Dao of Language

I contemplate the void that has formed in the Qi-gathering formation, since the Yin gate, which I have kept absorbing without pause with the Resonance activated, has done its work and the result is the same as always, a practically cleared space in which only a few particles can be seen, here and there, that approach timidly from the edge of my perception in a current too thin to deserve the name.

So, with no more reason to prolong the session and before it absorbs the Qi of the spirit stones, I deactivate the Yin gate to then dissolve the rune of the neutral Qi in my mind, thus deactivating the Resonance.

For a moment I stay simply contemplating the void that has formed in the Qi-gathering formation, that gap that the formation, however much it strives, will take a good while to fill again, and I let out another sigh, this time not only mental, at the panorama.

Then I stop concentrating and the room appears before me again, where Lianhua, who knows the rhythm of my sessions almost better than I do, has already set herself in motion even before I open my eyes entirely, and I see her approach from her place of watch beside the door with that measured step of hers that never changes.

She leans over me, surrounds me with her arms with the ease of someone who has repeated this gesture thousands of times and lifts me from the low chair to take me to the wheeled one where she deposits me with care.

While she does it, my gaze goes on its own toward the formation, still active despite the fact that there is no longer anyone using it.

And, like every time I notice that detail, I cannot help an uncomfortable thought about the expense escaping me.

Because keeping the formation lit throughout the whole day, whether it is being used or not, supposes a continuous trickle of spirit stones that are spent to feed it, and the rational part of my head insists on reminding me that it is a constant hemorrhage of resources.

But, however much the idea discomforts me, I also know perfectly well that there is no alternative. Having it active permanently is the only way for the whole system to function, because only thus can it gather enough Qi for me to cultivate, for Lianhua to be able to take advantage of it to keep advancing in her own cultivation in the moments she has free, and besides Xia has to occupy it every morning so that the impurities of her cultivation maintain, before anyone who might pay attention, the convenient fiction that I am the one who releases them.

So the expense, however much it weighs on me, is the price of the lie. And the lie, for now, continues to be cheaper than the truth.

Even so, one thing is to resign oneself to a necessary expense and quite another to let that expense catch you off guard, something I flatly refuse to allow, so after Lianhua has finished settling me, I lift my gaze toward her.

“Lianhua”, I tell her. “I think it is about time we started thinking about buying more spirit stones.”

She looks at me without her expression changing in the least while she waits for me to continue, as she always does.

“It’s not that we are in difficulties, as you well know”, I clarify right away. “We still have more than generous reserves left, so there is no urgency at all. But precisely for that reason I prefer to take care of the matter now, calmly, instead of waiting to reach the limit and having to buy in a rush. I would like to always maintain an intact fund for emergencies, and that is only achieved by replenishing before we exhaust them.”

Lianhua nods slowly, weighing my words, and finally replies to me with that measured tone in which each sentence seems to have been reviewed before being said.

“It is a prudent foresight, Zhāohuán Wen”, she tells me. “Although I must warn you that I myself could obtain them on my own, that is no problem, but the spirit stones found on the market are expensive, and not only that, but they are scarce. To common merchants barely a trickle arrives, almost always what the noble families or the government itself decide to put up for sale when they need to gather funds discreetly, so the price is always inflated.”

“Then buying on the market is not the best idea”, I conclude, following the thread.

“It is not”, she confirms. “That is why I would dare to suggest a different path, which is that the most sensible thing would be for you to raise it with Guifei Xiang. She moves in the circles of the court and of the high nobility, and there the spirit stones change hands at a much more reasonable price and, what is equally important, without the transaction drawing the least attention. A purchase made by her would pass completely unnoticed, while the same purchase made by me would be just the kind of gesture it is advisable to avoid right now.”

I meditate on it a moment, but the truth is that she is completely right and no argument against it occurs to me that is not simple stubbornness on my part.

“You are right”, I admit. “I will speak with my mother, then. As soon as a moment presents itself when I can bring up the subject discreetly, I will mention it to her and we will see what she can do.”

Lianhua inclines her head considering the matter resolved, and just at that instant, I hear some knocks at the door followed by a voice I know all too well, modulated with all the formality she is capable of.

“Zhāohuán Wen”, says Xia from the other side. “Do I have your permission to enter?”

I cannot help a smile escaping me, because there is something profoundly amusing in the contrast between that impeccable formality and the person I know perfectly well is pronouncing it.

“Each day she is more punctual”, I comment to Lianhua in a low voice. “Let her in.”

