These Heels Step Heavenward - A Jade Beauty's Isekai Gone Wild

I was inspired by Virtuous Sons, so I decided to write a xianxia meme story. The premise is relatively straight forward - take your archetypical ice queen jade beauty, dump her in an otome setting, insert memes.

Chapter 1: Truck-kun, Truck-kun, wherefore art thou, Truck-kun?
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What is a woman to do after reincarnating? Her cultivation crippled, the realm she inhabited foreign, and even her old name lost to her. There was one familiar comfort left to Daphne in these trying times: shopping.

There were some fates worse than dying Daphne supposed. She could have been poor.

From what Daphne had surmised, her father was one of the Emperor’s ministers, while her mother was the heiress of an ancient lineage. With such esteemed ancestry, the odds were good that this body of hers held some divine constitution, if only she could discover what it was! The old Daphne had done little to cultivate her qi or hone her body.

At least I’m not ugly, Daphne thought as she stared at her reflection in the hand mirror. If she had to describe her cheeks with one word, she would liken them to clouds—round, white, and too easily dampened by tears. She was a thin slip of a girl nearly seventeen, pretty and with a willowy waist, but how could she consider herself a jade beauty with such a soft body? Jade was smooth, but hard.

Like a gemstone even.

It was an intolerable state of affairs that she had to rely on others for her own protection. A pair of nights accompanied her carriage. Neither of them were dark-skinned, nor were they particularly inconspicuous in their gleaming armor, so it escaped her entirely why they named themselves that.

“Put it away,” Daphne said, waving away the servant and the hand mirror she held up.

“Yes, Lady Daphne,” the serving girl said. Her black dress had a white trim, with a ruffled half-apron tied at her waist. Her full skirt ended just above her knees, and a black lace garter and tights covered her lower legs. She also wore heels that were a few inches shorter than Daphne’s.

The carriage shuddered to a halt at the heart of an arrogant young town cultivating the dao of civilization. It was close to breaking into the city stage, but its lower population core had not finished condensing into slums.

Daphne stuck her head out the door, sweeping both ends of the street with her eyes. Only when she was confident there were no cabbage carts in sight did she step out her carriage. She would have looked for old monsters too but her body was more insensitive to qi than a hero to a woman’s feelings.

I suppose there is one benefit to this body, Daphne thought as she walked along the paved streets. It was well-accustomed to balancing on such high heels, and allowed her to look down on people even taller than herself.

The street she was on was filled with cake shops, seamstresses, and jewellers. Most importantly, it had that essential ingredient that a woman of noble birth required for any outing to be considered successful—poor orphans to perform charity upon. It was not enough to be rich, others had to know you were.

She patronized all the usual boutiques an aristocrat would at first, buying a dress here, having a half slice of desert there, letting the poor eat cake … but Daphne was here for a purpose. Beyond acquiring nice things, she was here to acquire useful things, and where better to stumble upon rare artifacts than the most rundown and dingy shops? When one mastered wei wu wei, the dao of doing non-doing, finding even a qilin’s horn or a millenia old ginseng root was as simple as shopping.

Chimes rubbed and rattled as she entered her shop of choice, located in one of the seedier side alleys jutting from the main street at an angle. One of the guards stood watch outside, barring anyone else from entry, while the other filtered in behind her and loomed menacingly. Ah, what was more familiar than having one’s junior stare daggers into someone for daring to breathe the same air as Daphne?

“My lady,” the shopkeep said, bowing and sending the last wisps of his graying hair aflutter. “How may I be of service?”

Daphne scanned through the pieces of jewelry displayed within glass casings. “Do you have any spatial rings?”

“Spatial rings?”

“Spatial rings,” Daphne said again.

“I’m not familiar with this particular design, but we have a wide selection available if you care to take a look,” the man said.

Though a fish swims in the sea, it does not comprehend its depths. There were indeed many fashions of rings from simple silver bands to golden ones that twisted into peculiar shapes. Through sheer numbers alone surely a few of these must be special in some way? “How much for the rings?” she asked.

“Which one’s caught your eye?”

“All of them.”

His jaw hung open.

“Also, if you’ve come into possession of any weapons or books that you haven’t been able to sell in a while, I’ll take a look at those too,” Daphne said.

The shopkeeper was silent for a long while, looking utterly lost. After seven long heartbeats, he answered, “My lady, this is a jewellry shop.”

“I see,” Daphne said with a frown. Unfortunate that they had no secret scriptures on hand. “So just the weapons then?”

Her guard cleared his throat. “Weapons aren’t jewelry, Lady Daphne.”

“You simply lack imagination,” Daphne said. “Everything is jewelry if you add enough gems.”

“As you say,” the guard said. “Still, why sully your hands with one?”

Daphne scoffed. “I’m not a barbarian. Just because there are people out there addicted to courting death does not mean I cannot look fabulous while granting their wish.”

“You have us knights for that,” he said. “You need only give the word, and we would strike down any fool that dares besmirch your honor.”

“Junior, what is your name?”

“I am William, squire to Sir Ronald the Red,” he said. “I … believe I am also older than you, my lady.”

Daphne flipped golden strands of hair over her shoulder. “Younger people can be senior too. Seniority is not about age.”

“As you say?” Will said, his brows drawing together. “In any case, we ought to return home soon, Lady Daphne. Night is falling quickly outside.”

“Call for the coachman then. I shall finish up here shortly,” Daphne said. She pinned the shopkeeper with a look. “Are you certain you have no weapons or scriptures?”

“I can check my stock again, if you’d like?” the shopkeeper offered.

“Please do,” Daphne said with a firm nod. Through the windows, Daphne spotted Will sharing words with the guard outside, before the guard left to summon her carriage. Was this what it was like being the heir to a sect? People just did things for you despite one’s lack of strength? Daphne decided she could get used to this.

“My lady,” her maid said in a small voice, “won’t your father disapprove of this? This is a significant purchase.”

Daphne pitied her servant, for she had eyes, but could not see Mount Tai. “I am only spending gold, but the treasures I might uncover here could be as rare as a phoenix’s feather!”

The maid glanced about the shop’s shelves, before turning back to her with a look. “What kind of treasure are you expecting to find here?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll find out soon enough,” Daphne said as the shopkeeper returned with a blanket. What immortal weapon or sacred treasure lay beneath the wool? Her fingers tingled in anticipation as she unwrapped the wool. It was a sword, because what else could it be? The steel was pockmarred by dried blood and rust and had lost its bite long ago. “Tell me about its history.”

“A tinker who used to supply me with gems left it here one day,” he said. “I never found the time to throw it out.”

So it belongs to someone else, Daphne thought. Should she take it with her? There might be many crouching tigers in this realm, and even a frog in a well knew not to wake a sleeping dragon! Still, it might draw a wandering master to her and perhaps she could convince him to take her on as a disciple? So long as she did not hold onto it stubbornly when the time came, who could fault her? “To throw it out is a waste. How much for it?”

“I wouldn’t dare take a copper penny for this after your patronage today!” the shopkeeper said. “If you want it, it’s yours.”

Her maid stepped forward to accept the rusted sword and the velvet box holding her rings as Daphne settled her account with the shopkeeper. The carriage had yet to arrive when they exited the shop. The sun had already set, and sordid men stepped out of the shadows, forming a ring around them.

They had been waiting for her it seemed.

 

Chapter 02: Ant...​

“Make way, or I’ll cut my way through the lot of you!” Will cried out, both hands drawing on the long grip of his estoc.

It was an empty threat unless Will was actually a monster in hiding. His meter long sword was ramrod straight with edges blunter than a father’s disappointment. Its tip—sharper than a mother-in-law’s tongue—was made for piercing through armor. With half a dozen men closing in on all sides, the length would be more hindrance than help as soon as someone grappled him.

