Chén'er woke Dàilán a shí earlier than usual the next morning. After her morning tàijíquán exercises, the Heiress had a quick scrub off, aimed more at cleaning off the sweat than any attempt at beautification — and another dose of the 'blessing' potion, the faint metallic taste of her own monthly blood lingering stubbornly at the back of her tongue.
With Chénli's help she dressed quickly in what appeared to be a plain set of commoner's linen under-robes. A small pouch of travel rations and a water flask on a travel belt were slung around her waist, and then everything was covered by a serviceable, faded, hooded servant robe — matching her lady-in-waiting's clothing.
Chénli pulled and tugged on the unfamiliar robes on her Mistress' body a few times, making sure they obscured her features, then fixed her with a serious look.
"We need to seem like ordinary servants. Try to blend in and stay quiet until I let you know it is safe to speak, please?"
"If you feel it is necessary, of course, sister," replied the young Heiress quietly.
The two of them slipped out of the Third Heir suite and headed toward the service entrance from Third House, heads down to avoid stray glances at their features as they hurried through the corridors.
At this time of the morning, the first feathers of the Golden Crow were only just beginning to show above the mountains on the horizon, but the servants' quarters were already quietly busy as the people that kept things moving day to day in the Clan started getting things ready for when the Nobles woke.
Cook fires were being coaxed awake in the kitchens, sending thin ribbons of smoke above the tiled roofs. Buckets sloshed as water was carried across stone courtyards. Brooms rasped softly against flagstones, pushing yesterday's dust into neat piles. The air carried the smells of damp stone, early cook smoke, and freshly cut greens.
Setting the compound into daytime order — as well as seeing to their own morning meals and chores — had to be done before they would be called upon by their Masters.
Thus, no one paid particular notice to the two of them moving through the servants' quarters and mingling with the workers entering and leaving the compound through the service entrance.
A pair of scullery maids carrying baskets of greens barely spared them a glance. A sleepy laundry girl stepped aside automatically with an armful of linens. A stable hand wrestling a stubborn mule cursed softly as he squeezed past.
To the household staff already at work, they were simply two more girls beginning another day of labour.
Dàilán looked curiously at her bodyguard, but Chénli had asked her to avoid attracting attention so she followed her in silence through the streets, mingling with merchants, farmers bringing in produce, street cleaners, and tradespeople setting up before the morning rush began.
Shutters rattled open along the narrow streets. Wide reed brooms hissed across stone. The smell of wet dust, cook-smoke, and crushed vegetables drifted through the cool morning air as carts rolled toward the markets.
They eventually reached a small rest house near the South Gate of the Inner City.
Chénli went into the inn without stopping, seemingly unnoticed by the staff who were also getting ready for the day, and moved quickly up the stairs to the second level, stopping at a door to tap lightly.
It slid back to reveal Ài dressed in what appeared to be Chénli's standard 'bodyguard' outfit while wearing a hanfu, making it harder to pick out her features. Dàilán blinked in surprise, but Chénli moved into the room quickly, so she followed hastily, feeling the prickle of a privacy formation as she passed the threshold.
Chàng was sitting on the bed dressed in one of Dàilán's usual everyday robes, her face and hair made up in a close approximation of Dàilán's usual appearance.
"It is safe to speak here," remarked Chénli as the door was shut, "but we cannot stay long. Chàng and Ài will pretend to be us until we return from the Sect. Hopefully no one will notice our absence."
"Change into these, Young Mistress," requested Ài, handing her a set of nondescript robes, boots and gloves. Dàilán could see Formation Runes inscribed and stitched into the inner leather lining of all the items. "Battle robes?" she asked.
"Something like that. Just in case," answered Chénli, changing into her own set.
Dàilán frowned and nodded, quickly switching outfits. The pouch of food and the flask of water were secured underneath the robes.
"Daggers go inside the straps in the sleeves," said Chénli, nodding towards Ài who was holding out a pair of Essence Formation daggers, similar to her favourite training pair, but made of Essence-forged steel. "Be careful not to channel Essence if the blade edges are touching your skin."
"They will stay blunt until I do?" checked the Heiress as she turned them over in her gloved hands.
