Lingli turned red as Hao closed his eyes. Nothing outside changed, but the world and words of Lingli became distant, fraying at the edge of Hao’s mind. He let the story in the peach wood pass swallow him. The Spirit-Holding bag pressed on his heart as memories wormed their way into his soul. Seven Colored Steps and his tested mind keeping him whole.

  His vision flooded with violet petals. Where the world once was stood an elegant woman with lavender skin.

  Hao clung to the rest of the morning's memories, replaying them before the pass took him.

  *

  The camp doubled in size that morning. A new group of three to ten cultivators of one of the three factions joined. One group every hour since the sun rose. Soon, the groups outside were laughing, having a drink, and eating rations together. After a few jars of wine disappeared, cloaks and robes of all three colors were rubbing, and the idea of naming the camp became appealing. The disgruntled ones saw a chance to take out their grievances, denying every name put forth just to agitate the group.

  Dong Lingli was speaking while inhaling a handful of fruit. “There are always one or two that need to cause trouble to feel like they’re alive.” The way the man ate was astonishing, for every berry that would take anyone else five to six bites. Lingli chomped in one.

  Hao stood at the tent’s edge, just inside, holding the flap open as he looked out. The two of them listened to their festivities as they had started their breakfast. It made the two of them feel more isolated. Hao more than Dong Lingli.

  Has no one noticed the corpse on the tree or missed the man who made a constant commotion? Or do they not care…

  He understood the people that came and went better than they understood themselves. It was reasonable, really; they were all out for self-preservation. Everyone was; it was common sense, and if they could thrive for it, all the better. The area out here, almost a valley except for the three cloud-covered mountains, seemed a paradise. The weather was milder for a longer time. And the larger the group, the greater the sense of safety.

  “Brother Hao, if you want to learn more about the trial that is in the central mountain, it’s best to talk to people outside. It would be a good chance to make some allies.” Lingli reached out his hands over the fire. There was a wonderful smell coming from it. A pan resting on coals sizzled while thin slices of feline demonic beast meat shrunk and curled. Lingli accidentally touched the pan’s edge, pulling his hand back.

  Allies Hao lingered on the word. He had heard it a lot since getting off that flying boat. Of course, no one here would actually defend the person next to them. Would I? Hao asked himself. He was still young, there was so much of the world he had yet to experience, especially pertaining to other people. Such things he often avoided if he had the option.

  Hao watched the footsteps and breaths of the people outside. So many of them were unsteady, no better than mortals. But Hao found himself maintaining perfection at every moment to keep himself stable. They drank and laughed while he studied. Not that he didn’t have moments of joy, but he had to find the joy; the moments hardly found him. His were rare, often forcing himself to be busy. It seemed unfair to the young man. Is it just a part of life or—

  “—A difference in talent?” He mumbled, letting the flap of the tent fall. Already seeing what he was expecting to find, at least one of the groups after the polarity flower was in the camp.

  “What was that, Brother Hao?” Lingli said, turning his head to look at him.

  Hao walked around the fire, around Lingli, sitting on the opposite side of the coals. He didn’t notice the heat as he reached out and shook the pan. He lifted it by its hot handle, placing it down on fresh heat. Dong Lingli gave him a strange look. Like he had something to say but didn’t dare say it.

  Hao wasn’t going to guess at his words. “Can we talk more about spatial tools first…”. Hao needed to get that in before Lingli went on about something else. If given the chance, Lingli would say a hundred words between every bite. He jumped from topic to topic unless Hao directed the conversation. Hao wouldn’t give up the chance to pick the brain of someone as knowledgeable as Lingli when it came to treasures and artifacts.

  The pan was lifted off the fire, and the two used knives to take a piece. Lingli’s slice was gone before Hao got any grease on his tongue.

  “Brother Hao, you really don’t know about spatial artifacts?”

  Hao nodded his head, chewing on the demonic beast, remembering its claws with each bite.

  “Most allow you to store objects. Seniors and Elders use rings. They are rare and expensive, but the least cumbersome. The space inside isn’t limited based on the amount of material used to make the ring, like holding bags. The space inside can be large or small, depending on a bunch of factors. Like the skill of the craftsman for example.”