If she let him fight, he would die. Daphne imagined Will face down on the street with blood drenching his armor and the cruciform hilt of the just out of reach estoc. It was a scene with all the critical attributes that artists loved to immortalize—tragedy, honor, a dead hero. The dead, and this is critical, cannot talk. This means artists cannot be disabused of inconvenient things like what really happened.

No, the outcome of this fight was as sure as the sunrise. Perhaps if the other guard had returned with her carriage already and Will had someone to guard his back things would be different.

“Why are you here?” Daphne asked the men, voice calm as an ocean in a painting of an insanely calm ocean.

Their leader, a middle-aged man with a great, scruffy beard brandished his knife at her. “For you.”

Not for her things, but for her. This was no mere robbery. “Are you … kidnapping me?” Daphne asked, keeping the excitement out of her words. Men were rarely so polite about it. Usually it involved a lot more shouting, or trying to sneak aphrodisiacs into her drink.

Will tensed, and pointed his sword at the man, keeping his own body between Daphne and the bandits.

“Right you are,” the leader said with a wide, toothy grin. He spat to the side before raising a brow at Will. “Move or be moved, boy. I won’t ask twice.”

“Step aside, Will,” Daphne said.

Will’s muscles tensed. “My lady?”

Daphne moved past him and beamed at the bandits. “Lead the way.”

“Lady Daphne, you can’t!” her maid said, tugging at the ruffled, slashed sleeves of her dress. “Your father—”

Will stepped in front of her again.

Their leader blinked. “What?”

“Lead the way,” Daphne said, enunciating each word slowly and clearly. A lifetime dealing with arrogant young masters had gifted her with great longsuffering. They could be particularly slow at times grasping the true meaning behind her words, like when they were being rejected.

“You … want to go with us?” the bandit said, sharing a look with his companions.

“I trust you don’t want to kill me,” Daphne said. If that was their goal, they would have just attacked immediately.

“No,” the bandit said. “We want to ransom you.”

“My father will pay handsomely when he hears about this,” Daphne said, before gesturing to Will. “You’ll have to let my servant go however.”

The bandit nodded amicably. “Gotta leave someone alive to carry the message. Course, we don’t need two people for that.”

“Well, you’ll have to bring my maid along too,” Daphne said. She felt her maid’s grip tightened.

“What for?”

“I’m a lady. I have standards.”

“Fine, we’ll bring the other girl along too,” he said.

“Lady Daph—” Will began, but she did not let him finish.

Daphne placed a finger against his lips. Shush, Will. Your senior is speaking,” she said, before turning to the bandits.“So are we agreed?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Will said in a whisper. “I … I can hold them off for a while. You can make a run for it.”

“Run?” Daphne quirked her brow. “In these heels?”

“You could take them off,” Will said.

Daphne gasped at his sacrilegious suggestion. “I would rather die,” she said vehemently. At least she’d look good while doing it! Besides, if these men were so confident as to steal away a woman of her station, surely they were successful in their profession. Who knows what treasures would be stashed away in their hideout? Maybe she’d even find a lost scripture to jumpstart her cultivation!

“I beg you to reconsider!” her maid said.

“You worry too much. It is only a matter of time before I am rescued. The heavens have ordained it,” Daphne said. And when she was rescued, she would know where their treasures were hidden. What was a little danger in the face of such rewards? “Will, put your sword down and send word to my father. I order it.”

He gnashed his teeth, but complied. “As you say, my lady.”

She stepped towards the bandits. Her ears picked up on the soft pitter-patter of wooden heels on cobblestone as her maid followed behind sullenly. All that mattered was that a servant obeyed.

“So what now?” she asked.

“Usually this is the part where you scream or struggle, and I threaten you,” the bandit said. “‘Don’t make a peep or I’ll leave a red smile on your throat!’ That kind of thing.

“We can skip all that I think.”

He nodded. “Right, we make our getaway now then. This way,” he said.

“Do you have a carriage prepared?” Daphne asked.

“No?” the bandit said.

Daphne tisked. “How inconsiderate of you. You should correct that the next time you kidnap a highborn lady. How are you supposed to make your getaway on foot?”

“We have horses nearby,” the bandit said. He took off his cloak and draped it over her, while another of his men did the same for her maid. When she looked at him in askance, he explained, “You draw too many eyes to you in that dress.”

“Thank you,” Daphne said. “That is the intent.” It was always nice when a man appreciated her clothes.

“Can’t we go any faster?” another man said in an irking, nasal tone.

Daphne glared at the offending voice. “A lady does not run.”

He swore. “This is the last time I’m takin’ a job like this ‘un.”

“After this, we won’t ever have to,” the leader said.

Ah, so they were hired by someone, Daphne thought. Careless of them to be speaking so freely when they did not even have the gold in hand yet. Unfortunately for them, there was no pill for regret.

To their credit, not only did they actually have horses and ones with swift, strong legs. Certainly not a breed just any peasant could afford. Surely these marked these men as masters in the dao of theft! Though there were enough horses for all of them, to her surprise half the men melted back into the shadows and the silence. Daphne’s hands were tied up with a coarse piece of rope, but they did not secure it very well.

The leader helped her mount, then sat behind her. Someone did the same for her maid.

“Hang on tight,” he said, the warmth of his breath tickling her ear.

Being on a horse, Daphne decided, was far preferable to riding in a carriage. She was used to looking down on others from the summit of a mountain or atop her flying sword. This didn’t quite capture the same magic, but it was better than nothing for now.

They rode the horses hard, encountering no resistance along the way. Once they were safely beyond the furthest possible reach of any array formations protecting the town, they switched to their spare horses, but kept up their breakneck pace. The bandit’s hideout was deep within the woods, suitably far from any settlement so as to not disturb their closed door cultivation.

“Here we are,” the bandit leader said, helping her off the horse and leading her into the cabin.

Her maid, the silly girl, was sobbing. What was there to cry about when the heavens had delivered this opportunity to them? Soon, untold treasures would be within her grasp!

“Slow down,” the beaded leader said, perplexed that she seemed more eager than him to get indoors. “I thought ladies didn’t run?”

“We don’t,” Daphne said. “But when the occasion calls for it, we hurry.”

It was a cozy little abode and well-lived in. One of the men, made distinct by his crooked nose, went to coax the hearth back to life, while the youngest of them, about Daphne’s age if she had to guess, barred the door. Her velvet box carrying the rings had been placed on the table.

“While we’re waiting, do you mind if I try some of these on?” Daphne asked as the rope which bound her wrists was removed. “I hadn’t finished fitting them all.”

The men shared a look. “Do you even understand what situation you’re in?” the youngest one asked in that awful, weasely voice of his.

“You’re waiting for my parents to pay my ransom,” Daphne said without blinking. “Doesn’t mean I have to spend that time bored.”

The men glanced at each other, before Crooked Nose shrugged. “What can it hurt, Jared? Let her entertain herself.”

“No names,” Weasel Voice hissed.

“Do you know how many bloody Jareds there are in this region?” the leader said with a hint of amusement. “They’d have to sift through every fifth man to find you.”

“So,” Daphne asked, trying on each ring in turn, and holding it up against the moonlight, “do you do this often? The kidnapping I mean? You seem quite prepared.”

The leader let his shoulders slump. “Gotta make a living. You seem awfully relaxed for a woman who’s just been abducted. Lots of experience getting kidnapped?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Daphne said. What had she to fear from these men? All they sought was wealth. Far more dangerous were those demonic cultivators who wished to use this divine body of hers as a cauldron.

They were already a vast improvement over the usual toad lusting after swan meat.

 

Chapter 03: Agonist​

As the days passed slowly, Daphne continued to look for the treasures hidden in their residence. The men seemed content to let her move about as she pleased, so long as she did not leave the house itself. Crooked Nose followed her like a dog as she flitted from room to room, his unconscious soul already acknowledging her as his master, which was only appropriate.

