Dao of Language

I stay quiet, because Yi Ruyi has just pronounced that name with all the solemnity of which he has been capable, like a mystery that would astonish whoever hears it, and now he waits, with his beard between his fingers and a spark of satisfaction in his eyes, for the astonishment that corresponds to such a revelation.

But the problem is that that stopped astonishing me some time ago, because it has been quite a while since I stopped believing that the Celestial Realms are an unfathomable mystery. Lianhua came out of a Celestial Fragment with a technique called Vision of Horus and some scrolls full of Egyptian hieroglyphs that I myself have translated and in which there was a complete guide to cultivation riddled with references to the Ka, the Ba and the Akh.

And in case anyone could still have any doubt, even Master Mu showed me a text written in Latin with a reference to the Legions, so that the conclusion I have held for a long time is that the so-called Celestial Realm, whatever it may be, has its feet sunk up to the knee in the ancient cultures of my old world.

And at this point, for those references to surprise me, it would take considerably more than a cultural reference, it would take someone pulling out a tablet engraved in Quenya, for example. Or in Sindarin, since in that I am not demanding.

That day I promise to be astonished as is fitting, but only just long enough before deciding that finding the One Ring would be the goal of my life.

But the reference to a Celtic god, no. That, unfortunately, arrives late.

Because I know Ogma. I know him in the concrete and slightly obsessive way in which an archaeologist specialized in ancient languages knows a god to whom tradition attributes the invention of an entire alphabet.

Ogma in Ireland, one of the Tuatha Dé Danann, to whom the ogham is ascribed, that writing of notches and lines carved into stone that I spent an entire semester learning to read. Ogmios in Gaul, due to the fact that when the Romans arrived they decided, as they always did, that that god was in reality one of their own with another name.

And above all, Ogma the eloquent, the god of the well-spoken word.

But it is also that Yi Ruyi has not said the chains of Ogma plainly, he has said the golden chains. And that concrete precision has an image behind it, and it is that according to mythology Ogma used those chains to keep his followers happy and content.

And that, to me, resembles a great deal something that has a fairly ugly name.

Because a technique christened with the golden chains of a god who used them to drag men along and which made those men happy to be dragged by them is not exactly the kind of technique one buys without asking questions.

And above all, and this is what truly makes the back of my neck prickle, it is not the kind of technique one wants to know is distributed among everyone who surrounds her while she finds herself up here, in a borrowed house, unable to go out and with two handmaidens for her entire company.

I am turning that idea over, and I have probably already been turning it over for too many seconds, when Yi Ruyi’s voice pulls me out all at once.

“Don’t worry about your surprise, young one”, he tells me.

I lift my gaze and find him looking at me with an expression I had not seen on him until now, because the satisfied impatience of the salesman has disappeared and in its place there is something that resembles comprehension quite a bit.

“The same thing happens to everyone the first time”, he continues as he strokes his beard. “The names that come out of the Celestial Fragments are like that, harsh, strange, impossible to pronounce without stumbling and without any meaning one can draw from them. I have seen people with a hundred years of cultivation behind them left with exactly that same face you have now.”

And I, with surprise, realize that he has just tried to console me, so I don’t disabuse him of his error because that suits me frankly well.

“You are completely right, esteemed Yi Ruyi”, I tell him with a small inclination of the head. “And I thank you for the consolation, because I acknowledge that the name has left me without words.”

Which, technically, is not even a lie. It is only that the words I lack are not the ones he imagines.

I let an instant pass, take the cup, drink a sip and take advantage of the gesture to place the next question with all the naturalness of which I am capable.

“May I ask you what exactly the technique does?” I say.

And Yi Ruyi smiles for the first time since he sat down, with that tranquil satisfaction of one who has spent a while waiting for them to ask him precisely that question.

“You may ask”, he replies. “In fact, it would be absurd for you not to. You are hardly going to know what you want if I don’t explain it first.”

He leaves the cup to one side, joins his hands on the table and begins.

“The first thing you must understand is that the Golden Silk Net is of no use for fighting”, he says. “And I say it at the beginning because it is the first thing everyone asks and because the answer always disappoints someone, since the technique, basically, is only good for talking.”

“In its Initiate stage the technique permits, when used, that the possessor of this technique can communicate without speaking with other possessors of the technique who are within an area equal to double their area of influence, without any need to speak”, he continues. “And its name is due to the fact that when this technique is used, a golden line arises from its user and connects with the other users of the technique who are within their reach, so that they will always know who the people are who will be able to hear their words.”

