25 That old Auld Lang Syne

I sighed and tossed the thin piece of jade, housing the formation I had been working on on my workbench. After taking over from Chen Dexin, I had the incredible idea to reinvent spreadsheet software in formations. I could use illusions to display the spreadsheet as a type of holographic display and implement the various formulas using the various arithmetic formations that I had studied in my formation primer.

But, unsurprisingly, reinventing what basically was programmable computing using magic was a lot more difficult than I thought—especially since I didn't have any background in electrical engineering, electronics or computer science.

I had access to how the jade slates that were widely used in the school worked now, and it wasn't quite as remarkable or as useful as I thought.

You wrote on them with a special stylus, and then the images could be saved, edited, copied and even transmitted. The way they encoded an image into "memory" and saved it was novel and useful for my ambitions. It was what I thought was just a bitmap, encoded in blocks of binary numbers, probably not too different from what a computer from my past life. 

I couldn't implement spreadsheets that way, though. There would be no way to recognise the formulas you put in.

That meant I had to reinvent character encoding. In Magicland Chinese, which had over two hundred thousand unique characters according to the massive dictionary I had consulted. It would be one thing to reinvent phonetic characters using Latin letters; that would be pretty simple.

I didn't think the written language here was exactly the same as Chinese back on Earth, though, for one. There were more characters, and there was also a phonetic alphabet as well, but the language was complicated enough that attempting to use only phonetics would be kind of useless. Nobody would want to use it.

I didn't think Mandarin back on Earth had phonetic-only characters, either. I remembered that they used Roman letters called pinyin to create phonemes, just as we did. If they had already invented a phonetic alphabet, then there would be no need to use this foreign system ergo, I felt it didn't exist back there.

So, in addition to having to basically reinvent Unicode characters, and I had no idea how to do so, I would have to reinvent some manner to input them, like a keyboard. And that sounded quite hard, too. Obviously, a keyboard with one key for each character wouldn't work, so there would need to be a method for using a limited number of keys to input an almost unlimited amount of characters. 

This sounded more like a computer science problem. I could see how it might work, as the keyboard could use the phoneme characters, but it would need some sort of database of all characters and how they were pronounced so it could infer what you were typing, or you could select from a list if the inference were incorrect. There were a lot of homonyms in this language, and sometimes, the only way to understand what was being said was through context. 

That sounded like an issue complex enough that it would be a graduate or post-graduate level computer science problem, and I barely knew anything more complicated than simple scripts. Plus, I wouldn't have a programming language to develop it in the first place.

Basically, I had decided to take baby steps instead of conquering the world with Excel for the moment. What baby steps? Well, a regular calculator. There were no Arabic numerals here, so calculation, including basic arithmetic, was more complicated than it needed to be—using counting rods, counting boards and abacuses. It somewhat reminded me of how arithmetic must have been in Ancient Rome with its clunky numeral system.

Surely, I could make at least a scientific calculator. Math wasn't unknown here. There was algebra and even trigonometry. I could theoretically implement some of these functions, along with regular mathematic operations, on a calculator.

It was just proving more difficult than I thought. The math formations I had studied were designed to teach someone how to delicately create a formation with minimal risk. They weren't designed as functional formation blocks to take in arbitrary inputs and spit out an output, but I knew it was possible. It would just take a little more research.

I stopped thinking about it and instead considered my progress over the last week.

I didn't participate in the Inner Sect tournament, but I watched it as I was expected to do so. Xiao Li lost, but he did get second place this time in the entire tournament, which was pretty startling for someone who still hadn't broken through to the Foundation Establishment realm. 

It had been my intention to fight in it this year, but that was before I took over Chen Dexin's job. As it stood now, although I was still in the Outer Sect technically, I got most of the resources and benefits of being a Core disciple of Jade Peak, including increased cultivation resources, access to most of the floors in the Dao Repository as well as a half-off discount there.

The cultivation resources were in the form of sixty Qi and Blood pills per month, which, when combined with the high-quality Qi concentrating formation in my villa, would allow a regular person to cultivate most of the time. These were still useful to me, as circulating your true Qi in whatever cultivation method you used tended to agitate the Qi in your body. You temporarily lost a little bit each time, as if you had performed a spell or technique, even as you gained a little bit of true Qi each time at the same time. 