Lianhua approaches the door, draws back the bolt and opens it, revealing the figure of Xia, who waited on the other side with her back straight and her hands gathered in the exact posture that protocol dictates. As soon as the door finishes opening, she takes a step forward, enters and dedicates to me a reverence so perfect that it seems taken from a manual.

“Zhāohuán Wen”, she repeats, bowing.

I sigh upon seeing her, because she is no longer a girl who feigns solemnity, but a young woman who has turned that solemnity into a second skin and sometimes forgets to take it off when it is no longer needed.

“Xia”, I tell her. “Here we are alone. There is no need for you to make such an effort.”

She lifts her head and, as soon as her eyes cross with mine, that mask of perfect handmaiden cracks at one corner and beneath it peeks the mischievous smile I have known forever.

“One never knows who might be listening, Zhāohuán Wen”, she replies to me, without entirely abandoning the title and visibly enjoying doing it.

I raise both hands in a gesture of absolute surrender.

“All right, all right, you win”, I tell her. “I give up. Do as you please.”

“In any case, I have things to do, so I’ll leave you the place”, I add next as I make a sign to Lianhua to begin turning my chair toward the door. “It’s all yours.”

“Don’t worry, Wen”, Xia replies to me. “I have plenty of practice by now.”

“I know”, I tell her, and it is true that I know it, because she has spent months entering and leaving this room with the naturalness of someone who considers it half hers, and then I turn toward Lianhua.

“Take me to the study”, I ask her.

Lianhua pushes my chair as we leave the formation room and, at our back, I manage to hear the sound of the bolt sliding into its place as Xia closes the door and stays inside, ready to begin her session and to keep sustaining the lie on which a good part of my tranquility rests.

The trip to the study is short and, once inside, I don’t even bother to ask Lianhua to throw the bolt, because what I have in mind to do now bears no relation to cultivation.

Instead of that, I direct my gaze toward the sewing basket that rests on top of the desk and I open it to begin rummaging for what I am looking for.

“Lianhua”, I announce while I keep my invention inside the basket. “I have finally finished the prototype of the garment I had been working on for a while.”

Lianhua approaches a step, interested, and I continue because there is a snag it is advisable to make clear from the start.

“The problem is that I, for the moment, cannot try it on”, I explain to her, and I don’t add the why. “So, much as I regret it, you are going to have to be the one who tries it on.”

Lianhua lets out a soft sigh, of those she reserves for my whims, and inclines barely.

“As you say, Zhāohuán Wen”, she replies with a resignation so serene that it almost sounds like habit.

And here, I acknowledge it, I cannot resist. I look at her fixedly, let the most mischievous smile of my repertoire appear on my lips and let loose the sentence with all the feigned innocence I am capable of gathering.

“Splendid”, I tell her. “Because for that you will have to undress.”

The silence falls upon the study all at once, so sudden and complete that I can almost hear it.

Lianhua stays completely still and looks at me, and I recognize that look instantly, because it is exactly that of someone who is mentally reviewing what they have just heard to make sure they have heard it correctly and that it is not a joke or a trap.

Upon seeing the effect my words have had, I decide that I have had enough fun at her expense and I become a bit more serious to clear up the misunderstanding before the poor woman begins to truly weigh what kind of impossible garment I have prepared for her.

“You don’t have to undress completely”, I qualify. “Only from the waist up, since the garment I have made is conceived to replace the Xiyi and to check whether it works I need you to take it off and put this on in its place.”

Lianhua closes her eyes for an instant, lets out another sigh, this time of pure patience, and, with no further comments, begins to undress, although she only takes care of the upper part, removing with efficient movements the outer clothing until only the Xiyi remains, binding her torso.

And while I watch her do it, I cannot help thinking, to my eternal frustration, here they don’t even have the Dudou, that simpler piece, but the Xiyi, which is rather older and which, in essence, comes to be a kind of flat corset, a band of fabric that presses the chest against the body without the least consideration for the shape or for the comfort of whoever wears it.

Looking at it, I am crystal clear that binding oneself with that has to feel more or less the same as binding one’s chest with strips of fabric like the protagonists of any self-respecting shonen do, and whose result, although it fulfills its function, must be a torment.

And it is precisely that conviction that led me, some time ago now, to begin turning over the alternative I now hold in my hands.

By the time I finish thinking all this, Lianhua has finished taking off the Xiyi and has been left naked from the waist up, and I notice that, although she maintains her composure as always, she has her cheeks slightly tinged with a blush, which confirms to me that, however accustomed she may be to my oddities, this one in particular turns out to be a bit more awkward for her than usual.

