Published: May 25th 2025, 10:00:20 pm
Orange-crest couldn't sleep.
It was such a stupid problem. Not being able to sleep. Sleep was what you did when you weren't able to be awake. So how could a monkey be unable to sleep? It was like saying you were unable to not eat. Or, was it like that? That would make eating being awake? Did it make sense to say that you couldn't not eat because you were busy eating right now? The logic seemed to run in a circle, never finding a place to rest. Just like orange-crest's busy mind.
Ugh. Orange-crest's head hurt. This analogy had run away from him, taking any hope of sleep with it. He could play all the silly word games he wished, but none of them were helping quiet his racing mind tonight. He knew why he couldn't sleep. It was because he was supposed to sleep. To be well rested for the appointed hour.
But there was a great gulf of difference between deciding to do something, and deciding you should do something. The orange-crest of a year ago would never have been able to comprehend the latter idea. The orange-crest of today was not certain he was happy that he could.
The monkey sat up. Azure silk slid off his fur like water, pooling around his legs. Carefully, he extracted himself from the little burrow of spare robes and pillows he'd built in the corner of the common room. His master had offered to find him a 'true' bed. But orange-crest didn't see the point in those, despite all his master's attempts at explaining the virtues of a dedicated place for sleep. Soft and warm fabrics, he saw the point in those. They were very cozy, though not a true substitute for curling up next to his brothers and sisters. But why would he need a place to put them? When you gnarred down to the core of the it, a bed was just a weirdly large table.
Orange-crest crept past the workshop, where his master was likely asleep. He was sleeping less, as he grew stronger. But Li Xun still wasn't reading long into the night as he did a year ago. A year ago, orange-crest would have rejoiced at that. It would have made it so much easier to sneak out and explore the mountain nights. Now, he worried.
How much he had changed, to worry over something he could not influence.
The monkey popped open a window, stepping out onto the sill. Climbing was different too. Easier and harder at once. He was taller and stronger, even taking into account his greater weight. But his weight introduced other complications. Now, when he reached up for the edge of the roof and heaved he did not worry about falling, but about snapping a tile off.
Silently creeping up the uneven slope, orange-crest breathed in the night air. Smelled the must of fallen leaves, the stark-clean cold that descended from the heights of the mountain. Stared up at the heavens, the glimmering lights men called stars.
There was a comfort there, in the distant and unchanging heavens. No matter how his life changed, they did not. His fur now gleamed as if tiny orange-red stars had been set within it, and yet the stars still quietly ignored him.
Good.
Orange-crest wondered what the stars thought, as they stared down at the earth. He wasn't sure if they did think, but he felt like they should. Men's books said so many different things about them. Some scrolls claimed they were made of qi, heavenly spirit springs. That made sense, but it was boring. Others books claimed that they were treasures placed in the night sky by immortals, somehow important to the fortunes of empires. That seemed plausible, but very self-centered for humans to write. So, unlikely. Their most self-centered ideas seemed to be the ones most often false. One little passage in a dusty tome had claimed they were worlds unto themselves, and that the earth they rested their heads upon shined back upon myriad other worlds, a star in its own right.
Orange-crest liked this idea best of all the ones he had read. There was a pleasing symmetry to it, that stars should be like the creatures that walked upon them. Each a world unto itself, visible, knowable, but different.
Orange-crest wondered who the man he would fight tomorrow was. He knew things about him. He was in the third stage of qi condensation, cultivating the Azure Spirit Method. He fought with a sword. His master had looked into his background, and reported he was 'no one special'. He was tall for his age, well muscled, and came from a city. He had never been seen using elemental techniques, but was pursuing the art of sword-flight.
His name Jiang Yan. Orange-crest would face him at the close of the hour of the snake, in the third of the six secondary arenas at Godsgrave Peak.
That was a lot of things to know about someone. But none of them made him any less of a stranger to orange-crest.
Orange-crest fought for his master. He wondered what Jiang Yan fought for. Himself? His future? His parents or his brothers?
The monkey yawned. It was nice out here. Chill, but not cold. Autumn really was a pleasant time of year when you weren't worried about having enough food for winter.
He supposed it didn't matter who Jiang Yan was. It didn't change what needed to be done.
When the sun rose, Li Xun found his disciple snoring quietly on the roof.
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"I don't wanna." Li Hou insisted stubbornly, paws raised as if to fend off a malevolent spirit. "It rubs my fur the wrong way!"
Li Xun sighed, and stopped trying to rub the soft robe against his simian disciple's face. He hadn't expected this to be easy. His disciple had dug his feet in the ground last time he'd broached the matter, and he hadn't cared enough to insist. But as much as he hated pandering to the lowest instincts of humanity, Li Hou would need every possible advantage if he was to dance the thin line between proving himself an unconventional prodigy, and mortally offending the mightiest families in the empire.
"Appearances are important." Li Xun said. "How you look shapes how people will treat you. And we want you to look civilized."
"Why?"
"Because if you look like a wild animal, the audience will think you are one."
"But why is that a problem?" Li Hou pressed.