This was an exhausting feeling, so it limited how much time people cultivated unless they were total masochists, and even then, exhaustion was a lot worse a feeling than pain. Since I had decided to buckle down and focus mostly on cultivation this year, I was using my supply of these pills myself.

In the past half year, I had given most of them away as bonuses to my clique or even to my servants, as they were so universally beneficial to most cultivators that their value was always pretty standard. If I only did three to five cycles of my cultivation method in the middle of the night, dancing in the moonlight, then I wouldn't need them. That only took an hour or two, though. If I planned on doubling or tripling my time cultivating—or more, they would and have become necessary.

I might even start using my Qi concentrating formation during the day. I got better results in the moonlight when compared to being inside the formation, but only a little better. Perhaps, eventually, I might be able to devise a Qi concentrating formation that either converts regular Qi into Lunar Qi or perhaps uses a large collecting surface to store it for future use, like solar panels charging a battery. 

I stood up and stretched, and walked over to the Polymorph ritual I had ready, and got ready to cast it. I hadn't intended Fang'er and Chen Dexin to notice me in cat form a few days ago because I had intended to show up to one of my clique meetings in this form—the meeting I had today.

I liked reinforcing what people thought they knew about me because it made them feel clever for "figuring it out" and would stop any further investigation. So they thought I was a cat, so I would be this cat. It wasn't really that big of a deal anymore, as I didn't think I was actually in danger of being dissected anymore. But, I was already so far in the "non-human" camp that I had been hearing rumours about why I had never shown anyone my "true form."

Most Diremonster disciples spent time in the Sect as humans, of course, but they didn't hide who they were, either. For example, Nalani would fly around the Sect in her owl form since she was a very, very fast and silent flyer.

I didn't want anyone to make assumptions about why I was so much more private than everyone else, so my intention was to Polymorph myself occasionally. The first reveal had been an accident, but it had worked out in my favour, I thought. But neither Chen Dexin nor Fang'er was a gossip, so it hadn't actually spread as much as I hoped.

Plus, I had to admit that it was quite comfortable to be a cat and just lay around. I could see why my cat, Miss Militia, liked sleeping so much. Speaking of, Merildwen better be treating that cat appropriately, or I would find some way to transcend the multiverse to take her back. My ex-girlfriend had been cat-sitting while I was in Colorado, but that wasn't a long-term solution. Miss Militia tolerated her but loved me.

After I finished the ritual and polymorphed, I padded over into the room where I had meetings with my group and laid down on a large pillow I had placed in front of the table in advance. It really was quite comfortable. I had the almost overwhelming urge to make biscuits by flexing my claws in and out of the soft pillow material, but that would totally destroy it.

One of my human servants popped his head in and said, "Ma'am, Miss Nalani and a guest are here early; she says she needs to speak with you before the meeting begins."

Frowning, I opened my mouth and meowed in agreement. At least, he seemed to take that for an affirmative as he nodded and departed. Little Fang Fang must be off duty, as she generally liked ferrying messages to me like that.

As I looked at the nice wooden table, my claws flexed in and out. Maybe I could just sharpen my claws on... No! I didn't even own this furniture!

Instead, I laid my head on the table and waited. The owl walked in, seemingly froze a moment when she saw me, but then continued. Following her was another girl. This one was... I chuffed a little, sniffing and tasting the air. A rabbit?

That was unusual. Prey animals rarely became diremonsters, and herbivores almost never. The herbivores that did turn into diremonsters were universally super dangerous, though, so I stilled until I sniffed again—not a regular rabbit. She was some kind of omnivorous rabbit. Perhaps not even actually a rabbit species, but that's what my instincts told me. She wasn't an obligate carnivore like the owl or I were, but she wasn't an herbivore, either.

The girl froze much longer when she saw me, and I got the feeling she was considering bolting. That would be very rude if she did. Finally, she swallowed and walked into the room. I pulled a paw out from under the table and indicated that they should take a seat.

Apex predators like me could get lazy. Anyone who lived in between, both prey and predator, could be incredibly canny and dangerous. I'd keep an eye on this one.

"Thank you, Senior Sister," The owl said politely, paused and said, "I have a favour to ask."

I meowed curiously, wondering if I would have to use Message or if the owl and this new girl would understand me.