Daphne had not found their treasures yet, but success was not acquired without a measure of sweat—metaphorical, that is. Literal sweating was for peasants and sect initiates.

“What is it you’re even looking for?” Crooked Nose asked. “Nothing interesting ‘ere if you ask me.”

Open your eyes and see the truth for yourself! Daphne thought with scorn. “I’m just tidying up,” she lied as easily as she breathed.

“Please mistress, there’s no need to trouble yourself,” her maid pleaded, claiming the wooden duster Daphne had been using to check for traps.

“Oh very well,” Daphne said, surrendering it without much fuss. Her use for it was coming to an end anyway. So far, she had not found any statues to kowtow to, or hidden chests with false floors, or even a single book. If they had a hidden dimension, she’d not witnessed any of them access it. Perhaps these men were craftier than she thought? This might be a realm with many crouching tigers and hidden dragons if even lowly bandits practiced this much prudence!

When she was not sweeping through the house, Daphne worked on her cultivation. It was remarkably peaceful out in the woods with no one to distract her when she sat still for hours on end. Her qi sensitivity was still faint, but she could already tell the natural energies which surrounded this place were much stronger than the cold limestone and dead wood of her family’s castle. A few more days here would surely see her fully awaken her qi sense and she could begin condensing her qi. If her stay lasted that long, it would have made this deviation on her way to heaven worthwhile.

There was a soft knock on the door of the room that had been set aside for her. “Lady Daphne, you’re still awake?” her maid said, peeking inside. “The candle burns low.”

“It’s not that late,” Daphne said, letting one eye open to spy on said candle. It still had an hour’s measure of time in it at least!

“It’s nearing midnight.”

Daphne frowned as she stifled the urge to yawn. “Like I said, it’s not that late.” Even a lowly sect initiate was expected to be able to cultivate for hours on end, and once one finished cleansing their body by refining their qi in the foundation establishment stage, sleep was not even necessary! She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times.

“You’re falling asleep where you sit,” her maid said, taking note of her lotus stance. A shame that there were no mulberry trees to sit under here.

“Just five more minutes,” Daphne said. What was five minutes to a one in a million genius like her? This should be well within her grasp as a disciple of the Elegant Swan Sect!

“If you fall asleep in this position, you’ll be sore in the morning, my lady,” the maid said. After a moment’s consideration, she added, “Proper sleep is a necessity or you’ll ruin your beauty.”

Ah, her maid was a crafty one to resort to such terrifying logic! Even for a genius like herself, it could take years before she broke past foundation establishment and left behind the impurities of form. Until then, she would have to take care of her body, lest she leave the world lesser and bereft of her beauty. Grudgingly, Daphne allowed herself to be helped onto a bed. It had a wooden frame with a mattress stuffed with straw instead of feathers. Her captors had not a bed to spare, nor the space for it, and so her maid slept on the floor at Daphne’s side with a bedding of hay, reeds, and rushes.

When morning rolled around, Daphne was treated to a peculiar sight. Only Crooked Nose sat at the dining table near the hearth to break his fast on a diet of rye bread, beer, and onions. Weasel, or Jared as he was called by the others, and the bandit leader were nowhere to be seen.

“Good news, my lady,” Crooked Nose said as she sat on the seat across him, but did not partake of any food. As she’d been informed, the honorable men and women of this realm ate only two meals at midday and in the evening. To break one’s fast so early was a sign of poverty, usually indicating a farmer or laborer who needed the energy to sustain their morning’s work or too weak to resist hunger for a short while.

“Let’s hear it,” Daphne said.

“We’ve come to terms with your family over your ransom,” Crooked Nose said. “You’ll be free of us soon ‘nuff.”

Daphne waited for nine heartbeats—an important number matching the number of lakes in a sacred province the people of this realm had likely never heard of—before asking, “So what’s the good news?”

Crooked Nose tilted his head. “That is the good news?”

“How can that be good?” she demanded. She hadn’t even found any treasure yet! The heavens had not arranged this fortuitous encounter for Daphne only for her to return home empty-handed! “How soon?”

“A few hours at most,” Crooked Nose said.

There was only one thing to be done now.

Daphne stood. “Do you mind if I try on a few more rings while we wait?”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug and returned to chewing his food.

Unlike before, Daphne picked out the rings carefully. Each one was studded with a hard gemstone, and when she finished slipping them onto her left hand, she rotated each one so that they faced her palm. “Be thankful that I, your granddaddy, am feeling merciful today,” Daphne said. “As long as you kowtow to this granddaddy a thousand times, leave behind your treasures, cut off an arm and a leg, and cripple your cultivation and manhood, then I just might deign to leave you with an arguably intact corpse after taking your doggy life.”

Crooked Nose kept on eating. Only when he had swallowed—good manners on his part—did he reply. “You’re a woman,” he said. “You’re also younger than me.”

What was with the people of this world focusing so much on such trivialities? How were they ever to grasp the immensity of heaven and earth while worrying about such things? “I do not have time to go into this, but a woman can be a granddaddy too,” Daphne said. “Show me where you’ve hidden your treasure, and I will not exterminate your family to the ninth relation!”

He quirked his brow at her, a befuddled grin spreading across his face. Crooked Nose stood, and stepped up to her. “‘Fraid I’m an orphan. No kids too. Besides, I don’t think you want to piss me off, little miss.”

“The word you’re looking for is antagonize,” Daphne said, examining the back of her hand one last time. “Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“Antagonize comes from two words,” she explained. “The ant, an insect, and agonize derived from agony which means to suffer. When you have stood atop the heavens and looked down upon this earth, you will realize that antagonists are merely insects that suffer each time your boot comes crashing down.”

She stepped down hard, driving the sharp bite of her heel into his foot. His face twisted into a rictus of pain, his grin wiped away in an instant as he hunched forward—right into her curled right fist. Daphne punched as she’d been taught, envisioning her fist going through his face instead of at it. The man was lucky she’d yet condense her qi, or she would not need to content herself to just the satisfying crack of bone and fixing his nose.

He was not down yet, and were she to give him the chance to regain his bearings, his strength would surely surpass this untoned body of hers. Daphne did then what every arrogant young master and jade beauty knew to do practically from birth—she slapped him.

The inside of her left palm, lined with stones, drew long, red lines across his forehead and close to his eye. Crooked Nose—-though perhaps it was more appropriate to call him Broken Nose—howled in pain as blood leaked down his sunburnt cheeks and seeped into his eyes.

For good measure, she kicked him in the groin, and that was the last straw which broke him. “Tell me where your treasures are hidden,” Daphne asked again.

He moaned and groaned and gripped his crotch with both hands, as if that would spare him further pain. “Treasure?” Crooked Nose exclaimed. “You are looking for treasure here?”

“Yes, and be quick about it. I don’t have all day,” Daphne said.

“There is no treasure!” he screamed. “Not here!”

“So it does exist somewhere,” Daphne mused out loud.

“You’re insane.”

Daphne frowned at this foolish toad. She had issued threats, and a threat not acted on was no threat at all. Now, honor demanded she fulfill her word. She stomped on him with her heel once, twice, thrice for good measure, driving the spike of her shoe into his hands and what they feebly tried to cover.

“I did say I would exterminate your family to the ninth relation. You will be the last of your line,” Daphne said.

All this had occurred in the time it took to spark a light.

Her maid heard the commotion and rushed into the room from whatever it is that kidnapped maids did in the morning. She took one look at Broken Nose, before rushing over to Daphne. “What happened?”

“This junior dared defy me,” Daphne said, simple yet profound.