"Yes, Mistress," replied Ài, "they hold a charge for a shùn after you stop channelling; no one else can channel Essence into them for a year after your last imprint into them — the daggers will explode if anyone tries."
"Long enough for a throw to be deadly; unlikely anyone else will be able to use them against you," clarified Chénli, strapping her preferred sword to her back.
"If I need to fight without Essence or I cannot channel?" the young teen pointed out an obvious shortcoming as she accepted the weapons and placed them into the sleeve straps.
Ài handed over a smaller regular dagger and Dàilán looked it over. "Ah. Holdout?"
"Try to put it somewhere unexpected," advised Chénli.
The Heiress snorted in amusement as Chénli turned to Ài. "Wait until Market Street opens; then be seen shopping and going back to the compound before it gets busy," the head lady-in-waiting ordered, "Biyu will let you in. Stay in the Heir Suites. If anyone asks to see the Young Mistress, she is indisposed due to a difficult Blessing. If they ask why you were out so early, you went to the Market early to find fresher Blessing potion — but were unsuccessful."
"Understood." Ài bowed. "Travel safe." She opened the door a crack and looked out. Seeing a clear corridor, she opened it.
Chénli turned to Dàilán. "Hood up, Lán'er." The bodyguard matched her actions to her words and her face shimmered, becoming indistinct. "I will be setting a fast pace, eat the food in the pouch if you get hungry. Use hand speech if you need to talk about anything sensitive or that might give away your identity."
"Very well, Chén'er." The young Heiress put her hood up and followed her bodyguard out of the inn.
The pair of them left the inn and headed into the Outer City, mingling with farmers and merchants heading out of Hujian. As they left the walls behind, they turned off the main road toward the surrounding fields and forests.
The road narrowed quickly once the city walls fell behind them, turning from busy stone thoroughfares into a winding track through low hills and patches of secondary forest, the morning light filtering through leaves in shifting bands of gold and shadow.
Dàilán followed her friend's footsteps automatically, thinking about last night's discussion with her father.
---
The evening meal had been quiet. Too quiet.
The low round table between them had been set with simple dishes — rice, pickled greens, braised fish — but the three of them had paid little attention to the food.
Dàilán remembered the slow clink of porcelain bowls and the faint scent of ginger rising from the fish as her father finally set his chopsticks down.
"Absolutely not."
His voice had been level, but utterly without inflection.
"I have no wish to be at the Sect's beck and call either, Father," Dàilán had replied carefully, "but Grandfather passed on a request when he could have made it an order. And given our current situation…"
Her father's chopsticks rested motionless beside his bowl.
"It is not as if his 'request' is any different from an order," he returned quietly. "And the last time one of this family went to fulfil one of his requests…"
The words faded into silence.
Another quiet moment passed before she spoke again.
"Mother did not come back," Dàilán said softly.
Her father's shoulders tightened.
"Grandfather's daughter did not come back either. Perhaps if she had stayed as just my mother she would have been safe — but would she have been content with that?"
Her father closed his eyes briefly.
"No."
"Perhaps Grandfather has avoided us in grief or guilt. It was because of the Sect mission that she died," said the Heiress softly, "but if we turn him away, then will we not be turning away an ally when we need it most?"
"I do not wish to lose you also," her father returned equally softly, "it is too early for you to be the Sect Heir."
"Our enemies... if I am correct, possibly the Sect's enemies — do not seem to think so. If I do nothing, we could lose everything." She paused and took a bite of rice, "Besides, I doubt he is summoning me for a mission — I am thinking it has to do with the difficulties we are experiencing — in which case it is in our interest to meet with him."
Her father sighed and looked at Chénli sitting opposite from his daughter. "I trust you will take every precaution?"
"Yes, Elder," Chénli bowed, "everything in my power."
He nodded and rose from the table, looking tired, and bowed towards Dàilán. "Be safe, daughter." He turned and left the dining room, leaving the two young women looking seriously across the table at each other.
---
Dàilán snapped back into focus, realising that Chénli had stopped, her body instinctively reacting by crouching behind a large tree before her brain consciously realised why.
Movement. Threat. Three to five. Chénli's fingers flickered as she raised a flask to her lips in their private battle cant.