"This is one of the new disciples," the owl said, and I nodded, recognising her now. She had fought in the tournament but hadn't done too well. She was actually really good with the sword, but her strength and Qi density were just sub-par. She did well in the first few fights as she was able to use her superior skill to win fights in a flash, but that only worked for a while.

She was probably almost eliminated from consideration on the first filtering of new disciples just on that basis, before even the staircase. I think she must have barely made the cut.

"She's in a very similar situation as I was in, so I would very much like to help her. She came with a fairly poor cultivation method but managed to find an almost ideal one in the Dao Repository," the owl explained, "It was so cheap because it's very limited in who can cultivate in it, so it was mainly in there only to give one insight, not to practice it. But she can."

I meowed in understanding. The owl had to dissipate her entire cultivation base while here at the school, and it had been a real ordeal for her, apparently, having to spend months as an actual owl while recultivating. Wait, was that what she was asking? I meowed again, questioningly.

"Yes, that's what I was asking. If she could stay at your villa for the next four to six months while she recultivates," the owl asked.

I chuffed in annoyance. Not because I was rejecting her but because she was strong enough to get her own villa these days. And I expected her to do so soon. If she already lived in a villa, she wouldn't need to make this request of me in the first place.

She was basically my XO, so she needed to live in comparable conditions. The owl was living in a medium-quality dwelling, barely bigger than a studio apartment. It was beginning to be a problem. People had already commented on it in my hearing at least once, so I meowed demandingly.

The owl rubbed the back of her neck and said, "I-I will! Within the next three months I will take a villa, I promise. But I'd rather this time not be wasted for this Junior Sister, which is why I am asking your help."

I glanced over at this new rabbit-like thing and nodded. She could stay here, in one of the guest rooms—especially if she was going to be one of my new followers. I would always do what I could to help them. She could even use the Qi concentrating formation at night when I didn't need it. I meowed several times at her, and she bowed her head almost to the floor and said, "Thank you very much!"

I waved a paw at her to stop her from actually kowtowing. This cat was magnanimous, but I also didn't like this type of embarrassing display. I stood up, intending to leave so I could go kill the bird family that lived on top of my villa. They must have had eggs the last time I thought about them last week because they had hatchlings now—but that was no matter; I was going to make a KFC family bucket out of them—I would leave nobody out.

But then I froze, remembering why I came here in the first place. Ah, yes, the meeting. I glared balefully at the ceiling: just wait, pigeons. I flounced back onto the cushion and waited. The old human servant arrived, set some snacks and tea for the meeting, and departed. After a brief wait, about a dozen girls filed in. This meeting was just for my "tier one" followers, the new rabbit-thing being an exception, but she could stay since she was already here.

They seemed surprised to see me, and after they took their seats, I let the concentration on the spell go and shapeshifted back to my true form.

"Alright, ladies... let's begin. First, Nalani, give us a briefing about the new disciples our school has invited this year," I said and brought the meeting to order. Although the main reason for this meeting was just to show them my polymorphed form so they could gossip, I did have some actual business to go over, too. 

There had been a fairly large percentage of new female disciples this year, including one that a lot of others were coalescing around. A princess from some dynasty, or something along those lines, was what the spies told me. 

I wanted to encourage this behaviour. Nalani liked being more of a follower than a leader, but I was sure she was capable of this job—but I had to cultivate, pun intended, alternatives, too. I didn't want to end up like Chen Dexin and have to sit on my hands for the better part of a year, or more.

My eyes glanced over at the new girl. Now that I was back in my real body, my mind quickly made the connection, and I remembered the name of the new disciple who would be using my guest room. I supposed cats didn't have a very good memory for names or, rather, didn't seem to care too much.

What did carnivorous rabbits eat? Well, I'd leave that to my butler. I was sure he could figure it out.

---xxxxxx---

I awoke in my luxurious bed and stretched out, wondering if I should get up or stay another five minutes. Or maybe five hours. I really loved sleeping, even if I did it a little bit less than I used to.

For a good month or two after I arrived in this world, I struggled with crippling nightmares every single night, to the point where I tried to stay up as much as I could to avoid them. It wasn't that I didn't still dream of the woods that wend—I often did, at least once or twice a week—it was just that I didn't find these dreams scary any more. If anything, they were kind of comforting now.