“My lady, your hand is hurt,” her maid said, gently holding up her right hand. The knuckles were sore and scraped. In the heat of the moment, Daphne had not realized, but with her dao heart no longer deviating, the pain was reasserting itself.

“Nevermind that!” Daphne said. “We have to find their treasure.”

“We have to bandage your hand,” her maid said. “It’ll scar if you don’t take care of it.

Ah, her maid was a crafty one to resort to such terrifying logic!

 

Chapter 04: Blood of My Blood
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Daphne and her maid spent hours tearing through the house together with little finesse now constraining them now, but the search yielded nothing. Truly heaven disposes of even the best plans that man proposes!

​

So great was her despair that she coughed up blood.

​

“My lady!” Her maid cried out, and was quick to stain her white cotton kerchief by dabbing Daphne’s mouth. “Do you feel pain anywhere? Did he hurt you?” She bit her lip. “Did the brute … try something?”

​

“He was a mere ant that dared to posture before me. Subduing him was as easy as lifting a hand,” Daphne said, eyeing the hovel she’d been captive in with a mournful look. She suddenly found her face pressed against her servant’s heart as she was embraced tightly. Dextrous fingers made comforting, small round circles on her back, and the sensation was not displeasing so Daphne allowed the minor insolence to pass.

​

Mercy was the privilege of the strong after all.

​

Yet Daphne clung to hope. Surely the leader and Jared would return home soon, to abscond with Broken Nose and their ill-gotten gains before her father arrived? She would ravage them then! Of course, that required preparing an ambush.

​

She’d defeated Broken Nose with ease, but her childish right hand still whined of pain from the exertion of a single strike. Truly, it was courting death! Did her hand not know what a tremendous honor it was that Daphne had graced this untrained body by practicing the Eighth Form of the Elegant Swan Scripture? In her sect, if a disciple acted like this he would not be a disciple.

​

Ah, but she would give her hand some face today and not cripple it. To cut it off would be to cut herself, and Daphne rather liked having two hands to do nothing with. How could she continue to cultivate wei wu wei, the doing of non-doing, with one hand?

​

Sparing one face was not the same as sparing one from punishment. Her hand would be taught its place in the world, the place of all things under heaven—serving her.

​

That was how Daphne was found, embraced betwixt the copse of trees with the bound form of Broken Nose but a few paces away.

​

Unfortunately, it was her father who found her, and not the returning bandits.

​

Margrave Adam Greenglade arrived atop a destrier, fitted for war in a finely crafted plate. A golden script danced across it, gleaming ever bright in the light of the sun. Her father was a broad-shouldered man in his fifties with thick trunks for arms and a receding hairline. Like Daphne, his eyes were a pale blue hue flecked with specks of grey and were crowned by full, expressive eyebrows that betrayed his feelings. Worry, Daphne recognized that look from the many arrogant toads squashed beneath her heel, but also relief, knowing that their death would be quick.

​

Mercy was the privilege of the strong after all, and Daphne was the strongest.

​

“Thank the gods!” Father exclaimed as he dismounted and ran up to her. Her maid released her, and she was enveloped by the crushing embrace of her father.

​

“Why are you here?” Daphne asked.

​

He pulled back, still holding her by the shoulders and frowned. “What do you mean?”

​

“You are the Emperor’s minister,” Daphne said. To leave court without leave was to court death. “How can you be away from court at this time?”

​

“You were kidnapped,” Father said. “Of course I came. His Highness understands the duties of a father to his family.”

​

“I suppose,” Daphne said.

​

He peaked at the bound form of Broken Nose. “What happened here?”

​

“He courted death,” Daphne replied, simple and profound. It explained everything, yet it explained nothing.

​

Father cupped her face, pinching her cheeks softly, then glanced down at her hands. “You’re injured.”

​

“Merely a flesh wound,” Daphne said dismissively. “My maid has seen to it.”

​

His expression likened to a storm. “There really is no honor amongst thieves! They promised you would be released unharmed.” He turned to the knights accompanying him. “Take him.”

​

“Yes, Lord Greenglade!” they said, thumping their right breast with mailed hands in salute.

​

“Is he the only one here?” Father asked.

​

“There were six men who attacked us,” Daphne said. “Only three of them brought us here, the others remained in the city. When I woke this morning, only he remained.”

​

Father nodded. “And how did you subdue him?”

​

“Easily,” Daphne said.

​

His eyes softened and he embraced her again. “My brave, brave girl. Don’t worry. I, your father, will bring these men to justice.”

​

“But how will you find them?” Daphne asked.

​

“They dared kidnap my sole heir, and thought to barter away your life with mere gold,” Father said. “Greed has ever been the downfall of men. I had one of the coins laced with a tracking spell. We’ll find them, don’t you worry.”

​

Daphne’s thoughts froze. “Are you saying they had a secret hideout elsewhere?”

​

Father bobbed his head. “This hut used to be someone else’s no doubt, and they merely occupied it. If thieves were known for hard work, they would not need to be thieves.”

​

Daphne sent silent thanks to the heavens. It was not that her dao of seeking could not overcome their dao of hiding, it was simply that the treasures she was looking for were elsewhere! “I would like to see this hideout of theirs when you’ve dealt with them.” With their treasures in hand, she would be like a carp leaping through the dragon gate as she advanced by leaps and bounds, gaining twice the results for half the effort, and ascending to heaven in a single bound!

​

“There’s no need to concern yourself,” Father said.

​

Her maid kowtowed all of a sudden, dirtying her dress by rolling in the muck and mud. “Begging your pardon for the interruption, my lord, but I must tell you something urgently.”

​

“Rise,” Father said. “What is it?”

​

Her maid glanced at Daphne with mournful eyes, then she leaned close to whisper something into Father’s ear.

​

His visage darkened once more, like a clan patriarch avenging himself on a hero for insults given to his sister-in-law’s nephew twice removed. “They did what!”

​

Her maid lowered her eyes and she trembled before the brewing storm made man.

​

“I’ll have them all killed for this! There is nowhere under heaven that the wicked can hide from tribulation, not even deep within the mountains!” he roared, the match of any storm. He turned to his knights who had grabbed Broken Nose. “End his life slowly.”

​

“As you command!”

​

“This won’t go unpunished, my daughter,” Father said. “This I swear to you before the gods.”

​

There was nothing for her to do but nod. His anger was to the point that his blood was no doubt flowing in reverse. “Is Mother with you?”

​

“She’s waiting in the carriage,” Father said. “Come, we’ll take you home.”

​

It was still a small trek to the carriage given the hut Daphne had been kept in deviated even from the dirt paths that ran through the forest. She was, of course, still wearing her heels, and as one might imagine that made walking on uneven ground difficult in the extreme. To her delight, her father swept her up and carried her in his arms. It was not quite the same as flying, but at least she was not troubling her feet by walking.

​

Her mother, Lilith, was a fair fairy of a woman. Her mother was the sun—with an ever present, almost oppressive, beauty that left the world brightened by her mere existence. Daphne could not compare—not as she currently was—for she was the moon, breathtaking in its own, subtler way, but always borrowing the light of the sun. Were she not her daughter, Daphne might have been seized with jealousy, but as her daughter it could only be seen as a fortuitous sign. Even in this world, she was a favored child of the heavens for whoever heard of a jade beauty not destined for greatness?

​

“Daphne, I was so worried!” Mother said, drawing her to the seat besides her. “I told you to take more guards. With your health as it is ...”

​

“Mother, please forgive me!” Daphne said. “I was a measly frog in the well, unable to see Mount Tai!”

​

Her expression softened. “Shhh, my lovely swan, don’t say such a thing about yourself. I have told you before that you must believe in yourself if anyone is to believe in you. Purge such thoughts and words from yourself.”

​

Daphne nodded solemnly. “I will intensify my efforts.” She would bring shame to her venerable parents if she were not able to break into qi condensation soon.