He makes a brief pause so that I can comprehend what he has told me, and then continues.

“But there is a condition, and it is important”, he adds. “It has the defect that the words pronounced will be heard by all the people to whom the user of the technique is connected, without being able to discriminate against anyone.”

“But that does not prevent it from being able to be taught here without any fear”, he concludes, and now there is indeed pure pride in his voice. “The net only functions between users of the technique and besides you can check right away who the ones who can hear you are, so it is a totally secure method of communication.”

I nod slowly, with the most neutral expression I have, while inside I begin to comprehend the real function of the technique.

Yi Ruyi stops for a moment, takes another of Xia’s refreshments and looks at me as he brings it to his mouth, giving me time to appreciate what he has just told me.

“And now think a moment about what that means when a group of disciples enter the same valley behind a spirit beast”, he says after swallowing. “Others would be shouting orders at one another while the beast or their rivals listen to them. We, on the other hand, make no noise, ever.”

And I, relieved, almost let out all the air at once since it has become clear that it is not a technique of mind control.

It is a technique of transmission, simply. What the name refers to is not the effect, it is the transmission.

And now that I think about it with a cool head, it makes all the sense in the world, because Ogma’s chains were never bonds, they were the path that Ogma’s words traveled to reach his followers.

And that is, in a similar way, what this technique does.

“I thank you truly, esteemed Yi Ruyi”, I tell him next, and this time the gratitude comes out of me without effort. “It is much more than I expected you would tell me.”

He accepts the thanks with a movement of the head and wipes his fingers with deliberation.

“Good”, he says. “Well then, since I have explained myself, now comes the serious part.”

And his tone changes. Not much, but it changes, and suddenly the kindly old man who was consoling a girl for her astonishment has become once again the one in charge of the Chamber of the Scriptures.

“As I warned you before, I cannot hand them over to you free”, he says. “Not even to the daughter of Sun Hao. They all have a cost, and it must be paid.”

“I understand perfectly”, I reply without letting even half a second pass. “And it would strike me as unthinkable for it to be otherwise. Tell me what the price of each one is and I will do my calculations to decide which I will take.”

And there Yi Ruyi stops a moment, strokes his beard again and looks at me in a different way, with that kind of satisfied relief people put on when they have come prepared for a long discussion and find that they are going to be able to skip it.

“Since it’s you, the Qi Grip and Sensing the Qi I’ll let you have for twenty spirit stones each”, he says at last. “They are the two most common ones we have and it would make no sense to ask an exaggerated price for them.”

He raises a finger before continuing.

“The Golden Silk Net is another matter”, he adds. “That one is thirty.”

And having said that, without any haste, he takes his cup again, drinks another long sip and extends his hand toward the plate of refreshments like one who settles in for a wait he knows is going to occur.

And he does well, because I stay thinking, since the first thing I do is look for a reference with which to compare, and the reference I have so close at hand that it is almost insulting.

I only have to remember the auction to which Master Mu invited me and how, independently of its final price, the starting price of the techniques was thirty spirit stones.

Which means that the Qi Grip and Sensing the Qi come out for me below the price at which the bidding started there. And that the Golden Silk Net, or the Golden Chains of Ogma, which is what it is really called, comes out for me at exactly the same as the first bid at the auction cost.

I am still chewing on that idea when memory, which is a hopeless traitor, decides to also bring me the rest of the recollection. The recollection consisting of my brothers bidding against me and of the sixty-eight spirit stones I ended up paying for the Dragon’s Grip.

Sixty-eight for a technique whose starting price was thirty.

And for a second, with the cup halfway to my mouth and the most placid and polite face of my entire repertoire, I dedicate to my dear brothers a collection of curses so varied and detailed that, if any of them had real effect, at this moment the three of them would have serious problems ever sitting down again for what remains of their lives.

Then I push that thought aside, because it is of no use to me and because there is something much more important that I have just realized I have been doing wrong ever since, and it is that ever since that day I have been using those sixty-eight stones as a measuring stick.

Without realizing it, without thinking about it, I have gone through life convinced that a technique costs what that one cost me, and with that figure lodged in my head I have mentally calculated my own fortune as if it were far smaller than it in reality is. That day I paid an inflated price because of my brothers’ dirty trick, and then I have been taking that inflated price for the normal price of techniques for lack of more references.