It was said that by the time a cultivator reached the Golden Core stage, they didn't sleep at all, with some making that feat even before that realm. A lot of cultivators looked forward to this because who wanted to spend so much time asleep? But I thought it would be a shame when it happened. Perhaps I could still sleep and dream even then, every now and then.

Shaking my head, I got out of bed. It would be night soon, and I needed to cultivate. I felt as though I was close to breaking through, and that would put a cap on a wonderful month. Even though I spent the majority of my time cultivating these days, I had made strides in both my talisman artistry and formation experiments as well.

I got up and took a quick shower, forgoing my usual steaming hot soak afterwards, and walked out into my private back courtyard wearing a thin, loose robe. I had a private spot in the back, up against the wall, which looked from the outside like a cloudy cube of about twenty metres in each dimension. It was Private Sanctum, a spell I recast each day, generally after I had finished cultivating for the day.

I got my best results cultivating if I did it in the buff, dancing in the moonlight like I was Eilistraee. I didn't always dance naked in the moonlight, but when I did, I was pretty careful of my privacy. 

Before I had been able to cast this spell, I used complicated illusions to guard my privacy, but some people could see through illusions even at our level. I was one of, if not the belle of the Outer Sect, and there were a number of what I would comfortably call ninjas here. 

Everyone thought that there were three to four groups of disciples who specialised in intelligence gathering, but I personally felt that was a fake-out, and there was really only one. 

I counter-investigated them and found that not only was there way too much cross-mobility between groups, but the work product that each group sold was identical in all essential aspects, even if it was rewritten as though someone was copying homework and trying not to get caught.

In any case, they could easily be invisible on my roof, observing me. There wasn't anything like cameras in this world that operated on physical principles, but it was possible to share memories, similar to the Encode Thoughts cantrip, and that could be used to create hyper-realistic paintings. It would be a real shame if I had to beat to death a fellow disciple because they were a peeping tom.

From the outside, the sanctum looked like a glassy, cloudy, dark grey cube. But as soon as I stepped inside, it was like it wasn't there at all. It was polarised, so only people could not see, hear or use any spiritual sense to observe the inside. I got Chen Dexin to test that latter part using her spiritual sense, and she was pretty impressed—enough that she tumbled me in the grass inside the cube during the middle of the day while one of the servants was pruning a hedge on the other side of the courtyard.

For a last bit of protection, I cast Faithful Hound.

"Baaa!" the "hound" bleated at me, greeting me. Of course, my hound was in the shape of a dark black goat. It wasn't really alive, either, but it still greeted me each time I summoned it as though it was, and it would alert me if any stealthy people stepped into my cube.

I patted its head, pleased that only I could see it. Then, I placed my clothes inside my dimensional space and began the first circulation cycle of my cultivation method, moving about the confines of the cube in dance as though only I was hearing music.

I didn't have a set routine that I went through every night. I already tried that, and the results were suboptimal—I had to be a bit spontaneous and do whatever I felt like for the best effects. The cultivation method detailed over a hundred and eight distinct dance moves, but they were similar to what I thought of as ballet for the most part.

I could pirouette and fouetté with the best of them now. To say nothing about some moves that I didn't even know if there were English words for. Honestly, I only knew those two words because I went to see Swan Lake once with a past girlfriend.

I danced like that for hours, which was unusual. Usually, I'd do a little dance and then perform a cycle with just meditation and then maybe dance a bit afterwards. I didn't have to dance to cultivate; it just made it a bit more efficient and fun. But I felt on fire tonight like I was hitting each leap and spin.

Finally, I leapt into the air like a figure skater. The best female figure skaters back on Earth could maybe perform a triple axel, but I could bench press a car and leap over a building in a single bound. I spun in place so fast, doing at least twelve full rotations before I landed solidly on the soft ground, digging my toes into the grass with my arms reaching up to the Moon, laughing in exultation.

My cultivation shifted like a reservoir of water destroying a dam. It happened quickly; before I knew it, I was comfortably in the eighth rank—as easy as breathing. It had taken me almost half a year, but I caught up with Xiao Li. Or, I would have if he hadn't already made the breakthrough to the peak of the Qi Gathering stage last month.

I quieted and collapsed on the ground, feeling like my bones were liquid. The closest way I could describe the feeling of breaking through while cultivating was a spiritual orgasm, and it was more intense with this Lunar cultivation method compared to the bland Five Phase Methods that I had started with. 

