"Now I assume you'll need garments for more than just a formal setting," Pinglu said as she moved around Silva, using her length of twine to measure his dimensions. "Certainly an evening set and one for training."
"To be transparent, I am rarely one who puts much thought into my appearance, for most of my life, I could count the people who would see me on one hand." Silva replied with a small smile, "So I will trust Mistress Pinglu's discretion."
"Hmm, a wise choice," Pinglu praised, "However, I challenge you to think more critically about your garments. You don't seem like the careless or unattentive type. There is a purpose behind your eyes, a grand one at that. Your appearance should reflect that intent."
"That's what I tried to tell him," Fal chimed in, making Pinglu roll her eyes, "Hush you, or I'll double my rate and help you lighten that rat's den you call a storage ring."
Fal quickly fell quiet, and even his presence seemed to retreat from the room.
"Reflect my purpose?" Silva repeated, ignoring the interaction between his seniors, "I wouldn't know where to begin."
"Just imagine what you want others to think when they first see you," Pinglu advised as she took a step back, "What should they notice, what should they ignore?"
Silva couldn't help but frown in deep thought, imagining how he would soon find himself in command of a squadron of trained soldiers. Did he want their respect, their trust?
"Trying to control or influence how others perceive me is a shortsighted goal," Silva spoke after a long pause, "I should not be hidden or exaggerated, the substance of my character and actions should be the only determinants."
As she listened to his answer, a broad smile spread across Pinglu's lips, "It almost sounds like you believe that those who focus on their choice of clothes are fools for doing so."
"Not at all," Silva quickly corrected, "It is something that I am just not personally interested in."
Pinglu regarded Silva for a second longer before nodding, "Very well, I think I've gotten enough of a glimpse to understand what your tastes are. Everything should be ready in two days. I'll have your garments delivered."
"Two days, that is rather quick," Silva commented, making Pinglu smile, "My centuries of experience aren't for nothing. Regardless, I shouldn't waste time. If that is all, I will take my leave now."
"Wait," Silva called out as Pinglu went to bow, causing her to stop, "Yes?"
"I would like your analysis on a project of mine," Silva explained as he held up his hands, and strings of qi began to spool from his fingers.
Pinglu's eyes widened as she stared at the glowing strands that began to dance through the air quickly winding themselves together in a repeating pattern, 'H-how is he producing such fine amounts of qi and with so much control? I don't even feel any output from his meridians. It's as if the qi is coming directly from his skin.'
Watching from across the room, Fal noted Pinglu's reaction and sighed inwardly, 'Perhaps I should have told him.'
Fal had severely downplayed the significance of Silva's accomplishment; it wasn't something that anyone at his level should have been able to manage. While qi became considerably easier to control in smaller amounts, the ability to limit the output of one's qi was a skill in itself.
Upon reaching the second realm, one gained conscious control of the spirit, treating it no differently than a muscle. However, just like a muscle, individuals would possess varying degrees of innate control. Just as some people were born with the ability to wink, or raise a singular brow.
For the vast majority of cultivators, meridians functioned like gates: either open or closed, absorbing or releasing qi. However, a minority experienced greater control, allowing them to release their qi in much smaller amounts and display a much higher level of control. Individuals with such talents were made excellent scouts, spies, or even assassins as they could execute techniques far more subtly and more easily obscure their spirituality through specialized methods.
But even within that minority, Silva's level of control was an outlier, largely because he didn't use meridians at all. His spiritual roots served as innate limits and made up for the disparity through their sheer volume.
Fortunately, Fal had already confirmed that detecting them was next to impossible, at least for someone at his level. Though if Silva encountered someone stronger than him, such a minor detail was the least of his worries.
As if sensing Fal's thoughts, Pinglu glanced over and made eye contact with the elder, who sent her a meaningful look before dipping his head almost imperceptibly.
A relieved look crossed Pinglu's face as she quickly turned back to Silva and his weaving, "A-a very novel application, though I am not an expert when it comes to qi manipulation. I'm uncertain how I can help."
"You are a seamstress, surely you can tell me if my stitch has any room for improvement," Silva suggested with a small smile, sensing the change in atmosphere.
"Stitch?" Pinglu muttered in confusion before she took another look and saw that a fabric was beginning to drape down from between Silva's hands. Pinglu's shock only lasted for a split second before her critical eye took over and she identified several mistakes.
"This is the beginning of a technique, is it not?" Pinglu asked even as she continued to stare at the fabric, completely enraptured by it, "You're seeking to embody the physical properties of string and cloth."
"Yes, I believe once I become more accomplished with my control, I can create a form of armor," Silva explained, "I was hoping that you could tell me what kind of weave would be the most beneficial."
"It's not truly the weave you need to be concerned about," Pinglu muttered as she reached out and ran the fabric between her fingers, "No matter what pattern you use, if the raw material is of a shoddy quality, the final product will reflect that. I don't know if there is any translation, but your efforts would be better spent producing a higher-quality string. Creating a braid before attempting to weave would certainly improve the strength, though I imagine such a step would add an exponentially higher level of difficulty."
"Difficult, yes, but certainly worth the effort," Silva said, smiling and lowering his hands. "Thank you, Mistress Pinglu, I believe that you've been a great help in many more ways than I anticipated."
"That is all I can wish for," Pinglu replied as she quickly bowed.
"Allow me to see you out," Fal suddenly offered as he stood up, making Pinglu still for a moment before she nodded, "How generous of you, Elder Fal."
Walking side by side, Fal and Pinglu left the room in relative peace; however, that changed the moment the door closed behind them, as a dangerous glint appeared in Fal's eyes, "You are the only one other than myself who has seen the Young Master's talents. If word starts to spread, then my investigation begins at your doorstep, understood."
"Of course, Disciplinary Elder Fal," Pinglu said, not bothering to hide the dread in her voice as she bowed before making a hasty retreat. Watching her go, Fal grinned, 'Looks like I haven't lost my edge after all.'