  Lingli burst with words before taking up another piece of ashy meat.

  Hao set his knife to the side. He swallowed what meat was in his mouth, scratching his chin, “What about storing living things, plants or people?”

  Lingli didn’t even touch his food. He didn’t need time to think. “No. Nope,” he said, tilting his head.

  “Things like that are different from normal spatial artifacts. They exist but are used for special and specific things like techniques or creatures; making an artifact like that is a lost art. The only thing similar to what I think you’re asking about are beast pouches for carrying spirit beasts.” Lingli scoffed, shaking his head.

  “Even then, only strong spirit beasts can survive in that environment. Oh, and they have to be willing to enter, of course. If forcibly pulled in, it can damage the soul, causing permanent damage to the mind.”

  Hao pushed the rest of the pan over to Dong Lingli, literally greasing up his lips. “The environment? Inside… these bags?”

  “Mhm, think about it like this: you’re forcing a giant space inside a pouch you can tie to your waist. So, the inside is extremely dense, often without air. If the beast inside the bag doesn’t have a strong body, it will either get crushed or suffocate. From what I know, getting crushed is the pleasant option…”

  Lingli’s eyes waved around while he picked up the last piece of meat from the pan. That slice disappeared, but he wasn’t done. He picked up the jar of jam he mentioned disliking just last night. He began poking out the leftovers while his head sunk down into thought. The jar reached a pristine shine before he primed his tongue again.

  “For plants… I can’t imagine any plant, even sturdy plants, surviving those conditions. Delicate things like herbs. It would be nice, but impossible. People too. There are stories of people being put in beast pouches but coming out… Addled, to say the least. Even the willing people. It was once a type of torture and punishment used by… never mind.” Lingli gulped before the knife he used as a stirring stick reached his mouth.

  That was just the start of the questions Hao asked during their meal. Lingli seemingly had an answer for just about everything. A few times, Lingli went on at length, skewing the conversation in interesting ways. Hao gathered what he could while veering everything towards things he wasn’t sure on.

  Hao didn’t interrupt his friend, just waited for him to pause and gather his thoughts. During the tangents, Hao had his mind rummaging inside the Spirit-Holding bag bound to his chest. The space inside was massive, countless plants were growing inside. Even mortal berry bushes and everyday grass thrived. Stranger yet, from what he was told, spatial objects didn’t contain air. The level of World Energy they could contain depended entirely on the world around them. Special containers, cases, vases, and boxes, carved of precious woods and elegant jades, were made for storing herbs to keep them fresh and potent.

  Yet his spatial bag was no normal holding bag or space ring; that much was clear now, if it wasn’t before.

  World Energy flowed freely in the Spirit-Holding bag but never leaked out with his direct action, allowing so. More gathering from the plants and dirt and things that live in or with them. Plucked herbs, floating berries, and even meat did not rot inside the bag. Rot that was taking place froze when placed inside. Decay and degradation didn’t happen inside the bag; at the very least, it was slowed. As soon as anything was removed from the bag, that decay would continue.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Lingli got up as the conversation was getting dry; he was running out of things to think about. He went over to the side of the tent, reaching for his large bag.

  Hao watched as he dug, going deeper into its expanse every second. He didn’t find what he was looking for; going for his holding bag next. Both his hands touched it, showing he lacked whatever skill made using spatial treasure an elegant task. Lingli grew frustrated, showing his teeth, going back to the larger bag, which was just a leather travel pack.

  “If Brother Lingli likes the idea, I can get him a few holding bags. I owe you a few times over.” Hao said, his words were a mumble. He was going through his bag as well. In seconds, his mind searched, checking every single crack inside the Spirit-Holding bag.

  Lingli stood straight, sticking out his stomach as he stretched his back. He let out a light laugh. “Surely Brother Hao is joking. You hardly owe me. Besides, holding bags are a fortune to a sect. Where would you get a few?”

  Hao squinted his eyes, he wasn’t going to say. He imagined before this excursion to the Mid-Summer cave was over, the ground would be littered with ownerless bags. He quickly changed the topic. The map Hao drew the night previous floating out onto his hand. Hao shook the paper to get Lingli’s attention.