It wasn't a physical thing like making love. It didn't act on my neural reward pathway and didn't release dopamine, as far as I could tell. If anything, it was more like a brief moment where you stopped being bound by your body's physical constraints, but I couldn't find a better way to describe it, so "spiritual orgasm" was as good as I could get right now.

It wasn't surprising that simply beyond the feeling of getting stronger, one could become addicted to it just for its own sake, though. But it was one of the very rare addictions that generally was beneficial to you.

Even just cultivating was quite addictive, even when I didn't make it a dance, and for a similar but lesser reason. It made you feel you, but more you.

I decided I wouldn't recast Private Sanctum right now. I usually did it after I finished cultivating for the evening, but I didn't usually break through every evening either, so I just wanted to go back inside and take that long soak that I had skipped when I got up. It wasn't a big deal if the duration ran out and it disappeared, anyway. I just liked doing it that way so I wouldn't have to cast it before I started cultivating.

As I lay there recovering, I mentally stretched my senses to the corpse puppet I refined months ago. It was the only one I kept. All the others that I practised with I disposed of, but this corpse of a strong cultivator was a useful tool and weapon. When I left home, I generally kept it in my spatial pouch, but otherwise, it stayed in my workroom as I often made upgrades or modifications to it. I didn't need to be near it to control it after I Attuned to it; I just needed to expend energy.

I had it stand up, activate the illusory formations on its body and then go into my bathroom and start setting up a very hot bath.

Once my legs worked again, I put on my robe again and left my cube, walking straight back into the private area of my villa, straight into my rooms and into the bathroom.

I disrobed and got into the shower to wash off again. As I stepped out of the shower, I screamed like a little girl, jumping and using Qi to cling to the ceiling like Spiderman. Sighing, I dropped back down to the ground.

Rubbing my head, which I hit on the ceiling, I narrowed my eyes at what startled me. It was my Faithful Goat. Once cast, Faithful Hound was supposed to be stationary. It was also supposed to dissipate if you left a thirty-metre radius of it.

Most of the time, that was how mine worked. However, about every third or fourth casting, something like this happened, and it followed me around as I went about my day.

It didn't move, not really. It was much more creepy than that. It was like one of those Weeping Angels, where it would only move if you weren't observing it.

Also, I had the feeling that it was intentionally picking the places to show up to startle me the most. That might even be the reason why it didn't become mobile every time I cast the spell because I would get used to it if it did that.

If I could find some way to control it, it would become very handy—only I could hear its bleats of warning when someone approached it. But I didn't know why it happened, as the spellform, even as I cast it, was identical to what I expected from a normal casting of Faithful Hound. It might be something akin to divine magic now, and if so, I would never understand exactly how it worked before I reached the Nascent Soul stage.

Ignoring the goat that stood motionless directly in front of my shower, I slipped around it and got into the steaming hot bath. I think I cultivated for about six, maybe seven hours so there were still several hours before dawn.

I soaked for a good hour, just relaxing in the afterglow of my breakthrough, before I received a Sending from Merildwen's dad.

< Hi Princess! Exciting news! We just spent the last several hours fighting a native lich! >

What?!?! I didn't have much time to reply, so I just sent <What?! Are you okay? Is mom okay?! What happened?! Get ready to tell me everything! I'm in the bath; expect another message minute or two.>

We had a standard practice when either of us needed to send a lot of information. One of us would send the first Sending, and then after that, I would send one every ten minutes, repeatedly casting the spell as a ritual.

My parents—Merildwen's parents, rather—were not in the league of fighting a lich. Especially not inside a lich's strong place, and since they had been investigating ruins both above and below-ground which had novel types of undead in them, that sounded like a lich's strong place. They had talked about how interesting these new undead they found were, despite them being mostly the same as zombies and skeletons. They were the same threat as traditional undead, but magically they were wildly different.

They weren't animated by the infinite negative energy from the negative energy plane, like traditional undead. They seemed to gain some amount of life energy every day cycle, so long as they were close to or inside their crypts. It was obviously necromantic magic, but of a type that they had never seen before, so they were incredibly enthusiastic, and had been conducting research, often to destruction, on these new undead while still exploring.