So I do the calculations again, with all the spirit stones we had, plus the two thirds of our money that Lianhua exchanged before leaving the Palace, and the result leaves me considerably calmer than I expected, because not only do I have more than enough for everything I want to buy, but after buying it I would still have margin left to keep the formation lit and to keep buying spirit food for, I hope, a good long spell.

Provided the stay doesn’t drag on too long, of course.

But that, for the moment, I cannot control, so I decide that I am not going to allow it to spoil the only good spell I’ve had in three days, so I lift my gaze and look at Yi Ruyi, who continues enjoying the refreshment with the patience of a mountain.

“I have decided now”, I tell him.

He leaves the refreshment halfway and nods for me to continue.

“I want one copy of the Qi Grip”, I say with complete tranquility. “Along with three copies of Sensing the Qi and three more of the Golden Silk Net.”

And what happens next is that Yi Ruyi, the one in charge of the Chamber of the Scriptures of the Sect of the Celestial Sun, old friend of my father and cultivator of a level I cannot even estimate, chokes.

He chokes on a piece of refreshment half swallowed, and spends several seconds coughing against his own sleeve while I remain seated with my hands in my lap and the best face of innocence I am capable of manufacturing. Behind me I hear the absolute silence of Lianhua and a minuscule little noise on Xia’s part that she fortunately stifles in time.

“Did I hear correctly?” he says when he finally recovers his voice, with his eyes somewhat watery and a tone in which there is considerably more surprise than a man like him usually permits himself to show. “Three copies of Sensing the Qi and three of the Golden Silk Net?”

“You heard perfectly”, I confirm to him.

And then, seeing his face, I decide that the most prudent thing is to explain myself before he arrives on his own at some conclusion that does not suit me, because an elder of a Sect who sees an outsider ask for multiple copies of his techniques can very easily think of avarice, or of resale, or of things considerably worse.

“Allow me to explain the motive to you, so that no doubt remains for you about the use they are going to have”, I begin. “Of the Qi Grip I only want one copy, and the motive is that at an auction in the capital I already acquired a very similar technique called the Dragon’s Grip. Having that one, a single copy is more than enough for me.”

Yi Ruyi raises his eyebrows upon hearing the name, but does not interrupt me.

“Of Sensing the Qi I want three because all three are going to be used”, I continue. “One is for me, evidently. The second is for Lianhua, who besides being my handmaiden is my bodyguard, and I don’t think it is necessary for me to explain to you how useful it turns out for someone whose job consists of protecting me to have that technique even with her level of cultivation.”

“And the third is for Xia”, I say indicating her barely with my head. “She is training to become my personal cook, and I confess to you that the idea that whoever prepares my meals cannot notice the Qi that is inside what she is cooking rather keeps me from sleeping, so with that technique she will make far fewer errors, improving the quality of my food.”

I make a pause and move on to the important part.

“And as for the Golden Silk Net, it is useless if there are no more people around me who have it”, I continue laying it out. “If only I had it, there would be no reason to buy it. For it to be of any use they must have it too, both of them.”

And then, because it never hurts for a salesman to know that his product has been understood, I add the last part.

“And that way, besides, I will have the advantage of being able to give them orders without anyone around me being able to hear them”, I say. “Anyone who does not belong to the Sect, I mean.”

Yi Ruyi looks at me in silence for a long while, then shakes off his sleeve, recomposes himself, strokes his beard and lets escape something that is halfway between a snort and a laugh.

“Your reasoning is impeccable”, he admits. “I have absolutely nothing to object to, but allow me to remind you of one thing, and it is that with so many copies the price goes up, and it goes up quite a bit.”

“I have already calculated it”, I reply to him. “It is one hundred seventy spirit stones.”

And without giving him time to answer, I turn my head.

“Lianhua”, I say. “Go fetch them.”

What happens next is one of those small things that produce in me a disproportionate satisfaction, and it is that Yi Ruyi lifts his gaze all at once and looks at Lianhua for the first time since he arrived at this courtyard.

And Lianhua, who doesn’t even flinch, makes a minimal inclination, turns around and enters the house, so that the two of us are left alone in silence.

I drink tea, he drinks tea and, for the first time since this conversation began, I have the crystal-clear impression that Yi Ruyi is waiting to see whether this is serious.

Lianhua does not take too long. She comes out the door loaded with four bags, crosses the courtyard and leaves them on top of the table one by one, with care and without noise.

