Chapter Thirteen #2
“Like when I need to burp?”
Master Teacher Wang’s laughter was so loud that Shanlin jumped. “Yes,” he said, “qi is often like the need to burp. It presses at us, flowing through us like air, especially when we are young.”
“Do not bother Master Teacher Wang with impertinent questions,” Leander chided him.
“The question is inelegant, not impertinent, Boon Lian,” Master Teacher Wang said.
“As you work your magic, young son of Boon Lian, the qi will grow more dense, like egg drop soup, and then like a long simmered stew, and if you cultivate your qi long enough, you can create a golden core here.” He pressed his hands against his own breastbone. “And then you can do mighty feats.”
“Like fly?”
“One only needs to be forming a core to learn that skill. There are many more powerful possibilities with magic.”
Immediately, Shanlin’s expression soured. “I don’t like powerful magic. It makes people want to hurt you.”
Leander winced, and Master Teacher Wang sighed. “That is true, young one, but if the qi moves within you powerfully enough for you to have magic, you cannot change that.”
“I don’t want qi, then,” Shanlin said.
Leander truly prayed the boy never developed magic. Both his parents were dead because magic had dragged them into a war they hadn’t wanted to fight, and if Shanlin ever wanted to go home to the US, someone would drag him into the same damn fight if he had a talent.
Master Teacher Wang patted Shanlin’s knee.
“As a boy, I saw those with political power. I both envied them and feared the power because I saw how people fought over it... killed over it. Magic does not change the nature of a human being; it only gives people a new excuse to fight. Money, love, power, land, magic–it is human nature to lose ourselves to them, which is why we meditate and learn to release the bonds that would drive us to desire that which is not ours. Did you see the streets in the City of Ringed Beauty around the school?”
Shanlin nodded.
“When Li Ming and Fu Xin built the school, the dragon who gave his power to make this sanctuary feared that people would try to fill all the space that he set aside to be shared among many species. Therefore, he limited where people could build. Every time someone builds so much as a chicken coop outside the ring, a natural disaster comes to destroy it, and several times storms or fire have damaged Ring City. The dragon taught us that only great fear can overcome the greed that is natural to us.”
“People are terrible,” Shanlin agreed.
“They can be, but people can also be wonderful,” Master Teacher Wang said.
“The great master Mencius once revealed the true nature of humans by telling the story of a child who fell in a well and cried for help. A person’s first inclination is to run toward the child because that is our first and truest nature. But the world tempts us from it.”
“I think lots of people would wait until the good people were all at the well with the child and then they would steal from their houses,” Shanlin whispered.
This time, Master Teacher Wang’s sigh of pity was unmistakable.
“Do we know where the poison came from?” Leander asked, more to distract Master Wang from Shanlin than with any expectation they could have uncovered the murder plot.
“We do not,” Master Teacher Wang said. “But Nie Zhiyuan speaks of outsiders in Yaan.”
“Is Nie Zhiyuan related to Nie Heng?” Leander asked.
Nie Heng had taken Leander as his qidi—his adopted little brother—but he did not know if the family obligations extended to his birth family.
He’d never asked since he’d never expected to meet any of them.
Now his stomach knotted with fear at the idea of having to navigate complex Chinese family relationships .
Leander was an inept, boneheaded dunce when it came to people. And relationships.
“Nie Zhiyuan is the eldest brother of the Nie family,” Master Teacher Wang said. “We often call him Zhiyuan the younger because there is another Zhiyuan in the town and the boys are both craftsmen of metals, so there is confusion with their names. He approaches now.”
Master Teacher Wang gestured to the far end of the hall, and a man strode in.
His robes were black and burgundy and gathered at the wrists in leather bracers that Leander had not seen on others.
He shared a chin and strong cheekbones with Heng, but his eyes were light amber and so very cold.
They swept past Leander without pause, as if he were not worthy of a single moment of consideration.
Zhiyuan bowed to Master Teacher Wang. “I come with news from my younger brother. There are four strangers in Yaan, three with the strange, unbalanced Western magic.” His Chinese was sharper than the lilting tones Leander knew—more machine gun than song.
“Thank you for your news. What else does your brother report?”
Zhiyuan’s gaze flickered toward Leander before he focused on Master Wang again. “My brother hopes you will consider the safety of the strangers.”
“Does he?”
Zhiyuan’s expression didn’t change, but Leander could still feel the disapproval. “My brother is gifted with an excess of empathy and a dearth of wisdom,” he said.
Leander sucked in a startled breath. Such insults were not acceptable. He was grateful that Shanlin didn’t know enough Chinese to see this utter lack of decorum.
Master Teacher Wang chuckled. “You shape metal with more skill than you shape relationships, Craftsman Zhiyuan.”
“I accept that as a great compliment, Master Teacher,” Zhiyuan said with a bow. “My younger brother hopes you will keep his qidi and the qidi of his qidi safe while he attempts to ascertain the nature of the strangers.”
Cold swept through Leander’s bones. “Master Teacher Wang, Craftsman Zhiyuan, I must warn against interacting with these strangers. Shanlin speaks of his mother’s caution of these individuals. She described them as dangerous, and she was not one to see threats where there were none.”
“There were no threats before you came here, stranger,” Zhiyuan said.
“So intemperate. For someone who must control heat so precisely to form metal, you are indiscriminate with the heat formed by words,” Master Teacher Wang chided.
Zhiyuan’s face grew even colder, and his gaze finally settled on Leander. His look didn’t just aim to kill, it threatened maiming, torturing, death, resuscitation, and another death. His light amber eyes were devoid of any sympathy.
Leander forced himself into a polite bow when every instinct told him to grab Shanlin and flee. “I apologize my actions attracted the attention of villains,” Leander said. “I hope I have done nothing to personally offend such an esteemed craftsman as Craftsman Zhiyuan.”
“You’ve never seen my crafts, outsider.”
“I trust that Master Teacher Wang would never name you craftsman unless you deserved the respect,” Leander countered.
“Well said,” Master Teacher Wang said. “Tell your brother to avoid being noticed by the outsiders. Come, Craftsman Lian, let us go see your qidi.”
Leander blinked at the new title. For the first time, an expression crossed Zhiyuan’s face.
Disgust. Leander caught Shanlin’s hand and hurried to follow Master Teacher Wang.
He did not want to be left in the same room with Heng’s brother.
Either Craftsman Zhiyuan was a particularly virulent racist or he didn’t approve of Heng’s decision to name Leander as his qidi.
At least Leander could reasonably assume after this that he had no obligation of filial duty to the Nei family, qidi or not.
Because he and Zhiyuan were definitely not family.
Either that or they were the type of family that wanted each other dead.