I was about to get out of the tub, so I could go to my workroom and start chain-casting Sending but just then someone knocked at the door. It was Fang Fang, and she called out, "Mistress! Can I come in?"

"Come in," I agreed, slinking back under the water so that only my nose and eyes were not submerged. When I first arrived in the school, the little girl Fang had assumed that I would want a much more personal female servant. I didn't know if it was common to have actual bath attendants here. I supposed it must be for the very, very wealthy, but I definitely didn't want any. I think we were both relieved when I set suitable boundaries. 

She opened the door and said excitedly, "There is a messenger. The Jade Peak Mistress would like you to come by at your convenience to discuss an important matter. Should I tell the messenger you'll be along?"

I gaped underwater. The Jade Peak Mistress was only one of four Nascent Soul cultivators in the school, one of which was the Head Master and another of which was the previous Head Master, who was allegedly in seclusion in an attempt to break through to become a Spirit Venerable before his lifespan expired.

Someone like her asking me to come to see her at my convenience was no different from the bosun or even Skipper asking a sailor to come to see them under the same terms; it was a politely worded order.

Fuck. I thought quickly and finally came to the conclusion that family was more important. They weren't technically my family, but I felt like they were, and moreover, I owed it to Merildwen to treat them like they were. 

I pushed my face out of the water and said, "Please tell the messenger to relay to the Jade Peak Mistress that I just broke through and need to settle my cultivation before I come to see her. It may take an hour or two."

That was a good excuse. The truth was that I didn't need to do anything like that—my new cultivation felt as stable as an oak—but it was common amongst cultivators to stabilise themselves after breaking through. Sometimes, it might take days even, so a small delay would not be questioned.

She brightened, "Congratulations on your breakthrough, Mistress!"

"You too," I reciprocated. She was already in the second level now, having broken through just a few days ago, and I hadn't seen her since then to have a chance to congratulate her. She was making pretty fast progress for someone who worked what was sort of a full-time job, especially for someone who was only twelve years old.

She was the daughter of a fairly wealthy mortal merchant from a nearby kingdom but neither wealthy nor talented enough to secure herself a position in the Silver Serenities "elevator school" for promising young brats. This small school based in Cloudsoar City started teaching children as young as five or six and continued until they met the admittance standards on their own or until their parents ran out of money.

Teaching in this school was one of the missions available perennially in the Mission Hall, and even I did so occasionally, perhaps once a month or less, just to break up my boredom and to see the quality of the brats they were teaching. They were... pretty good, I thought. 

I was considered an excellent teacher there because I didn't really practice sword arts or any other weapon arts. For example, I still practised the basic thirteen sword moves that Xiao Li taught me, and I followed this practice with each weapon that I learned, which was a good basis for teaching children.

I definitely wouldn't want to do it very often, but it was kind of fun to go and teach what I ended up calling Big Sister's Basic Thirteen to them now and then. The kids seemed to like me, too.

Fang'er seemed to preen a bit at my praise and then quickly left. I gave her a bit of time to leave my bed chambers before getting out and drying off. Then it was off to my boudoir and getting changed into my disciple robes.

I had several sets of ritual tools by now, and I started casting Sending immediately. I could shave some time off casting the same ritual in sequence, so it really only took me about five minutes per casting after the first time. Still, it took over twelve castings to get the full story, and it was interesting.

It wasn't a lich, at least it wasn't what we would consider a lich. It didn't have a phylactery, and it seemed to be in torpor in a sarcophagus until it was disturbed. It was a sapient, spell-casting undead though so he didn't have much better word to call it.

It was tended to by the strange novel Viking-looking undead in the underground ruins that they had been studying. This lesser undead would seem almost to worship the lich's sarcophagus, transferring a little life energy to it every day. My parents had apparently disturbed the false lich while attempting to learn more about the strange ecosystem, acting almost like an undead sociologist examining the culture of an uncontacted tribe in the rainforest. 

Transferring energy from other undead? That wasn't how liches were powered. Real liches ate the souls of those stupid enough to disturb them, and instead of sleeping like a lunk, they just expanded the defences of their lairs and created diabolically complicated schemes. It was only demiliches who had just assumed they had learned everything that might sleep in torpor for long periods of time, and I knew it wasn't one of them on account that my parents lived through the encounter.