  Dong Lingli quickly came over, remembering the paper well. He found it rather curious before when he was tired. Even more curious now, well rested. Lingli pointed at the center, the mountain in the middle, and drew his finger out in twisting spirals.

  “You mentioned a formation when you saw this. I don’t know anything about formations. Can you tell me as plainly as possible what you meant?”

  “Can I study it for a second?” Lingli held out the hand that did the tracing. Hao relented, letting the drawing of the secret realm go.

  “Here—” Lingli started and didn’t stop for a while, pointing at the green parts of the map, “this is where it starts, a normal zone, the mortal elements, all five gather and pass, as they always have.”

  Then he moved to the forests, the one to the north blue, and south on the other side of the gray plains, orange. One was the forest Hao left just yesterday morning before meeting this new friend.

  Hao interjected, “Yes, five elements feed the two zones. Bolstering Yin and Yang.”

  Lingli pointed at the two mountains, not that he knew they were mountains, labeled mother and father, two names Hao stole from sword-face’s map. “But here, this ‘mother’ point is near the Yang zone to collect Yang energy to bolster and feed its Yin. The other point down here, ‘father’, is doing the same near the Yin zone, creating more Yang.”

  Dong Lingli began to trace over the drawing with his own chunk of charcoal. A circle, hollow around the center mountain, then he spiraled outward, doing Yin first as he should. It swooped around the hollow point, following over the mountain mother. He did the same with Yang, going around, going towards the Mountain labeled Father.

  “Taiji?” Hao recognized the shape, but it was off; the energy fell like a waterfall upon the center point.

  “Mhm, but the energy isn’t going to the void or feeding the world; it’s gathering in the central zone, this hallowed spot.” Lingli finished the paper by drawing a circle around the land Hao had drawn. The circle around it made the zone a complete isolated diagram, Yin and Yang gathering and following toward the center.

  “Brother Hao, this is a drawing of the Mid-Summer cave, isn’t it?” Lingli whispered, dropping the charcoal drawing on the ground.

  Hao caught the paper and looked over it again. It disappeared into the Spirit-Holding bag while Lingli rubbed his eyes. Charcoal getting smeared on his face.

  Lingli’s thoughts were probably similar to Hao’s, just that Hao had them a little faster. Hao had a broader view of the situation, even if his understanding was shallower than the older man’s.

  “The energy is going to the central mountain. A hundred steps away from us,” Hao said, helping his friend along, directing the conversation again.

  Lingli turned fast, his eyes staying closed as his lips moved. “Yes, but why? The only thing in that mountain is the trial… I don’t know, and I don’t like it. Brother Hao should avoid that place.”

  Hao was surprised by the response. But it only made him more curious. The library had countless books and papers on the inside of the Secret Realm, but little to nothing on any sort of trial. Mystery was mentioned, but Hao thought that was a statement of allure. An attempt to get more disciples to go inside the Secret Realm.

  Herbs, beasts, amethysts, all those things, dozens of objects were recorded along with a record of where these things could be found. But there was no mention of the central mountain, a trial, or the passes needed to enter. Nothing.

  Hao went into the Spirit-Holding bag with his mind, pulling the items from the holding bag of the man he had killed last night. As things fell free, he focused on a thin piece of peach wood with the image of a tree and a single fruit. Hao’s mind brushed the pass, pulling back out of the five times quicker.

  The moment he touched the pass, he saw violet petals and felt like a flood of information, stuff he knew but had long forgotten, wormed its way into his mind. Memories he never had of people talking about the trial to him. Quickly, more came around like he just remembered. Hao nearly fell to it, but he made his World Energy flow the way it did when he was performing Seven Colored Steps. The memories seemed distant now and were slowly fading. The strange power placed upon the words that spoke to him in that moment fell apart, loosening their grip on him.

  Hao looked up. He remembered remembering, but it felt like a part of his mind was locked away. He shifted uncomfortably, moving his World Energy faster. He couldn’t get the smell of peaches out of his nose.

  “Brother Hao, are you okay?” Lingli asked.

  “Can you say more of it… this trial?” Hao looked up at Lingli, both of their eyes scrunching and itching their chins.

