Dàilán woke, blinking in the dimness, to a quiet knock on the door of her bedroom. Recognising the knock, she grimaced and rubbed her eyes.
"Chén'er? What is it?"
"It is past your usual rising time, Young Mistress," her friend and bodyguard answered softly from the door as she opened the double leaves slightly to slip through and bustle over to the closed curtains. She opened them slightly, letting the light of the Golden Crow spill into the room, warming the polished floorboards and sending a thin beam across the bed.
"Ugh… I went to bed late last night," she yawned, covering it politely with a hand. "Between the apology to House Ji, and then the discussions with Father at dinner… I am still tired…"
"That is why I let you sleep an extra shí. You will have to skip your usual morning tàijíquán practice," Chénli said, throwing open the curtains the rest of the way and moving over to the wardrobe.
Dàilán threw an arm over her eyes to block out the bright light, groaning.
"Really? Can we just skip sparring today? I will do only my tàijíquán instead."
Her friend smirked.
"I was actually planning on that, but unfortunately the enemy does not always attack when it is convenient."
Dàilán growled.
"Chénli, if this is one of your master teaching student moments, it is ill-timed."
"As much as I would like to take credit for being an iron lady, this is not my idea," admitted the other girl, pausing as she pressed her hand onto an innocuous section of carving on the wardrobe.
Chénli casually took out the Heiress' practice uniform and laid it on the bed, but Dàilán felt the prickle of Essence as the privacy formations in the bedroom strengthened.
"Dagger and Moon got in touch with me after they could not get hold of you—specifically asking for sparring practice. You three Heiresses against us four maids. Ài, Chàng and Biyu are already preparing."
Dàilán's mouth dropped open.
"Moon and… but she must be as tired as I am!"
Chénli shook her head and pointed toward the bathroom.
"Get up and wash your face, Mistress. We have only a little time. As for Moon," Chénli pursed her lips, "according to Dagger, she can barely keep still. Dagger sounds as grumpy as you—not fond of early mornings. Moon, on the other hand, sounds… distressingly cheerful."
Dàilán sighed and rolled out of bed, groaning as a familiar stab of pain ran through her abdomen when her feet touched the carpet.
"She would, considering what happened yesterday. Chén'er, I need the monthly potion."
"I have it here," Chén'er said, passing her a small red vial from inside her sleeve as the Heiress stumbled into the bathroom. "You always grow sleepier when your blessing comes, so that does not help on top of last night. Do not forget to add your blessing blood to the potion."
Dàilán made a face as she took the vial.
"Yes, Mother. Heavens, I sometimes wish I had been born a man—can the alchemists not make a better remedy than drinking my own blood… what blessing."
Her grumbling faded as she vanished into the bathroom. Chénli ignored the familiar complaints and began making the bed, nodding as she heard water splashing.
A fēn later the young Heiress returned, looking much more alert, though still wearing a disgusted expression as she handed the empty vial back.
"I have said it before and I will say it again—if I ever discover the man who decided the best way to treat blessing pains is that dreadful potion…"
She paused, noticing the bed.
"Why have you made the bed?"
Chénli rolled her eyes.
"Would you prefer you could not afford the blessing potion? And I made the bed because Dagger wants to examine the privacy formations in your quarters after the sparring. She is worried about secrets leaking, I suppose. I told her it was unnecessary, but she said Third House does not have a Master maintaining them—so Moon suggested we have lunch here afterwards. She seemed rather excited about the idea."
Dàilán made another face as she picked up the training outfit.
"Remind me again why I once thought having sisters would be pleasant? They are being awfully open about our contact all of a sudden."
Chénli stepped back, watching carefully for mistakes as her mistress dressed.
"Everyone is preoccupied with yesterday's events. Attention is focused elsewhere. Do not worry—Third House servants are controlling the routes First and Second House are taking to reach the garden. Ài is escorting them. The other maids are informing the kitchens about your little luncheon afterwards. Apparently they are quite certain the Head Matron will wish to demonstrate that Third House still possesses considerable face."
Dàilán rubbed her forehead.
"Life was simpler when those two were empty vases… I hope Matron can preserve her dignity. She has never approved of First and Second either."
"Not nearly as entertaining though. You must admit, things have grown far more interesting lately," Chénli laughed as she tied the final cords of her training robes and slipped into soft training shoes with Essence-grip soles.
"As for the Matron, I suspect that is precisely the point."