Also... a lich without a demiplane full of explosive glyphs to hide their phylactery? No lich at all, so it wasn't surprising they had bested it. Not every lich had their own Tomb of Annihilation, but every lich aspired to have one.

They were amazed, though, that the lich fought back with completely new types of magic that they couldn't recognise. They were so excited that they went to considerable risks to subdue it instead of simply destroying it so that they could study his novel magical system and interrogate him about it. My mom could rip the memories out of a soul if it was helpless, so it would be interesting to see what they learned.

It looked like I wasn't the only one that was sent far away. Something about what they described sounded familiar, especially the embossings of dragons that covered the sarcophagus, but I couldn't quite place it. Dragons weren't exactly a unique iconography, after all.

I decided to think about it later and instead left my villa and ran full-speed to the Jade Peak.

I was expected and was led into a private area of the peak and admitted into what could be described as a luxurious conference room. I recognised Jade Mistress Xiaoqian, as I made it a habit to come to the Jade Peak every time she decided to speak on the Dao. She even gave me some personal instruction on several occasions. 

"Grand Elder Xiaoqian, I apologise for the delay," I told her politely. I was very glad that cultivators of her level had such high-level senses that my Faithful Goat couldn't Weeping Angel next to us. It was supposed to be invisible, except to me, but I bet she would be able to see it.

She waved a hand and said, "Congratulations on your breakthrough. Your foundations seem very stable... Good, good. You can call me Mistress, little Mei Wen."

Internally, I raised an eyebrow, but in truth, I kept a still face. That was surprising. Most people in the Jade Peak could be considered "nominal" disciples of the Peak Mistress, but not everyone could actually claim that she was their teacher, as she was implying I should do. It didn't make me a direct personal disciple of hers, but it meant I was more than just a member of the Peak like I had been before.

It would be incredibly rude and stupid to decline such an offer, so I saluted her and said, "Disciple greets Mistress!"

She inclined her head once and said, "Take a seat; I'll make some tea as I explain. I've brought you here today for a couple of reasons, but really primarily only one."

I took a seat at the table across from her. I was pretty sure I knew why I was here, but it would be only the one reason.

She made the tea so fast that my eyes couldn't actually follow her doing so, but even still, the tea was delicious. Bitter, though, as always.

She pulled out a talisman, and I recognised it. It was one of my first generation Sending talismans. I had sold a batch of fifty to the normal merchant disciple that I did business with. I expected that they would get noticed by the powers in the school, since he tried to sell things first in the school before taking them out into the world. About half of my talismans usually never left the school grounds.

"I bought the entire stock of these after I noticed them. The student selling them told me you were the artist who created them. Is that true?" she asked.

I inclined my head. This woman was in the Nascent Soul and not in the beginning of it either. I had no doubt that she could do something like match the Qi I used to create it or use some sort of psychometry to know who had touched it. There was just no way to hide it, and I didn't want to do so anyway, "Yes, Mistress."

She nodded, "At first, I thought the merchant was lying about the capabilities of this, but I have tested them in depth by now. They are quite remarkable. The range wasn't realm-wide like the merchant claimed, but I could send a message to someone that I know to be over three million li away. Not four million li, though. The talisman failed when I tried that."

Just how the fuck large was the Winding Rivers Realm in the fucking first place? My pet goat, that was ridiculously large. Still, it was unexpected that it had a range at all, so I frowned, "The way I understand it, it shouldn't have a limit like that. It should be able to send messages to other realms, even." Other planes and universes, even. Was this a limitation of the spell itself or just the translation of the spell I had created in the form of the talisman?

She nodded, "I tested that too, and that's even more remarkable. We have a large number of elders in another realm, and I was able to send them a message. I've spent some time studying the remaining talismans, and if it works the way I think it does, then the range would only be limited inside the realm it is sent from."

That didn't make any sense... or... did it? Perhaps it punched out of the present realm, and, therefore, since it was "outside" the destination realm, it could choose the closest part to punch back in, so the actual "distance" it travelled was less than if it had to go entirely through normal space. 

I didn't know enough about space, spacetime, or the void to answer that question, but I felt that if I understood why the talisman performed like this, I would learn something very valuable.

