Chapter 274 — Half-Step

CHAPTER 274

Half-Step

The stone floor of hut nine was sweating.

Shi Feng noticed it a little before dawn, when a drop of water slid off the bedframe and landed on the back of his hand. He opened his eyes. Every flagstone in the room was dark and beaded with damp, as if it had rained indoors. The walls were the same. Even the cracked cauldron on its three bell-legs had a wet shine.

He had been sitting in the same cross-legged posture since the Valley wagons left the gate. Ten days of the Gathering had gone into his qi, and the last of it had settled.

[Foundation: full. Core: not formed. Note: no thunder.]

Shi Feng checked his dantian. His foundation was complete, with no gap left to fill. More qi gathered above it but found nothing to condense around. He’d reached the limit of Foundation Establishment without yet forming a core.

He tried once, gently. The qi gathered, turned, and slid away like water off a roof.

He tried a second time, harder. The room gave a low hum. The drops on the walls ran together and fell.

“Shi Feng,” Sima Lan's voice came through the wall. “Your hut is leaking into mine.”

“It's the floor,” Shi Feng said.

“I know it's the floor. I'm not a fool,” Sima Lan said. A pause. “I'm adding the mop to your account.”

“Add it,” Shi Feng said.

“Already did,” Sima Lan said. Her footsteps went away, brisk and unhurried.

Shi Feng stood and opened the door. The air outside was cold and clean, and the eastern sky was the colour of weak tea. A familiar figure sat on his doorstep with his back to the frame.

Lin Langtian was eating a sweet potato.

“Morning, Junior Brother!” Lin Langtian said, without turning round. “Your floor's crying. I could hear it from the lane.”

“How long have you been there?” Shi Feng asked.

“Second watch,” Lin Langtian said, breaking the potato and offering the larger half. “You were cultivating. I wasn’t going to interrupt just because the floor started sweating. Eat while it’s hot.”

Shi Feng took it and sat down on the step beside him. It was hot, and it was good.

“Tell me,” Lin Langtian said, cheerfully. “What's it feel like?”

“Full,” Shi Feng said. “And stuck.”

“Stuck where?” Lin Langtian said.

“At the top. The qi has nowhere to go,” Shi Feng said.

“Ha!” Lin Langtian slapped his knee, which made the doorstep shake. “Half-step Golden Core! Congratulations, Junior Brother. Do you know how many people reach half-step at your age?”

“How many?” Shi Feng said.

“Very few,” Lin Langtian said, licking his thumb. “And none I know with a foundation like yours. You’ve filled it completely. More qi won’t solve what comes next.”

“Why won’t it condense?” Shi Feng asked, looking back toward his damp hut.

“Because a core doesn't come from qi, Junior Brother. Qi's only the water.” Lin Langtian drew a line in the dust with a twig. “To form a core, you need a push from heaven. The lightning tribulation. It hammers your foundation into a seed, and the seed turns into the core. Without the hammer, no seed.”

Shi Feng looked at the line in the dust.

“Then I wait for lightning,” Shi Feng said.

“You don't wait. You invite it. And you set the table first.” Lin Langtian pointed the twig at him. “Your foundation is a lake. You need a thunderstorm to fill a bucket that size.”

“And if the storm is too small?” Shi Feng said.

“Then the core’s thin, and you live with that for a hundred years,” Lin Langtian said. “Too much thunder without preparation can break you instead. Stop worrying about which it’ll be. Haste won't let you eat hot tofu. We prepare first.”

The sky was lightening behind the eastern roofs. Somewhere down the lane a door banged and a boy complained loudly about cold water.

“What do I need?” Shi Feng asked.

Lin Langtian took a folded sheet of paper from his sleeve, with a clean sweet-potato fingerprint on one corner. He smoothed it flat on his knee.

“Three things,” Lin Langtian said. “One. Thunder-Marrow ore. It's a black metal that hums when lightning is near. It pulls the strikes into a pattern. Without it the bolts come down any way they like.”

“Two?” Shi Feng said.

“A beast heart. Golden Core-grade, fresh, and from something that was born near thunder. Eat it before the lightning comes, and your body will know thunder before the tribulation does,” Lin Langtian said.

“Three?” Shi Feng said.

“Thunder-Calming herbs. Nine stalks, and you brew them in the hour before. They keep your meridians from shattering when the lightning lands.” Lin Langtian folded the paper in half and put it in Shi Feng's hand. “That's the list. I wrote it myself.”

Shi Feng unfolded it and read it. The handwriting was large, cheerful and crooked. At the bottom, in a different ink, someone had drawn a small potato.

“Where do I get them?” Shi Feng asked.

“Ah.” Lin Langtian rose and dusted his robe. “Ore is in the Wujin Mines, but Martial Palace's wagons carry the good grade. The heart is in the Ashfall Marsh, and it's guarded. The herbs are in the Sky Pavilion, at a price I'd rather not say in the open air. Even the cleverest housewife can't cook without rice.”

“Can the sect pay for any of it?” Shi Feng said.

“No,” Lin Langtian said happily.

“Then who?” Shi Feng said.

“Go and show the list to the Sect Master.” Lin Langtian was already walking away down the lane, one hand raised in farewell. “Watch his broom, Junior Brother. You'll learn a lot.”

Shi Feng sat on his step with the paper in one hand and half a potato in the other. Behind him, in hut nine, the floor went on sweating.