"Ugh… I hate politics," Dàilán chanted as she pulled on her own slippers.
"Heavens, I am stiff."
She stretched through a few slow tàijíquán movements, grimacing at the tension in her muscles.
"I am making Moon pay for this nonsense."
"Remember you are on their team this morning, Mistress," Chénli reminded her cheerfully.
Dàilán smirked.
"There are always traitors."
They exited her quarters and began walking toward the meditation gardens.
Chénli blinked thoughtfully.
"That is actually not a terrible idea—though they may half expect it."
They walked in silence for a moment before Chénli spoke again, her voice sharper.
"Speaking of interesting—what in the Nine Hells happened yesterday? I leave for one day and return to find all of Hujian discussing Clan Guan's 'Grand Gesture'."
Dàilán sighed.
"Long story. We will likely discuss it at lunch. It is politics."
Chénli glanced around discreetly before grinning.
"Then I shall simply beat it out of you during the spar."
"Hells no. I am not wearing that blasted limiter. I will be hampered enough with two teammates I barely know."
"Fair enough. But we are using the lightning sparring weapons."
Dàilán's grin turned predatory.
"That… is excellent. Watching Dagger and Moon get shocked will be worth the price of being struck myself. Though you may find it difficult to land a hit without that limiter."
"We will warn them, of course," Chénli said piously. "They may refuse if they wish to preserve their dignity. As for your teammates—training together is the best way to learn."
They turned into the walkway leading toward the Meditation Garden.
"If you had returned at your usual time yesterday you would have been included in the excitement. What happened?"
Chénli paled slightly.
"That… is another subject for lunch. Oddly enough it concerns all three of you Heiresses."
Dàilán glanced at her sharply.
"You were not punished for delivering my message, I trust?"
"To my surprise, no. Master agreed with you. He intends to show sincerity in the coming days. I was actually commended for my loyalty."
Dàilán nodded regally.
"As it should be."
Voices ahead announced their arrival.
The sand garden lay quiet beneath the warm light of the Golden Crow.
Pale sand raked into careful spirals shifted beneath their slippers with a soft hiss, the grains still warm from the morning light. The faint rasp of cloth and leather carried in the still air as they stepped forward, mingling with the green scent of trimmed bamboo drifting from the hedges.
Somewhere beyond the compound walls a wind chime rang once—thin, bright, and clear.
"It seems the others are already here," Dàilán observed.
"This should be entertaining," Chénli added, a hint of malicious anticipation in her voice.
---
Dàilán huddled in one corner of the sand garden with her two female cousins. Míng and Ying looked a little pale despite the warm light of the Golden Crow, glancing nervously at the group of maids on the opposite side of the garden in their own corner. Míng kept fiddling with her Formation scriber—or brush, Dàilán's mind kept insisting—and Ying kept winding a length of ribbon around one of her hands.
"We have about half a kè to decide on a strategy," Dàilán murmured to the other two girls, pretending she did not notice their nervous behaviour. "I assume you are both familiar with each other's abilities and have a preferred strategy you are used to using together?"
Míng nodded, her face set, speaking quickly and quietly. "I draw formations that act as defence and attack from a fixed point. Multiple points, if I get enough time."
Ying smiled, although it looked a little forced. "I can dance around enemies and attack them with cloth and veils—trip, bind, strangle, lacerate… If I had plants I could do more, but Míng asked me not to damage the Formations on your garden."
Míng glared at her cousin. "I just spent another hour upgrading them. I will thank you not to ruin my efforts." The eldest cousin turned to Dàilán, her expression smug—nervousness forgotten as she focused on her passion. "Your garden is now as secure as I can make it—which, given my recent reading in that book you gave to me, is a good deal more secure than most might expect. There are some very unusual and powerful Formation concepts in that book. Did you know—"
Ying interrupted, again looking nervously over at the other group. "Not the time, Dagger. Knife looks ready to kill something."
Dàilán nodded, pretending she did not notice her eldest cousin's widening eyes. "About that." She pulled out her wooden sparring daggers and handed them to Míng. "Tell me what you make of the Formations on these."
Míng frowned, her eyes tracing the patterns. "Force… and Lightning?" Her eyebrows shot up.
Dàilán took the daggers back. "Yuh. Chénli got them from her sect. She says it is considered standard training equipment. If someone channels Essence through one of these and touches you, you flop like a beached fish and smell of smoke for most of a kè. It hurts. You develop an intense desire never to be touched again. That is rather the point, actually. They"—she jerked her head in the other group's direction—"all have weapons like that."