Also, why did we have "a large amount" of elders in other realms? Travelling to other realms was difficult. Nascent Soul cultivators could do so, but it wasn't without risk. The unofficial name of the Spirit Venerable realm was Void Seperating because this was the first stage at which travel through the realms was something one could do with complete to relative safety.

I decided to ask, "Why do we have a lot of people in other realms? And how?"

She smiled as if pleased I had noticed and said, "You presently don't need to know. But it is one of the reasons we focus on training sword prodigies." She paused for a moment, as if considering and then finally shrugged, "We're responsible for sending cultivators periodically to a perilous realm to keep very dangerous people and things in check. We're only one of the minor partners in this alliance, though. Nobody is asked to go until they reach at least Core Formation, either, and even then, it is optional. Generally, the benefits outweigh the risks, but even still, this accounts for the majority of the deaths of Core Formation elders of the school and always has."

I didn't know the school was part of any type of alliance, so they really must keep that to themselves. I considered what she was saying and finally asked, "Is communication between realms rare or difficult to achieve?"

She grinned and nodded, "It is! I'm glad you're smart. It isn't impossible, but it is rare and expensive. A lot rarer and more expensive than this talisman."

She looked at me in the eyes and said, "I'll be straight with you. We were hoping you could contribute the method to making these talismans to the school. Not all of the dangers our people face in that place are from the enemies, and if everyone that goes had a way to send a message back to the school at an instant's notice, I believe casualties would drop by a quarter."

 I was expecting that, but I hadn't expected that the talisman would be that important to the school. I actually thought that the long-range distance communication inside this realm would be the most useful because it was rare for there to be any inter-realm travel at the stage our school was at.

"I'm not against the idea, however... I have some conditions," I said boldly.

She grinned, "Speak."

"The way the school rewards contributors to the Dao Repository is nice, but theoretically, if only a few people bought this talisman—since I assume it will be kept somewhat secret—my profits would be small since I only earn a portion of what the technique costs, and only the one time. When you consider that the people that will be buying this will be highly placed, they will likely have considerable discounts at the Dao Repository already, too," I said, explaining my hesitancy.

She nodded, "I understand what you're saying. I'm willing to add the additional caveat that you will be compensated on a per-talisman-produced basis, but only for those talismans that the school produces or buys for our own business, although I expect this to be the majority of talismans for the next quarter century."

I thought about what she said. So, if the school directed students to produce the talisman, then I would get a fee, or if the school bought the talismans, I would get a fee. I would only not get a fee if a student produced and sold the talismans to someone that wasn't the school, but it sounded like they intended to monopolise the production and use of them for as long as possible.

I nodded, "That sounds fair. I take it the school wants to have exclusivity on these talismans, so it would prefer that I don't teach others how to make them?"

She nodded. I said, "In that case, if another Sect strong-arms us into sharing the production method, then I want a share of the benefits they give us in exchange—and if someone does do this, then I no longer need to keep the method secret and could teach others, again."

That caused the older woman to raise her eyebrow, but she nodded, "Acceptable, almost. If anyone but one of our alliance members learns the method, then your confidentiality will no longer apply. We will try very hard to prevent this from happening, but it is a distinct possibility. In fact, our own alliance members are the ones most likely to coerce us. Even if that unfortunate thing happens, we'd still like to keep the method confidential amongst us alliance members. I can't speak to exact percentages, but I promise you we won't treat you shabbily."

I'd feel better if I knew exact percentages, but I thought I was pushing as far as I could get away with, "Lastly, I'd like some of the benefits paid in advance. I want a personal flying treasure and a medium-sized spatial ring."

"Planning to go out adventuring after you break through?" she asked wryly. Was it that obvious? I guess it was. The two things a new Foundation Establishment cultivator wanted the most was a fast-flying treasure and a spatial ring to hold loot that they planned to acquire in their adventures.

I nodded, and she waved a hand, "I will gift you a flying treasure myself when you break through. This is something I do for every one of my disciples, and we can give you a spatial ring in advance against your future earnings."

"That's all I needed, then," I said with a smile.

The older woman nodded, "Happy cooperation, then."

"Happy cooperation," I agreed.

We both stood up to leave, and she said, "Come to the Peak to see me at least once every third day. You seem closest to the Soul Dao, which is pretty far from the Dao of Water that I specialise in, but I still should be able to offer you a considerable amount of pointers. As your Mistress, this is something I am responsible for now."