​

“Lily,” Father began, “maybe it’s time we let Daphne return to the academy?”

​

“You want to send her back to where it happened? She’s only just starting to recover from her accident. Not a month ago she would not even wake!” Mother said.

​

“She’s nearly seventeen and the summer months are at an end,” Father said. “If we delay, she will fall further behind her peers. We always knew we’d have to send her back at some point. Her education in magic is incomplete.”

​

Magic, Daphne thought. What a peculiar word for cultivation these people had.

​

“Is this about Prince Hadrian?” Mother asked. “Word has reached me of his plans to transfer in from the Imperial School, but there’s no reason to rush things. Our Daphne will surely charm him in her own time,” Mother said.

​

Father frowned. “It’s not her future prospects I worry about. We agreed long ago she was better suited as a glove than a fist, but I fear she must soon know how to defend herself,” Father said.

“Dear, we have knights for that,” Mother said.

​

“I fear it may not be enough,” Father said, lips set in a grim line. “This blow against our family, struck by some hidden hand, has woken me to a truth I’ve long run from. Dark times are ahead of us.”

​

“But it’s so soon,” Mother said. “She didn’t even know who we were for a while, how can we expect her to thrive at the academy in her state? She would need to know the names of half a hundred people—”

​

“Mother, do not fret over that,” Daphne said. “I shall double my efforts so that our family does not lose face before our peers.” Never let it be said she was not a filial daughter, that she did not know when to exert herself to save face.

​

“Are you sure about this?” Mother asked.

​

“I am,” Daphne said. At this academy, this sect, she would surely come under the tutelage of old monsters—and with that tutelage came momentary protection from the greater dangers. Of course, she would not be content to be shielded from such things by others for long, but the academy would also be where many scriptures could be found.

​

Mother sighed. “If you’re sure, I won’t stop you.”

Daphne beamed at her. If she was lucky, she might even be able to, ahem, convince her lessers to hand over their spirit stones! How fortuitous!​

 

AN: My fellow disciples, I must report a deviation in my cultivation. The previous chapter has been amended so that Honored Swan Sister Daphne is now only returning to the academy, not attending for the first time.​

Chapter 05: Fair Maiden​

The great clans of this realm did not rule from within the cities, but raised limestone walls and array formations centered around formidable forts. Nor did they keep themselves entirely secluded on spiritual land so that their virtuous sons and daughters would not suffer deviation in their cultivation, as Daphne would expect from the hermit sects. No, many not of their clan were permitted entry into these castles—servants, scholars, and soldiers who were not and would never be taught the clan scriptures.

Even the scions of rival clans were shown face and allowed entry if they but presented themselves at the gate. Why some of them visited was beyond her. There was no marriage tournament being held, nor were they here to trade pointers. They would come, stay for a night, then just leave as if their only purpose was stopping by.

It was a most perplexing state of affairs.

From their castle, the Greenglades claimed dominion over a hundred li in each direction, and a hundred thousand souls. The character of that rule was not an iron fist though, but a velvet glove. Lords and warlords swore their loyalty to House Greenglade, and while subordinates were necessary for administration, those subordinates were kings in their own right within their lands. They passed their seats to their children, could rule by their own writ, and even defied theirs on occasion.

Had a lesser sect that obeyed a greater sect dared display such defiance, they would have been torn out by the roots.

Beneath these ruling lords were knights and mages-at-arms, who honed their skills at death against each other not unlike core disciples, though in her old life it usually did not involve armor. Finally, at the base of this societal pyramid were the peasants—the strawborn as her mother liked to call them. It was they who toiled in soil, herded livestock, and gathered the harvest. By the sweat of their brows were their betters clothed and fed, and for their efforts they were thanked by surrendering a portion of their produce as tax.

It was an unjust arrangement. Obviously the only fair system would be if all the people worked for Daphne.

Her father would be returning to the Imperial City soon which was to their north, but before he left there was one last piece of business to attend to.

“You don’t have to watch this,” Mother said, as their knights dragged the beaten and bloodied body of Broken Nose to the chopping block.

“She’s your heir and the future Lady Greenglade,” Father said. “One day, her hand might be forced to take up the sword in defense of her ancient rights. She cannot flinch so easily from death, not of others.”

Daphne rested the side of her face on her propped up fist, resting on the arm of her seat. “To kill this man is a waste.”

“After what he did to you, it is necessary,” Father said.

Daphne understood the need to preserve face, for one robbed of honor was not even human anymore. Still, that did not mean restitution needed to be death. A good beating, like what she’d inflicted on Broken Nose, sufficed sometimes. “The world would be quite an empty place if we killed everyone over face each time.”

“And what would you have us do with him then? There must be punishment, Daphne,” Mother said.

“Make him my servant,” Daphne said without blinking. “I could use a footstool.” Besides, he might know more of where his friends were hiding with their treasures. That he had the gall not to tell her immediately that the hut was not the true hideout of his friend was disappointing though. She would have to train such behavior out of him.

They shared a look. “You … want him to serve you? You want to keep him around after what he did?”

“Oh, he defied me to be sure, but I made him pay for that,” Daphne said.

“He defied you?” Father asked, brows drawing together. “I thought …”

“Thought what?” Daphne asked, sitting upright and turning to look at him.

“Your maid said he … tried to have his way with you.”

The only thing she could do was laugh. “As if that rat could lay a finger on me!” Daphne said. That he’d been bested so easily by a girl of poor physique showed his qi was not even awakened, or even trained in any techniques. How could such a pitiful being think he was fit to do anything to her other than being a footstool? “I had him subdued in three strikes,” Daphne said with a tinge of embarrassment. A true cultivator would have needed only the flick of a finger to deal with such pests.

“So he didn’t touch you?” Father asked.

“Of course not. Why on earth would my maid think that?” Daphne asked, sending a pointed look at the girl in question.

She bowed her head timidly. “Many apologies, my lady! I only came into the room when he was on the floor. Before that, I heard a struggle taking place, and assumed wrongly. You were never one to resort to violence.”

“He still abducted you. Such a crime against the stoneborn is punishable by death too,” Father said.

Daphne sighed. This was taking too much of her valuable time. She could be cultivating right now, or learning the names of the clan heirs she would soon be meeting! “Then kill him and be done with it. I will take his head myself if it helps the proceedings end any faster.”

“If Daphne is being serious, then let us put the choice to the criminal,” Mother said. “Death or duty until death, as is our custom.”

“Death or duty,” Father agreed. He rose from his seat and gestured for Daphne to follow. “Stay your blade, Sir Ronald.” The knight with a blood red tabard over his mail paused, lowering his axe back to his side. “You are fortunate that my daughter wishes you to have a choice, scum,” Father said. “You may face death here and now, or death after a life of duty to the one you wronged.”

“Death or death, what choice is that?” Broken Nose spat out.

“How can a man claim to be surprised that death is upon him when one is courting death?” Daphne asked. “Choose quickly, Broken Nose. I have things to do today.”

He closed his eyes for several heartbeats, before bowing his head like a dog. An animal would always be true to their nature in the end. “I choose duty.”

“Clean him up, heal that nose of his, and brand him,” Father said.

“My name is Rhian,” Broken Nose said.

Not a very heroic name, Daphne thought. Besides, with his looks, it was almost certain the heavens did not favor him. Broken Nose, then, was inconsequential to her. She turned to her father. “Will you be returning north to the Imperial City now?”

He sighed. “I should, now that you are safe again. Your mother will see to the rest of the bandits; I have given her the strings to the spell.” Father glanced at the position of the sun overhead. “Though I’ve been gone long enough that the Imperial City should be further west now.”

She blinked. “What do you mean? How can a city move?” She had seen many wonders in her old life and been privy to many secret scriptures, but what dao of civilization allowed a city to move on its own?

