arts, honing his foundations within the Zhou Heavenly realm.
Among the brothers, Jiang Chen and Du Hu were now both eighth-rank Zhou Heavenly realm cultivators.
That Du Hu could reach this pace within the army, aside from the ancient soldier-martial path of letting qi and blood break through the meridians, the Four-Spirit Body Refining Art must also have achieved its great completion. On that score, he had in fact drawn ahead of Jiang Chen.
Zhao Yan, meanwhile, had quietly laid his foundation, catching up to Ling Chuan's cultivation.
Two ninth-rank Spirit Wanderer cultivators and an eighth-rank Zhou Heavenly realm cultivator made already a squad that could stand on its own and take on tasks of somewhat higher difficulty.
The thirst of the academy's cultivators for Dao merits was endless.
Ling Chuan and Zhao Yan, for instance, had at least one Dharma artifact apiece to be outfitted, and even the lowest-grade pair of such artifacts would cost a thousand Dao merits. Again, certain Dao arts beyond the ordinary — those that could raise one's combat power to immediate effect — likewise demanded a price in Dao merits to exchange. Still again, Jiang Chen had to obtain for Jiang An'an a better grade of vein-opening pill, and at present he did not even know the price of it; he could only hoard as much as he could.
So, they had to do their tasks with vigor, and take on challenges with vigor.
In this way one tempered one's experience of the world, proved the worth of what one had learned, and helped build the state besides. The first man to establish the system of Dao merits, it had to be said, was a true talent who had seen clearly through the ways of the world.
Though Huang Azhan spent much of his time in their company, as a senior brother of an earlier class he had a fixed squad of his own.
Generally, squads that worked year-round at tasks took five men as their ceiling.
Jiang Chen's squad numbered only three, yet it could never be called weak.
Back when Jiang Chen had been so long in laying his foundation, no one had ever imagined he would stride into the Zhou Heavenly realm so quickly.
Nor did the others grasp how formidable the Jiang Chen who fought without pause within the Grand Illusionary Realm — paving his own way with "merit" — had by now become.
Though it had been but a short while since he entered the Zhou Heavenly realm, were the Three Cities Discourse to reopen now, he was confident he could contend for the top place among the third-year students.
In cultivation and combat power alike, Jiang Chen had pulled ahead. And yet the squad's leader remained Ling Chuan.
So it had been even in their outer-sect days. Ling Chuan weighed every matter with completeness, and conducted himself with steadiness. Though his presence never seemed to announce itself, he was among the least likely of men to err. And within the academy, his standing was the best of all.
As for the two vacancies that remained in the squad, Jiang Chen and the others resolved to fill them from among the incoming junior disciples of the coming year — and if no fit candidate appeared, they would sooner leave the places empty.
A single squad had too many trials before it; compatibility of temperament was vital. It was never a case of one more man meaning one more measure of combat strength. Sometimes a single unsuited person could bring the whole squad to ruin.
The first task the newly formed squad received was an eighth-rank task.
More, it was a named task issued to them directly by the academy — one that could not be refused. Naturally, the Dao merit reward was accordingly raised by thirty percent.
The circumstances behind the task were not complicated:
A full squad of academy disciples, dispatched on a mission to hunt down two heretical path demon-cultivators, had been wiped out to the last man — save a single Spirit Wanderer survivor.
Intelligence held that both heretics were only of the ninth rank. The academy squad, by contrast, boasted two eighth-rank Zhou Heavenly cultivators and three ninth-rank Spirit Wanderer cultivators. By any reckoning, it ought to have been a certainty.
What the Ling Chuan squad was charged with was to investigate the truth behind that task.
And the sole survivor of that task was Fang Lin.
...
Steeling himself, Jiang Chen made his way again to the Fang clan's ancestral seat, his feelings unquestionably complicated.
He had drunk his fill of wine here, and had narrowly escaped with his life here.
What surprised him, though, was that throughout the whole of the Fang clan land, the clansmen hurried past in a bustle, and scarcely any of them spared him a second glance. There was, naturally, none of the hostility and enmity he had braced himself for.
Zhao Yan traded a glance with Jiang Chen, then casually reached out a hand to stop a woman passing by.
"Excuse me, miss, could you tell me where Fang Lin is?"
The woman had been all impatience, but the sight of Zhao Yan's handsome face softened her somewhat, and she flicked at her hair. "You're asking after the young clan head..."
Young clan head?