"Because if my disciple looks like a wild beast, how can I claim any responsibility for his achievements? Every idiot with a grudge against me, and I regret to say there are no shortage of those, will claim that your talents are the product of fate. A mythical bloodline, or a fortuitous encounter. They will say I am a fraud who simply stole away a powerful spirit beast and pretended to have taught it."
"But that's a lie." The monkey said slowly. "You did teach me. I can talk. And make pills. And write."
Have you ever known the truth to be capable of stopping a fool from wagging his tongue?"
Li Hou scowled.
"But they have eyes." He protested. "Will see idiots are dumb."
"If you make it to the final rounds of the tournament, thousands of cultivators will witness your prowess. Fewer than a hundred will hear any words you utter on the field. Anyone near the peak of foundation establishment or above should have sufficient senses, but very few disciples have ears that refined. Perhaps a dozen will ever speak with you at length. The images disciples see and remember matter, their mouths will shape the public perception of you for a long time. For better or worse, a lie can travel halfway across the empire while the truth is still arguing with its master about whether or not it is going to wear a robe."
Li Hou laughed. Then he stopped, and returned to scowling at his master. Yet, Li Xun already knew he'd won this round.
"Look," the daoist said. "This robe is silk. Do you have any idea how hard I had to work before I could wear a silk robe? Only inner disciples and elders are provided those by the sect, even daoists need to buy them ourselves. You'll probably be the only disciple in the entire tournament not either a member or servant of a noble family to wear a silk robe."
"Silk is nice." Li Hou agreed. "Very soft. Good for sleeping on. But robes are bad. What if I need to move quick and it gets in the way?"
"Please, I know how strong you are now. I would prefer if you don't tear apart my spare robes in the very first round, but that's not a real problem. Mundane silk wouldn't slow you down. Plus I'll be putting it on you properly. It won't hinder your movement."
"I haven't fought in a robe before."
"And whose fault is that?"
"Is not fault." Li Hou protested. "Is just fact."
"There are some nice things about robes." Li Xun said. "I know you like pouches, but you can't hide a knife in a mundane bag. You can hide a dozen of them in the folds of a daoist's robe."
"Concealed weapons are neat." Li Hou agreed. "I could use a second knife."
"The workshop has no shortage of sharp objects in it."
"No shoes?" The monkey asked. Li Xun knew he had him. That was as good as a promise.
"No shoes." His master agreed.
"Fine."
No shoes yet, Li Xun thought to himself. Shoes would be third or fourth. Hair would be next. That little poof Li Hou was so proud of would look so very dashing worked up into a top knot. Add a understated crown, perhaps in silver, with a metal chopstick to hold it in place. He'd look like the very spitting image of a young master. Well, a very hairy young master. And the image would only hold until he opened his mouth.
It would still be worthwhile to do. He'd reach out to Daoist Enduring Oath tomorrow.
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"This is a lot of walking. Why can't we all fight on the mountain we live on?"
Li Xun chuckled. His disciple looked up at him.
"What's funny?" The monkey demanded. "Good brothers share funny things."
"Ah, but I am sharing the humor. By not telling you. This way, when you see the joke, there will be more of it."
"That's the opposite of what I said."
"You'll see, when we crest this hill. This tournament has been held every year on Godsgrave Peak for the better part of a millennium. Even when the Azure Mountain Sect mustered for war, a single elder remained behind to watch the initiates as they fought each other. I imagine it was a sad and solemn occasion, fighting their fellows knowing on the morrow they would march to war together. And yet, they did so. Risked injury and wasted qi on the very eve of battle, that four hundred years later the Azure Mountain Sect might still be able to say that we have upheld the will laid down by our patriarch without fail."
"Very interesting." Li Hou said. "Doesn't answer my question."
"Think on the matter. The answer will be obvious in hindsight. You know the purpose of the tournament, the name of the peak."
"Why so sneaky? You usually love answering this monkey's questions."
"Sometimes the pondering is more illuminating than the question." Li Xun said with a smile. "And I can always speak at length later. Also, it will be funny to see your face."
"Hmmph. Fine. Be like that."
They walked in silence for a while. Orange-crest tried to imagine the fight he was walking toward. Neither of his human teachers were sword cultivators, but Daoist Enduring Oath did have a sword he had forged but never sold. He'd demonstrated the fundamentals of the art, sending the blade into a fierce dive with a two-fingered gesture.
The flying sword had punched clear through a tree, and then kept going. When the blade finally stopped, it was embedded almost halfway to the hilt in the side of a mountain, and Daoist Scouring Medicine had plenty of additional firewood.
It was a potent trick, but limited. This disciple's version would be far weaker than Daoist Enduring Oath's demonstration. But orange-crest still couldn't let it hit him directly. His new fur might resist a glancing blow, but he would need to turn to stone to be sure it didn't run him through. Dodge or parry the strike, ideally, then finish the fight before Jiang Yan retrieved his blade.
Perhaps he could immobilize the blade with his spell? It seemed risky.