So, in order not to prolong the moment, I finally take out of the sewing basket the finished garment and show it to her.

It is, to all appearances and in essence, a brassiere, although one that has had to make not a few concessions to the materials at my disposal. I have not been able to obtain anything resembling a flexible metal underwire to give shape to the cups without digging in, so I have substituted it with hemp worked until giving it a soft rigidity. Besides, I have flatly discarded any attempt to make it adjustable, because without an elastic material that is simply impossible, and the rest I have made in silk so that its feel turns out as comfortable as possible against the skin.

And lastly, to my disappointment, I have had to let it fasten at the back with a knot, since tying that knot is much simpler than devising adjustable clasps at the back, although considering that the Xiyi fastens that way it doesn’t really suppose much difference with the current system.

Lianhua takes it when I hold it out to her and examines it with her brow slightly furrowed, turning it over between her fingers without quite managing to comprehend what she has before her.

And, for the sake of transparency, because it does not seem fair to me to ask her to try on something without knowing what it is, I take the trouble to explain it to her calmly, taking great care not to let slip a single modern term and translating each idea into a language in keeping with the customs of this place.

“It is an inner piece conceived to support the chest without flattening it”, I tell her. “Instead of pressing it all against the body as the Xiyi does, it gathers and holds it giving it room, in such a way that it neither moves when it shouldn’t nor remains compressed. These two hollowed parts are the ones that envelop each breast, these are the straps that hold the weight on the shoulders and this cord is tied at the back so that the whole stays held in its place.”

Lianhua listens to the explanation with attention, looks again at the garment with different eyes now that she knows what it is, and finally takes it disposed to try it on, although it soon becomes evident that she has not the slightest idea of where to begin putting it on, which is entirely understandable considering it is something she has never seen.

So I go guiding her step by step, indicating how to pass her arms, how to accommodate each part in its place and in what order, and, after a few hesitations and the occasional adjustment, she finally manages to place it on correctly, at which moment she brings her hands to her back and ties the securing cord with a firm knot, although I notice that it costs her because it is higher than the normal position it would have in the Xiyi.

I observe her with a critical eye, evaluating the result just as I would evaluate any other of my inventions, and the conclusion I arrive at is that, for a first prototype made by eye and with improvised materials, it has not turned out badly at all.

“How does it feel to you?” I ask her without stopping studying how it fits. “Do you notice any discomfort? I ask because I never got to take your measurements before starting, so the part that holds the chest I had to calculate by eye, and it is just there where it would be easiest for it to bother you.”

Lianhua looks at herself, turns her torso a bit to test how the garment moves with her, and reflects a moment before replying.

“What strikes me as most strange is the manner in which it fits”, she says at last, choosing the words with her usual care. “I am accustomed to that area being flattened, and instead this holds it in a way I am not used to. But besides that strangeness, I would say it has no problem beyond the difficulty of making the knot at the back due to its height.”

I nod, satisfied, because that is exactly the kind of reply I was expecting.

“That is good”, I tell her. “But, since we’re at it, come closer a moment, I want to check one thing. If the part that gathers the chest is well made, it should fit snugly without leaving gaps or digging in at any edge, and that is something I prefer to verify before considering the prototype good, because if the cups have to be remade it is better to know it now and not later.”

Lianhua approaches, obedient, and I lean forward to review the fit of the garment, checking with care that the edges of the cups rest where they should without forming wrinkles or leaving extra space, and taking mental note of the small touch-ups that will have to be made in the next version.

I am in the middle of the inspection, completely concentrated on the seam and on whether that line here is too taut, when the door of the study opens wide without prior warning.

“Wen, I wanted to tell you that…”, my mother begins to say as she enters, with that confidence of someone who has the custom of presenting herself in my rooms without announcing herself, but the sentence she has begun cuts off short halfway through.

And I don’t need to lift my gaze to instantly understand why, since I am perfectly capable of imagining the scene just as it has just appeared before her eyes, with her daughter leaning forward with her hands placed on the chest of her Fei Yi, who stands before her practically naked from the waist up.

A complete silence settles in the study, and my mother stays planted in the threshold with her mouth still half-open in the middle of the word she was going to pronounce, her eyes fixed on us and an expression I would not know how to describe other than as that of someone whose brain has just stopped completely awaiting instructions.

And I, meanwhile, cannot avoid the only thought that crosses my mind with total clarity at this precise instant, which is that I am not in some kind of romantic comedy anime for it to fall to me to star in just this kind of scene.

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