Zhao Yan found himself intrigued, and smiled. "We're academy disciples, and we have matters to discuss with junior brother Fang. Might the young lady be so kind as to tell us?"
At hearing Zhao Yan give himself up as an academy disciple, and moreover an older schoolmate of Fang Lin, the woman dissolved entirely whatever resentment she'd felt at being stopped mid-stride, and her smile turned brilliant. "The young clan head is at home! The roads here wind every which way — let me lead you."
So saying, she set off up ahead, guiding Zhao Yan forward, and from first to last wholly ignored Ling Chuan and Jiang Chen at their backs.
"Then we're in your debt, young lady." Zhao Yan gave a gentle smile, as soft as a spring breeze wafting warmth.
The two chatted along the way in the best of spirits, while Ling Chuan and Jiang Chen followed wordlessly behind. By the time they reached the doorstep of Fang Lin's home, the pair had near enough begun exchanging dates of birth.
After volunteering her purpose to the doorman, the woman at last took her leave, reluctant to go.
Zhao Yan smiled his farewell to her, then turned back, and laughed. "Amusing."
The amusing thing, of course, was not the young lady.
In the course of that exchange, the two of them had learned just how things stood with the Fang clan.
The old clan head, who had lain sick in bed these many years, had died but a few days prior, and Fang Zesheng — the clan's head in all but name — had naturally passed from shadow into substance.
And yet what actually governed the Fang clan nowadays was the "young clan head," Fang Lin.
For once Fang Zesheng had assumed the title of clan head, he had handed over the clan's every authority to his son.
To be sure, this was bound to happen sooner or later, and to pave the way for one's own son was only natural. Still, one could hardly shake the feeling that it had come too hastily. Moreover, Fang Zesheng was in the full vigor of his years, and had no cause to retire to ease quite so early.
Even as these thoughts turned in their minds, the doorman came back with his report.
Fang Lin made no show of airs. He simply followed the doorman out through the gate, his expression far from pleasant, yet not quite discourteous either.
This was, in a way, a step forward. Given his temperament in the past, Jiang Chen had thought he would at the very least kick up some kind of fuss.
"Is something the matter?" he asked, addressing Ling Chuan.
"Yes, junior brother Fang." Ling Chuan explained. "It concerns that task you experienced before..."
"That task I've already made perfectly clear. The academy and the Justice Enforcement Bureau both keep records of it." Fang Lin cut across him. "You may go and look through those, rather than ask me again. You have no such right, and I have no such obligation."
"We do have the right." Ling Chuan said with great steadiness. "We have taken up the academy's investigation task, and any person or body involved is to cooperate with us. You are not the exception — nor is the Justice Enforcement Bureau."
"An investigation task?" For a moment something like surprise flickered across Fang Lin's face, but he suppressed it quickly, letting no further emotion show.
He only said: "Very well, I'll tell it once more. That day we chased down two heretical demon-cultivators, all the way to a mountain beyond Du Family Town. Since it already linked up with the Qichang Mountain range, and my leg was wounded, I suggested we lie in ambush at the mountain's foot and wait for the heretics to come down.
But senior brother Zhang Xizhi, who led the squad, insisted on going ahead. He made me stay behind to nurse my wound, and took the others into the mountain himself.
I waited all through to the next day, and still they never came down. I knew something had gone wrong, and so I contacted the local authorities. Men from both the Justice Enforcement Bureau and the academy came rushing over, and in a cave they discovered their bones. That's the whole of what happened."
His right leg was indeed wrapped in several layers of gauze, faint bloodstains upon it.
"Only bones?" Jiang Chen asked. Despite himself, he was reminded of what had happened at Tangshe Town.
Fang Lin glanced at him; in his eyes could no longer be seen anything like hatred. "Yes."
He turned again to Ling Chuan. "That's all I know, and of the rest I know nothing. My grandfather is dead, my father is too grieved to take up the reins, and now every single matter of the Fang clan rests upon my shoulders alone. I am very busy — do not disturb me unless it matters. Is that all right?"
Having said this, seeing that Ling Chuan had yet to move, he asked, "Is there anything else?"
"I'd like to go in and burn a stick of incense."
"What?" Fang Lin thought he must have misheard.
But Ling Chuan only said, with great earnestness, "I want to burn incense for Fang Heng's grandfather. When he was alive, he doted on Heng."
He truly meant only to pay his respects — simply, plainly.
Fang Lin was silent for a good long while. Then he stepped aside and yielded the way into the house.