“The Imperial City is a castle on a cloud,” he explained patiently.

“Are you saying it flies?” When he nodded, Daphne had decided. “I’m going to marry the prince.” That she had to writhe in the earth like a graceful silkworm while others could look down on her from the skies was simply intolerable. Also, the prince was a prince. He was sure to be a man of great strength and character, and a most excellent partner to dual cultivate with.

If he were not, the heavens would not have blessed him with such good fortune.

“That is not a choice you should rush into lightly,” Father cautioned. “You are your mother’s only daughter. If you were to marry the prince, you would have to surrender your birthright, your claim to Greenglade.”

“But I would be a princess,” Daphne said.

“A consort,” Father said. “A princess-consort, when Prince Hadrian ascends to the Starlight Throne, and only one of many. Are you sure you could live with that?”

“Of course I can,” Daphne said without hesitation. The prince was destined to be a hero, and a hero was destined to have a harem. That simply was.

 

Chapter 06: The Last Stone in Suzhou​

Daphne growled in frustration, and quashed the urge to pull at her hair. It would be a shame to ruin it after her maid had spent an hour braiding it this morning. She was to leave for the academy any day now, and she’d yet to awaken her qi. Not even meditating beneath a mulberry tree had worked!

How was she to give her family face like this? It would be akin to attending a ball underdressed or allowing one’s spatial rings to be inspected after returning victorious from an otherworldly tournament.

Just when she’d been on the verge of breaking into qi condensation too! Idly, she wondered if she should let herself return to closed door cultivation, before setting the thought aside. It was preposterous to even suggest it. Allowing oneself to be abducted twice in such a short period of time would cause her family great shame. The other option, running away of her own volition, would be even worse than getting kidnapped again. What would people think of her then?

One told the world of weakness; the other screamed of her foolishness for falling in love with a peasant.

There was only one thing to do now.

“I want you to buy me a few bags of stones,” Daphne said to Broken Nose. Deep foundations were a sign of strong cultivation, and it was best not to resort to crutches like spirit stones so early on. But better than best was saving face!

He stared at her as if she’d just said something utterly strange. “Buy a few bags of stones?”

“Fine,” Daphne said with a huff. It was true what they said that a tiger could not change his stripes. “Steal me some stones.” It was the dao that he practiced after all, and if he wanted to put himself in more danger on her behalf to atone, then why not let him?

“You mean like a gemstone?” Broken Nose asked. It really was no longer an accurate description seeing as a medician had seen to his nose, but a tigress could not change her stripes either. He would always be Broken Nose to her.

“If I wanted a gemstone, I’d buy one for myself,” Daphne said. As if a man could be trusted to pick out jewelry that suited her. “I don’t care how you acquire them, just that you do it quickly.”

“As you say, m’lady.” He knelt down, plucking a rock from the dirt path of the gardens ever blooming and presented it to her. “I didn’t buy or steal it from anyone on account of it not being worth anything, but you gotta admit it was quick. So, who we throwin’ it at?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “This is not the kind of rock I’m looking for.”

Broken Nose frowned. “There are different kinds?”

Only a strawborn peasant could be so ignorant. No wonder she had defeated him so easily. Daphne sighed. Good help was so hard to find. “What of medicinal pills? Do you know what those are?”

“Medicine?” Broken Nose said. “Couldn’t you just ask your hystor for some?”

“I’ve tried,” Daphne said. “He wouldn’t give me the ones I wanted.”

His eyes lit up in understanding. “Ah, that kind of medicine.”

Finally he was catching on! “So, do you know someone who can acquire it?”

“My lady!” her maid said, unable to hold her silence any longer. “I must protest. If someone were to learn you were seeking out pills, it would cause a scandal! Please, think on this longer.”

Daphne frowned. Were pills not widely used in this world? What an odd way to cultivate, but it did explain why she was having such a difficult time getting her hands on them. “That’s why I’m using him to get it for me,” Daphne said with a smile. “After all there are only three of us here, and I’m certainly not going to tell anyone. Are you?”

“Of course not, my lady,” her maid said quickly. “I am your loyal servant.”

She glanced at Broken Nose, who held his hands up in surrender. “It’d be suicide of me to try. Even if anyone believed me with this mark,” —he turned his cheek, where hot iron had caressed his soul in the shape of three vertical bars, a fist gripping the left and right ones— “my life is in your hands. You could have your knights slit my throat, or hell, do it yourself and no one would blink an eye. I’ve sworn an oath before the great gods too, and I may steal from people, but never from the divine.”

Yet you dared to steal from me, Daphne thought. The man’s lies were plain as day, and the oaths of an oathbreaker might as well be written in water. Still, the other reasons he provided ought to suffice for her purposes. “It’s agreed then,” Daphne said. “You will get me the pills before I depart, and we will not speak a whisper of this to anyone ever.”

“As you say, my lady,” they said in synchrony. It was nice when the people you spoke with knew your mind.

Of course, the question remained: what was she to do while waiting for the pills? Trying to cultivate here was yielding miniscule progress for a one in a million genius like herself.

“Lady Daphne?” a woman with twin inky hexagrams on her cheeks interrupted her thoughts.

Daphne knew that to be a peculiarity of the scholar-bureaucrats of this realm. “Good day, hystor.”

“You father has asked me to speak with you,” the hystor said. “Might we sit somewhere?”

“Of course,” Daphne said, leading her to a secluded enclave within the sprawling gardens of Greenglade Castle. There was a stone bench carved to look like the aged stump of a tree, while hanging vines partially concealed them from sight. “What does this concern?” she asked after they settled in.

“He mentioned you intend to court Prince Hadrian,” the hystor said. “Given your condition, Lord Greenglade thought it prudent I speak with you over the full implications of that. Your mother, the Lady External, agreed.”

“Something about losing my claim to this castle, yes?”

The hystor nodded. “This castle, and all the lands that owe it fealty. House Greenglade is an ancient one, having risen high when the Morrs still ruled the Kingdom Ever Blooming some six hundred years ago.”

“Just six hundred years ago?” Daphne asked, frowning.

“Few kingdoms or great regions can claim to be as long lived as ours,” the hystor said. “The Heartlands to the south, and maybe the Dunelands, depending on how one interprets their chronicles.”

How could that be considered old by any sane measure? Any cultivator not destined to die a dog’s death could live that long easily, and a single generation was hardly old, nevermind ancient. Were they ants to live such short lives? “I would be the wife of the future Emperor though.”

“Assuming Prince Hadrian ascends to the Starlight Throne, which is not certain,” the hystor said.

“He is the eldest son,” Daphne said.

“But he is not the eldest child,” the hystor said. “Princess Lydia is a year older, and her claim is as strong as any. In truth, despite what we hystors might preach, we have little precedent for how the succession will be handled. The Empire has not been truly unified since it fractured after the Great Conquests of Emperor Jaeson. We must also keep in mind that not all the great regions are like the Everbloom. There are some for whom being eldest is not enough to guarantee they inherit.”

“In short, it’s complicated,” Daphne said.

The hystor smiled. “Quite.”

No matter, Daphne decided. The first cultivator to reach the heavens had no precedence to follow either. What did it matter that there was no one’s footsteps to follow? Everything began somewhere, and her fate was her fate. As for her inheritance, what use did she have for such worldly things, when the prize she sought was not of this world? Power brought with it wealth, but wealth did not necessitate power.

Though I suppose one’s name being remembered is a sort of immortality too, Daphne thought. For her descendants to be able to look back at her, to make herself impervious to even the ravages of time … there was power in that. But for that to occur, whoever was to inherit would need to be competent. “Who will inherit after me?” she asked.

“Seeing as you are the only child of your parents, I believe your cousin Blaise is next in line,” the hystor said. “He will be attending the academy this fall as well.”

