“Now, Little Dejiu, did you complete the scripture reading I assigned to you before I left?” Jiansu asked with a slightly crooked smile and tranquil eyes.

  Dejiu cleared his throat. “Ahem! Amitabha,” he clasped his hands. “I was a little too busy to complete the task. Vanquishing daimons, conquering the pillars of Hell.”

  “Heh.” Jiansu chuckled. “I was joking. Get up, we’ll go and train together.”

  It took a moment before Dejiu registered what Jiansu said. Training? That’s weird. Although they were teacher and student, he wasn’t really taught anything strength-wise. “What do you mean? Train?”

  Dejiu looked at Jiansu who grabbed the massive monk’s spade — the real one belonging to Jiansu, not the older one that his teacher used in his youth. Actually, wait, where did that one go? Did he leave it in the Seventh Hell?

  Spade in hand, Jiansu turned around. “I heard it too, you know. You’re allowed to learn our temple’s cultivation method and martial arts. I’ll teach you.”

  Dejiu raised his brow. “I’ve been waiting for this!” He excitedly yelped.

  “Ah, but with what weapon? I-uh, lost your spade. I don’t know what happened to it after I got encased in ice—”

  “I threw it away.”

  “Oh. I’ll just stick with fists—fist, sorry.” Dejiu corrected himself as Jiansu headed out their room.

  Dejiu followed his teacher. They walked out of the massive White Blossom Monastery that held almost everyone below the rank of Senior Monk. They made their way past the refectory, prayer halls, and other infrastructure of the outer sanctum. Dejiu looked up and inhaled a crispy breath of mountain air. It felt good. A little late-night session with his teacher. He couldn’t ask for anything more — and he’ll be taught martial arts techniques!? Ha! Seven years, he’s been waiting for this!

  “I fear some of those martial techniques cannot mesh well with our Dark Flower cultivation method and your distinct prana.” Bing Xin echoed.

  His face drooped into a frown and he groaned, “Of course, of course!”

  “What was that, Little Dejiu?” Jiansu turned around and asked.

  “Oop, nothing. Ignore it. I just thought this was what I was waiting for all these years, you know.” Dejiu quickly recovered.

  “Indeed, it's been a long time coming, for both you and me.”

  Dejiu raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

  Jiansu scoffed and turned ahead again. He looked up to the moonlit sky, revealed in its entirety without the mask of fog. “One does not take in a student without the intention of teaching. When the Abbot forbade you from learning anything to increase your strength, I too felt like I’ve been wronged. Perhaps you were too young to remember, but do you recall what color were the prayer beads I wore that day?”

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  Dejiu frowned and rummaged through his memories. He tried to remember but he just couldn’t. It was like everything was turned murky, clouded by his Class after being initiated into the Seekers Accord. “I can’t, but what are you getting at?”

  “I was demoted a few days after your initiation,” Jiansu said wistfully.

  A cold wind bit at Dejiu’s cheeks. Jiansu didn’t really talk much about himself — probably because most of it contained information forbidden to Dejiu before. Anything about Jiansu’s exploits beneath the surface, fighting, cultivation, anything really. So hearing this revelation took Dejiu by surprise.

  He didn’t say anything, he just took it all in. What Jiansu said kind of made him remember again how obtusely stubborn the temple was with him. It even affected his teacher who brought him in. Yes, Dejiu knew Jiansu was somewhat alienated inside the temple, like himself, though to a milder extent. Much of Jiansu's isolation was by personal choice — a response to the treatment Dejiu had received. Perhaps to make Dejiu feel better and not as alone. It’s something Dejiu appreciated a lot about Jiansu.

  But it also cemented his mind — what he did and will do from now. His rise to strength, he owed it to Jiansu and himself. And maybe, as audacious as it sounded, just maybe he could change how the temple operates. To be more forgiving to people like him. He wasn’t asking for much, it just couldn’t be too much to ask.

  Eventually they reached a small clearing near the temple’s periphery. Well, not really. Technically the Heavenly Snowy Temple’s reach encompassed the entire small mountain range, but obviously they weren’t going to go that far. They only trekked to where the outer sanctum ends and there weren’t any sentries in sight.

  Teacher Jiansu set down his monk’s spade. Dejiu wondered what stage that weapon was. Probably Earthly like his teacher, right? Wait, no, was it a soulbound remnant? It couldn’t be. Soulbound meant it was bound to the soul — so his teacher couldn’t have summoned and maintained it all the time. It never dispersed nor formed out of nowhere in Dejiu’s memory of his teacher. Huh, or could it? So how could you tell if something like that is a remnant?

  Argh, too much thinking. I’ll worry about it later. Techniques! Training! That’s what I need to focus on. He scratched his head.

  “Already not in the mood to train, Little Dejiu?” Jiansu raised an eyebrow.

  Dejiu dropped his hand and shook his head. “Nope. Just felt a little itchy in uh, my hand. Oh, speaking about my missing hand, Arhat Disciple Xue Bing Lie told me to ask you what I could do about it.”

  “Hm.” Jiansu eyed his fluttering robe where his right hand should be. “I don’t know. Healers are scarce in this temple, most of us rely on remnants gained from the Seekers Accord to heal.”

  Dejiu frowned. Seems like that bastard of an Arhat Disciple just didn’t want to deal with him. Hmph, one day Dejiu will get back at him. Maybe chop his hand off for a change—whoops, the Bing Xin part of him slipped out.

  “Never mind then. Let’s start!” He shifted topics.

  “I see. Well to begin, I must tell you that I don’t know where to start.” Jiansu said as he trodded a few paces away from Dejiu.

  Dejiu and his teacher’s matching loose robes fluttered in the mountain peak’s air. He narrowed his eyes and lowered his base. Instinctively, Dejiu knew where this was headed. A spar? HUH!

  “I also want to know firsthand what my dear student has developed on his own to survive something anyone else your age couldn’t. I didn’t mention it back then, but your accomplishment is unheard of, Impure Pillarshard or not.” Jiansu said and brought his fists out into a tight stance.

  Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. Dejiu shivered as he felt the chilly mountain air somehow turn colder. It wasn’t like the menacing cold of whatever he felt from the fractures that revealed the Sixth Hell’s expanse.

  It felt like a cold that permeates all.