Three of them are full. The fourth, evidently, is not.

“Fifty in each of the three”, says Lianhua, with a tone so neutral that it seems she were going over the shopping list. “Twenty in the last.”

And she withdraws two steps and positions herself again behind my chair.

I look at the four bags, and then I look at Yi Ruyi.

“If you wish to count them to make sure that the quantity is correct, do it with complete tranquility”, I tell him. “It does not offend me in the least, and to me it strikes me as the most sensible thing in the world when a deal is closed.”

But Yi Ruyi does not count them, he stays looking at the bags a good while, with an expression I am incapable of entirely deciphering, and right away I realize that quite simply he did not expect this.

I think he climbed this mountain convinced that he was going to spend the morning negotiating with a girl who would ask him for one technique, perhaps two, who would haggle a bit, who would raise some objection and who in the end would pay with the face of one who is losing something.

And instead of that he has before him one hundred seventy spirit stones on top of the table, placed there without a tremor, without a sigh and without a single word of complaint.

In the end he lets the air out through his nose.

“If you trust that a stranger is not going to take those bags, go down the mountain and never return, then I have no choice but to trust that inside is the correct quantity”, he tells me slowly.

And with a gesture of the hand that I barely manage to follow, the four bags disappear from the table and distribute themselves among different places of his tunic.

Afterward he rises, and then he does something I did not expect at all.

Because Yi Ruyi, who has spent the whole morning looking at my handmaidens as if they were two badly placed flowerpots, who has not given thanks for the tea, nor for the cushion, nor for the refreshments, and who entered this courtyard with the absolute certainty that we were a rung below him, joins his hands in front of his chest and dedicates to me a bow.

It is a light bow, very light, but it is a bow and he is making it to me.

“Then I am leaving to prepare your request”, he says as he straightens up. “When it is ready, I will send one of the disciples who work for the Chamber of the Scriptures to deliver it to you. Although don’t get your hopes up about the speed, because I calculate it will take a couple of days.”

“There is no problem at all, esteemed Yi Ruyi”, I answer him as I rest my hands on the table and return the inclination as deeply as I can. “As long as the Elders of the Sect do not summon me, you can be sure that I am going to continue exactly in this same house.”

That draws from him something resembling a smile.

“Of that I have not the slightest doubt”, he answers.

We exchange the corresponding courtesies of farewell, which he shortens a bit and I lengthen just enough, and afterward he turns around and begins to descend along the path with the same tranquil step with which he climbed, without looking back a single time.

I watch him move away among the trees until he reaches the bend and disappears.

And the moment he disappears, I turn serious, because the pleasant part of the morning has ended and now comes the other, the one I have been postponing since I heard the figure come out of my own mouth.

“Lianhua”, I say without taking my gaze off the empty path. “Come here and sit a moment.”

She goes around the chair and settles onto the cushion Yi Ruyi has just left free, and I look at her face to face before asking her the question.

“With what we have left and maintaining exactly the rate of expenditure we have now, with the formation lit and the spirit food”, I tell her. “How long can we hold out?”

Lianhua does not need to think about it for even a second. And that, more than the answer, is what confirms to me that she had already done these numbers on her own account the moment we handed over the payment and had been waiting ever since for me to ask her.

“Twenty days”, she answers. “That is the maximum.”

Twenty days, so it is better to start thinking about measures in case this drags on too long.

“Listen to me well”, I tell Lianhua. “Over the next few days, when you go down to the Supply Pavilion for provisions, I want you to do something else besides buying.”

She waits without saying anything.

“I want you to find out, with all the discretion in the world and without it seeming that you are asking about anything in particular, whether there exists any possibility of selling talismans to the Sect”, I continue. “If they buy them, who buys them, at what price and what kind of talismans interest them. And if the Pavilion is not the appropriate place, I want to know which one is.”

Lianhua tilts her head barely.

“Are you thinking of selling some?” she asks.

“I brought all the ones we had, including the ones we would probably never use, just in case we had that need”, I remind her. “So starting to make plans for that situation is the best thing we can do right now.”

“As you order, Zhāohuán Wen”, she says.

And I take up my cup again, discover that the ice has melted entirely and that the tea is lukewarm and watery, and I drink it all the same while I think that, if in twenty days the elders still have not summoned me, my plans for them to remain ignorant of the fact that I have been Master Mu’s student can go to ruin when I begin selling talismans.

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