Distance? drummed out her own fingers as she brushed a leaf off her shoulder and took a sip from her own flask.
Close.
That was alarming. They were not common bandits if they had been able to get this close without Chénli noticing. She frowned, gauging their distance to the Sect. Apparently she had been lost in her thoughts longer than she realised — they were already some way into the hills, only half a shí's travel or so out from the Sect boundary according to the maps she remembered her mother showing her, which was disconcertingly close for hostile forces to be operating.
Guards? Destination? she signed, as she retired the flask and took out a ration, leaning casually against the tree. Hoping Chénli understood, she brushed her fingers across her throat in an old Essence trick they used to use as a joke when they were younger.
"About time for a break, boss?" When she spoke it came out in a much deeper tone than her normal voice — enough to pass for a young man.
Chénli's eyes narrowed as she shook her head, pitching her own voice slightly higher with a noble accent. "A quick one. We have to be there by nightfall — I would not want to be caught in these hills after the Crow nests."
"I can take care of bandits, boss. That is what you hired me for," retorted Dàilán cheerfully, smirking at her friend's 'silkpants' act.
"I am not worried about bandits… Or—" Chénli stopped herself mid-word, then continued smoothly, "—lan."
The name came out slightly forced, but convincing enough for anyone listening nearby.
Dàilán almost choked on her ration bar as she realised what Chénli had nearly said, hastily turning the cough into a rough mercenary grunt.
Dàilán let her voice become mocking. "Essence Beasts… fair enough, boss." She let a small trickle of her Essence out in a quick sweep and grimaced beneath the hood at the faint echo of tightly contained Essence she felt. No, those were not bandits. And if they were not a Sect patrol...
Avoid? Confront? Her fingers shifted around the ration bar as she bit into it.
Conceal, Chénli's fingers tapped restlessly in response on the flask as she stoppered it. "Best keep going then," she said aloud, "we cannot afford a delay."
Strike? signed Dàilán, her fingers moving quickly as she pulled at her boots as if making sure the fit was snug, putting a hand down to check her holdout blade. "Pebbles get everywhere," she grumbled.
Chénli started walking again along the path that wound around the secondary growth forest trees. "Keep up, mercenary, I paid you to guard me," she said disdainfully, waving her hand around in a noble's affected hand gesture, Counter-ambush. I defend.
"Nobles need to piss too, right? There is no one around, I will catch up. Or you are welcome to watch — might see something new," replied the Heiress, glad the hood hid her face as she felt herself flush.
"Ill-mannered lout," sneered Chénli in affected disgust as she stalked off down the path.
The young teen stepped behind some bushes, letting out a satisfied noise as she felt the attention focused on her waver and pushed her Essence through her invisibility technique and Mountain Mists. The robe she wore seemed to amplify and smooth the techniques, making them even more effective than usual.
Dàilán trickled out another sweep of Essence and grinned as she leapt up into the tree above the bushes, using only a feather of Essence to pull herself soundlessly and invisibly up onto the branch, without disturbing anything. Three of the Essence points were moving to intercept Chénli, but very casually. Two were headed slightly more briskly towards the bushes she had stepped behind and three were staying put.
Good. That meant they believed they already understood the situation — three hunting the 'noble', two checking the suspicious mercenary, while the rest watched the road. Exactly the sort of lazy confidence that got people killed.
She pulled her gloved hands into her sleeves and dropped the daggers into her hands, breathing slowly and evenly, forcing her mind into the calm emptiness that preceded violence.
A pair of men in rough clothing and what appeared to be ill-fitting leather armour appeared between the trees and walked over to the bushes underneath her perch.
She was not fooled by their appearance; their feet made no sound as they moved through the forest leaf litter and they moved like Cultivators channelling Essence.
She dropped between them from the branch, channelling Essence through her daggers even as both men stabbed well-sharpened swords through the bushes, the leaves on the bushes crisping and curling away from the edges of the Essence-charged blades — just as her daggers sank into the tops of their skulls like soft dòufu.
She landed soundlessly as they began to crumple on either side of her, Essence sparking uselessly as their brains turned to gāo. She let go of the daggers and caught both men under the arms, suppressing a grunt at the weight as well as the stench of voided bowels and bladder while she lowered them quietly to the ground behind the bushes.