Then she would meet him there, and judge whether her cousin was a virtuous son, whether he was arrogant enough to be a young master.

A family was a house one never finished building, each member a stone stacked upon each other. Together, they were strong, but those stones which reached for the heavens relied on a strong foundation rooted in the earth. For a family as young as Daphne’s to end so suddenly, for her cousin to be the last stone in suzhou, that was a tragedy.

AN: I recently started building up a discord server for anyone who wants to discuss any of my stories to hang out. If you wanna stop by for a chat, or just ask me stuff, feel free to join. It's open to everyone.

 

Chapter 07: Doing Non-Doing​

Her mother was the very picture of a proper lady, holding a thin, tall glass of Grove’s Gold by its stem. A steel sword hung from the hip of her flowing, lacy dress. “Come, let me have a look at you,” Mother said to Daphne.

She presented herself to her parent as any filial daughter would. Her dress was slashed at the sleeves, the periwinkle blue fabrics mixing with her beige undergown. The sleeves were tight to the elbow, but widened at the wrist. A laurel of sweet-smelling roses rested on her crown and blonde hair flowed down to her shoulders in waves.

“You are a flower, my dear,” Mother said, “but even a flower must have its thorns.” Her mother’s personal maid stepped forward, carrying an applewood box. It was immediately obvious this was the work of a master craftsman, for the trees of Greenglade were etched finely into the grain.

Daphne received the gift graciously, which of course meant her maid stepped forward to accept. Actually carrying things was the lot of strawborn and servants. Her maid returned to her side, and carefully opened the box, revealing a set of hairpins sharpened into small staves, a small dagger, and, best of all, a pair of new stilettos. A lady could never have too many shoes to step on people with.

“Weapons,” Daphne said.

“To be noble is to balance courtesy and combat,” Mother said, nodding. This was not the first time Daphne had heard her say this. She was, Daphne had surmised, an avid practitioner of the Scriptures of Glove and Fist. “If you are set on returning to the academy, you must be ready to defend yourself whether with word or sword.” She paused. “With summer nearly over, we don’t have the time to have a runesteel sword crafted for your hand, so these will have to do.”

She knew not what this runesteel was, but if Daphne had to guess it was an artifact of some sort. “I can make do with a regular sword for now.” She was not a master of the sword styles, but her master had trained her in two-sword style of shuangdao, as well as the swan sword scriptures.

“There is no time to teach you the basics of swordsmanship. Besides, carrying plain steel is not good enough for the likes of us. We are not so poor that we cannot afford better for you,” Mother said.

Loss of face—that Daphne understood. Better that a jade beauty wear nothing than have her perfection marred by rags! “But bronze is better?” Daphne asked, picking up the dagger and holding it up against the sun.

“You should know that bronze channels magic better,” Mother said, setting aside her drink. She stood, and gestured for Daphne to follow her to the war yards where their knights traded pointers daily under the purview of the master-at-arms. “Bearing a sword is a right of the stoneborn, but rights must be defended. To your peers, they would take a sword at your hip as a declaration of your will and your willingness to defend that right.”

Greetings of “Margravess” and “Lady External” filled the air at their approach. “How may we be of service?” the master-at-arms asked, stroking his thick mustache.

“I require a demonstration for my daughter,” Mother said. “Steel on bronze. The classical spells will suffice.”

The master-at-arms pointed to two men clad in chainmail and hauberk. They stepped forward, drawing their swords from sheaths. At some hidden signal, Daphne sensed qi flowing into their swords, taking its shape, not unlike water poured into a cup. The bronze sword had a scalding reddish tinge to its edge as it came down in a graceful arc, releasing a burst of killing intent that left a deep mark on a hardwood post twenty meters away. If it were a man, he would be gutted like a pig, causing the five viscera and six bowels to spill out.

On the other hand, the steel sword was colored by a warm pink glow, and the qi blast was more wounding than killing judging by the scratches it left. It was half a breath slower too, which might not seem much, but in a fight, to be second was to die in seconds.

All of this took some time to describe, but actually happened in the span of a single breath.

“The difference is staggering,” Daphne said. Though they were both swords, the difference in their cultivation was the immensity between heaven and earth. What was a carp to a dragon? What was a regular beauty to a jade beauty?

Mother nodded. “And that is just bronze. In a formal duel, steel against runesteel can only result in ruined steel.”

She committed her honored mother’s wisdom to her heart. The wise woman was one who knew what she did not know. And besides, it was not unlike the differences that emerged between the stages of cultivation. It was comforting to know that even in this world the truths remained true.

“Now, with weapons like yours, surprise will always be your greatest asset,” Mother said as her maid pinned her hair into a bun with the hairpins. The dagger Mother slipped into a hidden pocket inside a fold of her sleeve, and her feet slipped into the heels with a practiced ease. “Embody the flower, let others admire your beauty from afar, but if they think to pluck you, then bleed them with your thorns.”

“Sir Ronald, if you will,” Mother said.

The red-haired and freckled man bowed to her mother, as a dog bowed to its master. Daphne would never disgrace herself by letting her head down except to admire her shoes.

They went through some exercises in slow motion so that Daphne could comprehend their cultivation. Mother’s movements were simple, yet profound, leaving little in the way of openings. She did not meet force with force, though she could have, but instead sought to redirect the knight’s strength to the side before countering.

Against a mighty overhead blow, would step into his guard so that the full swing could not be finished, before sliding her hairpin into the exposed eye slits in his greathelm. Other times she flowed like water, dancing around him and driving the dagger into his back.

She could feel her awareness grow in leaps and bounds as she memorized their actions and played it back in her head. There was a rhythm to it, a flow, a dance to some song half-remembered.

All of this was to say it was a cultivation technique perfectly suited for Daphne’s weaker body! She did not need so much strength to mimic these motions, only speed and style.

“Senior knight, trade pointers with me next!” Daphne declared, settling into the exact stance her mother used.

Ronald nodded. “Ready?”

“An opponent would not ask me if I’m ready. They would simply attack,” Daphne said, eyes narrowing into a scathing glare. Was he looking down on her?

“Let us begin slowly then,” Ronald said. “Some of these techniques are rather advanced.”

So he was looking down on her! The gall of this dog! She nearly fainted from intense anger and her blood started flowing in reverse. Just because a tiger does not roar does not mean that others can take it for a cat.

As his swing came at a turtle’s pace, using maybe a tenth of his power, Daphne exploded into action, driving straight into his guard. The burst of motion caught him by surprise, and he stumbled back a few steps to avoid Daphne’s dagger from taking his eyes out as recompense.

“My daughter is feeling spirited today,” Mother said. “If she wishes to be like this, humor her, but ensure there are no accidents.”

“As you say, Lady Greenglade,” Ronald said, adjusting his feet into a solid stance.

Daphne’s smile widened as he attacked closer to thirty percent of his power! His speed was not insultingly slow now, and far more appropriate for the lesson she wanted. He even unleashed some of his killing intent on her, striking beyond striking range as even the wind bowed to his will and sharpened itself to a paper’s edge. They danced to a tune unheard, like the soft strumming of the guqin on a rainy day. There was no time for thought in moments like these, only action and reaction.

It had to be instinctual, habitual, unconscious. Doing less and less, until doing became not doing, until fighting was simply being.

When nothing was done, nothing was left undone.

Daphne was not even close to there yet, but it was a start. The journey of a thousand li begins with the first step. These heels stepped heavenward.

 

Chapter 08: Interlude - Simple…​

Not for the first time in the last few hours, Rhian considered just making a run for it. He still had a few coins jingling in his pouch left over after buying the pill, a borrowed horse, and, most importantly, there was not a knight in sight to stop him.

Except it wouldn’t work.