"The first battle will be the easiest." His master said, reading his mind like a book. "But the difficulty will grow rapidly from there. The matches are not random. A dozen people lay their fingers on the scales, choosing matches that best serve their interests. Elder Lu has many concerns. You, and even I, are largely beneath his notice. At least when we're not causing trouble for him. I doubt he bothered to read the tournament rolls in full. There are too many initiates he cares nothing for, this match with Jiang Cheng was likely set by an inner disciple. But once rumors of your return spread, he will see your name on the list. And he will want you removed, before you ever reach the main stage. He doesn't need to see what I seek to do. Just know that if I reach for something, he should deny it to me."
"So, hard fights?"
"Yes. For most initiates, displaying formidable skills all but ensures they won't be matched with another prodigy early on. The sect wants those fights on the main stage, fought before the many notables that will attend the final rounds. But given Elder Lu's animosity, you have no such protection. That is why I think you should keep your tricks hidden as long as you can. You'll need every tool you can muster to survive the fights to come. As soon as your opponents start taking you seriously, they'll extract every piece of information they can from disciples who watched your prior fights."
"So, the monkey gets the hardest road to the top." Li Hou summarized.
Li Xun shrugged.
"It's not all bad. The brackets aren't even. Normally, more advanced initiates get an easier passage into the final rounds. Fewer fights before they get there. It does the sect little good for monsters like Yang Wei and Xiao Long to crush the dreams of half a dozen initiates before fighting a peer who has any chance of stopping them. Getting placed into a high bracket means your second and third fights will be far harder than they should be, but it will also mean you should have closer to four fights than eight before you reach the finals."
"So, one easy, two hard, then one or two of the very best." Li Hou summarized.
"Yes. It's entirely possible your second fight will be against Yang Wei or one of the Xiao scions, if Elder Lu simply discards all subtlety. For my own money, I think the third being the round intended to eliminate you is more likely. If he's smart, and he is, he'll want a difficult but not insurmountable second fight to force you to show your hand before you face one of the leading contenders. In a fight between cultivators, information is often the decisive edge. Knowing your opponent's techniques allows you to prepare countermeasures ahead of time, or even to avoid facing them altogether if you have no answer to their greatest techniques."
"And you should expect any noble scion to come prepared with answers for anything you've shown before." Li Xun continued. "Daoist Enduring Oath and I will do our bests to help you do the same, but their backing will be far more formidable than ours. There are limits on how many life-saving treasures initiates are expected to bring. But they are very generous limits."
"Got it." Orange-crest said. This was too much thinking. He saw the problem. He saw the solution. The rest was just moving in circles. He had a fight before him. He just had to win it as cleanly as possible, ideally without showing off what he could really do.
His master fell silent, and they kept walking. The path rose up to meet their feet, drawing them steadily higher. And then the ground evened out. As they crested the top of the hill, Li Hou's eyes widened. They felt like they'd fall out of his head.
That was impossible. It wasn't how stone worked. No river, wind, or mortal hand could shape stone like that.
An abyss opened up before him, a mountain that had been hollowed like one of the trees he used to brew wine in. If Li Hou took a dozen steps forward, then took one more step into empty air, he felt like he would be able to burn an entire stick of his master's incense before he finally hit the ground.
He could see cultivators in the distance, scurrying like ants far below him. They were fighting even now, in the eight smaller arenas the surrounded the great center one. An idle part of his mind noted they were placed in the shape of a Bagua diagram from his master's books. One summoned a gout of flame that looked like a tiny spark as he desperately dodged a blade that was nothing more than a sliver of silver in the hands of a azure blur. Hundreds of disciples sat in the great rows of stone benches carved into the side of the hollow. They gathered in small clusters, separated by dozens of chi. A thousand humans would not have filled a tenth of that space, a few hundred left it all but empty.
"You won't be fighting on a mountain Li Hou." His master said gently. "You'll be fighting in a mountain."
"How?" Orange-crest asked. What else was there to say? He'd thought he'd seen the shape of this world. And then his master went and showed him something impossible again.
"It's said the patriarch and his phoenix fought here, eight hundred years ago." Li Xun said, in the mild tone of a man sharing a particularly interesting piece of gossip. "They strove together against a great serpent with scales like living metal, it's coils wide enough to strangle a mountain. Yet, though the serpent god might have been large enough to encircle a mountain, the patriarch's hammer was terrible enough to break one."
"He broke a mountain?"
Li Xun shrugged.
"I wasn't there. He doesn't answer questions. The story doesn't specify. Maybe he missed, when he brought the hammer down."
"Missed." The monkey repeated. He missed, and carved out a space so massive it could
"When you boast of the Monkey King's power, how he might stand against any human cultivator? Understand, this is what it looks like when the greatest of us march to war. This is what it means to be a daoist, to challenge the heavens, to seek immortality. It means to look upon the grave of gods, to stand in the shadow of the impossible deeds, and to be undaunted."
Orange-crest shuddered, shaking himself out of his shock. Ugh. That made his robe pull on the fur of his lower back in a decidedly unpleasant manner.
"I'm not daunted." He lied. "Not one bit."
His master smiled down at him.
"Good. Tell yourself that, until you believe it."