Both cousins paled bone-white and Ying looked wobbly, which Dàilán thought somewhat ridiculous considering this whole affair had been her idea.
"This is a spar!" hissed Ying in outrage.
The youngest Heiress blinked. "And your point? No permanent damage, and you instinctively learn never to allow a weapon to reach you. If you always spar with blunted weapons and padded armour, you begin to accept strikes simply to land one of your own—and you do not even realise you are doing it. I learnt that the hard way once Chén'er brought these out. It took me about three days of being shocked to break the habit. What do you think would have happened if they had been real weapons?"
Dàilán sighed. "Anyway, my preferred style—I move. Hard, fast, quick. My Cultivation is above par for my age, so I hit harder than a woman of my age or size usually does, but I am still small and agile, so I can dart in and out, striking before they have a chance to answer. If I am hit hard enough by someone stronger, even with my Cultivation I usually get floored. I can take a bigger hit than you would expect—again, Cultivation—but it is still a grave mistake on my part to try to go toe to toe. Again, something I learnt after Chén'er had me train wearing a limiter."
Míng snorted, colour returning to her face. "A limiter? Who in the Nine Hells trains with something stopping them from using techniques?"
"I needed to practise against opponents who were out of my weight class. We did not have any—so we did the next best thing and simulated fighting someone stronger by limiting my techniques. I am not wearing the limiter today, though—you two are judged enough of a handicap for me already." Dàilán grinned wickedly in the direction of the other group. "Time to settle accounts."
She frowned. "For now, you two stick to what you do best. Míng—pick a spot and bunker down. Ying, you defend that position. I will try to go after targets while Chén'er focuses on you two."
Ying gasped, her face flushing in panic. "But she is the strongest and you are used to fighting her…"
Míng interrupted her cousin, her jaw set. "But she is not used to fighting us, so she will have to adjust. If Third fights her directly it will be a draw at best, and we will still have to deal with three opponents—not one."
Dàilán grimaced. "It may be two. Ài is almost as good as Chén'er. I cannot let myself get bogged down fighting either of them from the start. I will go after Biyu and Chàng as hard as possible and hopefully come after the other two once they are down."
"How do they fight?" asked Míng, intent now, her nerves gone as she focused. Ying leaned closer as well, her features sharpening with determination.
"Chén'er fights like me," answered the youngest Heiress. "Makes sense—she trained me. Hit, in, out, fast. Ài… she is slippery. She hits hard but always obliquely—like a snake. Older and strongest among us, so she can take blows as well as give them. Not as strong as an equivalent male Cultivator, but if she gets close—evade her, or fall."
Ying smiled. "Dodging I can do, and my cloth can outwind any snake."
Míng grunted. "If I keep the Formations shifting, Knife will not get close enough to strike. I can bog her down long enough for you two to help me. If they come at us the other way—Ying, move like the wind. Do not let Chén'er touch you. I can trap a snake if I have to." She looked at Dàilán. "If I can, I will try to turn the ground in our favour—slips, slides, holes… I will not go all out, since it is only a spar, but…"
"Do not pull your blows," warned Dàilán. "Chén'er will not. We are all wearing armour with Essence-shielding Formations in it. It would take a Sky-level hit to wound us. We will only be shocked."
"Do not be struck—strike them. Simple enough," quipped Ying, her complexion returning to normal as she focused.
"You do this every day, Third?" joked Míng, shaking her head. "You are more reckless than I thought."
"I have a strong desire to remain alive," Dàilán replied acerbically. "With the state the Clan is descending into, I worry we may be fighting like this in truth soon enough—and they will be full-grown Cultivators aiming for more than blood. I only worry I am not training hard enough."
Míng Jiàn and Ying Yuè looked at her and grimaced together.
"A fair point, Third. Let us hope we have time enough to learn how to survive."
Ying looked across the garden.
"They are moving."
The four maids broke into a sprint across the sand.
"Positions!" Dàilán snapped.
Sand burst beneath her feet as she vanished forward.
Lightning cracked across the garden.
Chénli's training dagger struck the air where Dàilán had stood a breath before.
Behind her, cloth snapped through the air as Yue's veils lashed outward.
Míng's formation circle flared beneath the sand.
The garden exploded into motion.