Rhian had sworn an oath to the Pantheon and the Divine Syngian to obey Lady Daphne’s every word. Though he might be a thief by trade, he lived by a code like any other man, and the first rule any sane man followed was not to spite the Great Gods if you could help it. More importantly, he likely wouldn’t get far even if he did try it. Even a strawborn peasant like himself knew of the Greenglade’s signature spell, and he’d bet silvers to straw that the brand they’d burned into his cheek was laced with the magic.

If they knew where he was, they could catch up to him within a day from their pegasi even if he rode throughout the night.

Rhian sighed, as he squeezed his knees and urged the horse through the iron wrought gates of Greenglade Castle. This was his life now, playing errand boy to the mad whims of a rich woman.

It’s not all bad, Rhian thought. His duty was to Lady Daphne and not, say, the mines, where a quick and painful death was surer than the swing of a sword. Not that death would stop them from making use of his body. It was said that in some regions of the Empire, the dead were raised by necromancers to work the deepest shafts of a mine.

As a penal laborer, at least that fate would never befall him. Neither could he be sold in service to another, or be killed without cause, which was all that marked him above the slaves outside the Empire.

He was allowed into the castle without fuss. Dawn was just about beginning to break, but he found the young misstocrat already dressed and at the stables, running her hand against a pegasus.

Daphne turned to the stableboy. “I know just what to call her—Jade.”

“Jade?” Rhian repeated. “Horse ain’t green.”

Daphne didn’t even look his way. “Welcome back, Broken Nose.”

“I ‘ave a name you know,” Rhian grumbled.

“You aren’t important enough to remember,” Daphne said. “Just as my maid is maid, and my knight is knight, you are Broken Nose.”

He glanced at her maid, who didn’t seem the least bit insulted. “My nose isn’t even broken anymore.”

“We could fix that,” Daphne offered.

His legs shuffled back of their own will. “No need for that,” he said hastily. “Your horse gets a name, but the rest of us don’t?”

“Of course,” Daphne said. “The horse is beautiful. What man would not want to mount it with wild abandon to reach the heavens?”

Rhian’s brows furrowed. What was with the stoneborn and all their fancy words? Couldn’t she have just said it flew instead of saying all that?

“But once a hero finds a new one,” Daphne continued, “she’ll be discarded without a second thought. Such is life for a jade beauty.”

“Sounds awfully sad,” Rhian said.

“It is what it is,” Daphne said, turning to him at last after she dismissed the stableboy. “Do you have it?”

Rhian bobbed his head, and pulled out the sandy pill in question. “Guy I got it from swears its from the Dunelands, which means it came from anywhere but the Dunelands,” he said. “Still, he’s never sold me a bad pill before.”

“Well done,” Daphne said, taking the pill in hand.

Rhian nodded. “Now, you’ll want to—don’t!” It was too late. Daphne had swallowed the pill whole in an instant, and gone completely silent. He gave Daphne’s maid—who still refused to tell him her name—a look. “We, uh, might have some problems.”

“Was that not silphion?” she asked.

“Did it look like silphion?” he asked with a sarcastic lilt to his tone. “Why would she ask the likes of me to get something a hystor would happily provide her for free.”

“Because the hystor would tell her parents,” the maid said.

“It wasn’t silphion,” Rhian said. “Do you know where we could get some rope?”

She glared at him. “What wicked thoughts are you thinking? I will not help you tie up my mistress!” After a pause, she added, “It would leave ugly red marks on her skin, and she’d whip the both of us for that.”

That Rhian could believe. “Then help me get her into the carriage,” he said. “Taking a dose that large … we have a minute at best before it starts hitting hard.”

“What does that look like?” the maid asked.

Daphne’s eyes were wide and wild, taking long stretches to stare at the simplest things around her. It was as if she’d been reduced to a newborn babe. “If we’re lucky, like that, but she starts rambling ‘bout nonsense,” said Rhian.

“And if we’re not lucky?”

“She could see us all as bugs with insect faces,” Rhian said. Happened to a friend of his once, and why he’d never taken the pill himself. “She’ll be screaming and struggling a lot in that case.”

“What exactly did you give her?” she asked as they managed to seat Daphne in her carriage without anyone being the wiser.

“Exactly what she asked me to get! Refined cactus juice,” Rhian said. “Do you think you could convince the knights to leave early? I’d rather not be here while this is happening to her.”

The maid glared at him. “You want to travel while she’s in this state?”

“She’ll be fine after a few hours,” Rhian said. “Just make sure she doesn’t jump out of the carriage.”

She paused. “Does that happen often?”

“Often enough that I wanted to use rope,” Rhian said.

“This seems like all the more reason not to leave. She should be resting in bed,” the maid said.

“Wu … wu … wu,” Daphne murmured. “So itchy, so hot …“

“If Lady Greenglade finds out, I’m a dead man and you’ll be expelled,” Rhian said.

The maid raised a brow at him. “How would any of this be my fault?”

“You were there when the young miss asked me to acquire the pill for her, but you said nothing to Lady Greenglade,” Rhian said. “Lady Daphne might not even be allowed to return to the academy, and then she’ll be mad at you too. Call my crazy, but I don’t like your odds of staying around if both your mistress and her mother are mad at you.”

“Simple!” Daphne exclaimed, staring now at her fingers as if they held the secrets to the universe. “Yet, profound!”

“Can she even hear us?” the maid asked.

Rhian shrugged. “I think so, but I don’t think she finds the like of us all that interesting to begin with.”

“Because of the drug?”

Because that’s how she is, Rhian thought. “Are we leaving or not? The choice is in your hands. There’s nothing more I can do here.”

She looked at him with some suspicion. “You incapacitate Lady Daphne and then insist we leave … the whole thing seems suspicious. How do I know your friends have not prepared some ambush while we’re travelling?”

Rhian blinked. “Are you seriously asking? We’d be insane to try something now.”

“Why is that?”

He sighed with great longsuffering. “We’re thieves. The whole point is to take what others ‘ave without getting killed. There must be a dozen knights, squires, and mages-at-arms escorting this carriage, and it’d take a small army of us strawborn to subdue them all.”

“The wise are not learned,” Daphne said. “The learned are not wise!”

It was becoming harder and harder to tell if this was just the young misstocrat’s usual talk, or if the pill was just bringing out more of it.

“When people see some things as beautiful, other things become ugly. When people see some things as good, other things become bad,” Daphne mumbled. “Being and non-being create each other. Difficult and easy support each other. Long and short define each other. High and low depend on each other. Before and after follow each other…”

“Fine!” the maid said at last. “But only because Lady Daphne would be incensed if she were unable to attend the academy this season.”

He breathed a little easier at that.

“You stay right there,” she said. “I’m not dealing with this by myself for the entire journey.”

Rhian tensed right back up as she left.

“Have you ever lusted for food?” Daphne asked. “Like a toad lusting after swan’s meat, only literally?”

He frowned. “You mean being hungry?”

“Hungry,” Daphne said with an agreeable nod, still with that faraway look in her eyes. “Simple, yet profound.”

Rhian ought to have known better, but he asked anyway. “What’s so profound about being hungry? It’s the simplest thing there is.”

Daphne sighed. “It is too sophisticated for you to understand right now, for you have eyes but cannot see Mount Tai. How best to put it for you?” She fell silent for a moment, eyes moving wildly. “We join spokes together in a wheel, but it is the center hole that makes the wagon move. We shape clay into a pot, but it is the emptiness inside that holds whatever we want. We hammer wood for a house, but it is the inner space that makes it livable. We work with being, but non-being is what we use.”

“What is this? Poetry?” Rhian asked. Was this what spoiled aristocrats learned all day at the schools?

She went back to ignoring him. That he was used to.

At long last, the maid returned, and began going about making the young misstocrat comfortable.

The carriage shuddered forward. It was going to be a long trip.