  Lingli sighed, “I suggest brother doesn’t get interested, especially now.” He lifted up the charcoal he used to draw.

  “I don’t know much, and I already threw my pass into the pile outside. But if you really want to know, go talk to one of the people who cling to their trial passes. They won’t stop blabbering about the story, but it can’t be that good of a story. I forget it every time I hear it.” Lingli laughed, but the joy on his face slowly turned to concern as he looked at the charcoal in his hand.

  “I didn’t come to this place to join a trial. I came to relieve some of my master’s worries…” Lingli said, putting on a justified face, but that melted away as he sat down and reached around the fire for anything leftover from breakfast.

  Your Master? Hao was wondering something else all this time. The man Dong Lingli was wearing Two Rivers Fort robes but didn’t look like a disciple of that place. He was bound in muscle, but that was just physical appearance. Lingli mentioned the saber division with derision once before.

  “Why don’t you carry a saber like the rest of the people from your Sect?” Hao asked.

  Lingli nearly choked on the food he managed to find. “Brother Hao… Two Rivers Fort has two divisions. Didn’t I say this already…” He became surprisingly defensive.

  “The saber division, fighter types, you’ve met them. And geniuses like me go to the cannon division. Although we are called the cannon division, we haven’t repaired a cannon on the Fort since I was six or seven. Now we just mortar the fortress walls as they crumble… It’s an important job. The Fortress on the two rivers is where we get our name and where the two Sect founders met.”

  Lingli turned his head in his hand. “One slayed the bandits occupying the Fort with his saber. The other repair the gates and cannons when more bandits came for revenge. At least that’s the story I was fed… The leader of the cannon division grew old, waiting for something to fix. While the leader of the Saber division went out and gained fame, spreading the Sect’s influence…”

  Lingli’s head sunk down.

  There was silence in the tent for a few seconds. Then Lingli looked up. “Brother Hao, do you really plan to go inside the mountain, to take the trial…”

  Hao nodded his head. He noticed Lingli’s desire to change the subject. Just mentioning his Sect made his face turn sour. It likely had a lot to do with the reason he sat alone in his tent on the outskirts of the camp. You and I are more similar than I thought, Dong Lingli…

  As Hao leaned back, relaxing his head on the ground, he looked up at the tent’s ceiling. But in truth, his mind was circling the peach wood pass inside the Spirit-Holding bag. “I won’t join the trial. I don’t know anything about it, but the map made me even more concerned. But I am curious. Just curious.”

  “The only thing I can do is warn Brother Hao against it again. You will probably get overwhelmed and get a headache like I did. If I didn’t have to recover, I wouldn’t have met you. I would have gone to gather amethysts in one of the other two mountains. I would like to get my share and get out before the fighting starts.”

  Hao turned over on his side, looking at Lingli, who was straining his face. “Do you know anything other than its name or about the trial pass?”

  “The only thing I can tell you is how I found the pass when I first entered this central zone. It was…” Lingli scratched his forehead. “I’m sorry, Brother Hao, I seemed to have lost my train of thought. What were we talking about?”

  Hao watched Lingli hold his head for a few seconds as he tried to recall, counting on his fingers to organize his thoughts.

  Hao was beginning to understand that there was some type of magic placed on the trial. How much of the magic he could escape or control? How much he would lose control to, he was not sure. His mind inched close to the pass. The energy flow of Seven Colored Steps burst through Hao so he could keep some semblance of reality. As he planned to touch the pass again. It felt like a dumb thing to do, like he was about to reach into a pot of boiling oil. As the story from the pass filled his mind, a memory started to play.

  Hao laid back on the ground, speaking to put his new friend at ease. “Haha, it was nothing important, Brother Lingli. We were just talking about the woman in the Saber Division. You said they were fit—muscle-bound—tan, and beautiful.”

  Lingli turned red as Hao closed his eyes. Nothing outside changed, but the world and words of Lingli became distant, fraying at the edge of Hao’s mind. He let the story in the peach wood pass swallow him. The Spirit-Holding bag pressed on his heart as memories wormed their way into his soul. Seven Colored Steps and his tested mind keeping him whole.