Sliding the daggers out of their gruesome sheaths, she moved silently with the Mountain Mists technique, reapplying the invisibility that had snapped the moment her daggers pierced the attackers' skulls, heading for the three still in their original spot.
Moments later she was within a quarter li of the three, pausing as she picked out a murmur.
"Why are we wasting time with these two anyway? We are supposed to be tracking the Knife Sect's patrols, not actually being bandits."
"They are overdue to send someone through here — we should rotate to the next site soon," muttered the lookout, glancing toward the road.
"Relax," replied the other man, rolling his shoulders lazily as he checked the edge of his blade. "This is what you might call an extra benefit of this duty. Get to keep any spoils."
Seeing as the three seemed more intent on their conversation than keeping watch, Dàilán moved between the trees closer to their position, carefully avoiding brighter patches of sunlight that fell between the trees and might give away her position. The child's hiding technique was meant more for hiding a still person, so keeping to the less well-lit areas lessened the chance anyone might notice any odd distortion caused by her movement.
The three 'bandits' were sitting on some logs around a small hollow ringed by large trees, where signs of a small, currently unlit campfire were visible — one sitting on a log on the far side of the campfire, looking out into the forest away from Dàilán — and the other two arguing while seated on either end of a log across from him, their backs to her. Judging by the small bedrolls and various bits and pieces scattered around, they had been there a while.
Like the two she had killed, they were dressed roughly, looking unshaven and unwashed, but they were carefully oiling and inspecting well-serviced Essence weapons even as they spoke. Dàilán laid a hand on a large tree that had a branch stretching over the pair arguing — and swung upward onto it.
"I do not like it. Might alert the Knife Sect we are here."
Soundlessly she moved over their heads using a little more Essence in Mountain Mists to avoid transferring enough weight to cause the branch to move.
"Then we kick off a little early. We are almost ready anyway."
The third man was looking towards where Chénli was currently engaging the other three, judging from the distant shouts and ringing clashes of weapons. She narrowed her eyes, seeing that he was at least paying some attention to what was going on.
The watchful 'bandit' raised a hand as he kept looking towards the noises, his voice irritated. "Shut it. What the hells is taking those three so long to get rid of that silkpants?"
The two of them looked towards the one seated across from them. She would not get a better chance.
Dropping down from the branch, she repeated her earlier trick with the daggers through the tops of the skulls of the two below her as she landed. As the two on either side of her stiffened, Essence and foul smells rising off their bodies as they released their bladders and bowels in death, slumping off the log with loud thuds, she answered nonchalantly, "I expect it is because she is not a silkpants."
She was already blurring forward as the other Cultivator turned in shock, bringing up his sword to block her daggers, but he was in an awkward position, seated and half turned away from her. Despite his Cultivation base flaring as he tried to reinforce his body, he did not have enough time to prepare as one Essence-enhanced dagger cut off his sword hand at the wrist, with a splash of carmine. The scent of iron and faeces filled the air as the other sank into his abdomen, piercing the dāntián there.
He howled, his Essence flaring out of control and body reinforcement collapsing as his Cultivation was shattered. "Knife bitch! The Grass always grows back…" he lunged up at her with a knife in his other hand, his severed wrist trailing blood through the air, but she jumped back and flicked the dagger that had severed his hand into his throat.
Without Essence protecting him, the impact of the Essence weapon tore him off the log and pinned him to the tree behind it; the blade punched through his throat and bit into the trunk, the force of the throw severing the rest of his neck as the body tore free and crashed forward to the ground.
The young Heiress grimaced briefly at the mess and stench, then shook her head and moved quickly to kick the body over and pull her knife out of the headless corpse's chest and the tree trunk, letting the severed head drop to the ground.
Flaring Essence through the cloak and daggers had blood and other less identifiable substances rolling off the blades and robe to leave them pristine, trailing faint ribbons of blood through the air behind her as she dashed towards Chénli's fight.
For a brief moment the forest seemed strangely still after the violence, the only sounds the soft rustle of leaves and the distant clash of steel and grunts of pain and exertion ahead.
These men had not been bandits.
The lie of their disguise had died with them.
And Chénli was still fighting.