Published at 3rd of March 2026 7:13 am

Chapter 46- The Arrival of Consequences

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“A… mandatory mission, Senior Brother?” Tian wasn’t employed at the hospital, but some habits are hard to shake. It was for this reason that the brother from the Mission Hall found him pushing a mop in the hospital hallway.

“Yes. Here are your instructions.” The Brother handed him an envelope and turned away without another word. Tian silently sighed and opened the orders. His eyebrow raised, and he snorted lightly.

“Well. It would have been too much to expect no reaction. Can’t rip off someone’s face and expect them to like it.” The words came out in a murmur. He wasn’t sure which Heavenly People were listening in, but their attention here in the heart of the sect was always present. Mostly you had to hope that they were practicing selectively ignoring people.

He opened his mouth to ask those seniors a question, then closed it again. It was probably a good time to maintain polite fictions. He had learned at least that much, watching these animals called “people.”

Tian went out to the woods an hour from the sect. His orders came with detailed instructions. This hill and its environs was the place he was to work.

“This… should be a linden tree right? The leaves and bark match the description.” He rested his hand against a tree trunk.

Yes, and it’s not in good shape. Looks like it’s taken some wind damage. It’s a good one to harvest.

Tian set to work, cutting the tree and trimming away the branches. He used a saw to cut the trunk into wide logs, then split the logs with wedges, then split the smaller logs into uniform pieces with an axe. Once he had the wood cut, he swept them up in his storage ring, and consulted the instructions.

“The kiln is just around to the side of the hill? Hmm.”

Tian found a small path, and followed it to a dome shaped kiln built into the hillside. It was hard to spot unless you were standing in front of it- grass grew over the mound, with only the areas around the small chimneys staying clear. It looked like it hadn’t been used in a long while. There were loose bricks heaped next to the entry.

“Where is the fire box? It should be- here we go.”

There was an iron plate covering a hole under the kiln. He pulled aside the plate, and found an ash-filled chamber the size of an oven. He raked it out, got it reasonably clean, and loaded it with dry firewood. The cut sections of Linden wood were stacked vertically in the kiln, with just a tiny bit of room for air to flow between them.

When the kiln was full, he used the bricks to block up the door. He went down to a nearby stream and dug up some clay, carrying it back to the kiln and set about sealing the gaps in the door. Then he lit the fire below the kiln.

It took careful tending. He had to feed it and keep the temperature consistent, but not excessive. Soon, white smoke poured out of the top of the kiln, thick plumes that reminded him of the Potters Quarter in Burning Flag City. He could see how people might find demons in that smoke.

Eventually the smoke turned from billowing white to thin streams of blue-black. It was done. He let the fire burn out, but didn’t open the kiln. It was too hot, now. If he let air in there, his hard work would literally go up in flames. Instead, he set up his tent, ate a small meal, and spent his evening quietly.

The next morning, he set out to cut more wood. When he came back to the kiln in the afternoon, it had cooled enough to open. He removed the bricks and looked at the fruit of his labor. Charcoal. High quality, clean burning, suitable for most ordinary purposes.

A load of charcoal like that could keep a forge going for… days? Weeks? He really didn’t know what their burn rate was like. It looked like a lot, but how long would it really last once you started burning it?

Well, it wasn’t his problem. He was just here to make charcoal. Indefinitely.

He had successfully completed his task fostering the Snow Grace Crane, so the subsidy would be terminated. To make sure he was still able to get by, the sect, after almost two years, finally found him a job. Making charcoal, specifically on this hill, using this kiln, following the simple, clear instructions provided. He was expected to deliver three loads of charcoal a week, with any excess he managed to produce belonging to him. A chance to earn a little extra, if he was motivated and efficient.

He would have to be very efficient if he wanted to make more than his quota. According to the instructions, it could take up to two days for the kiln to cool enough to open between burns.

There were no tricks or hidden traps. He had ample free time to think or cultivate or read, whatever he wanted, really. He didn’t even have to stay up on the hill. If he had the ability, he could commute to and from his home. It was two hours each way on foot, but he could do it.

Every day. Until the Elders changed their minds.

Perhaps they thought it would take the edge off his pride. It was dirty, heavy, repetitive, and boring. There was no great dao to discover here, no great elemental insight, no hidden technique worth knowing. It was lonely, dull, and useful to the sect without being particularly useful to him.

A very mild punishment when looked at from one perspective. A severe one when looked at another way. The strongest in the Outer Court, burning charcoal? Ostracised, isolated, doing peasant work of the lowest sort. No chance to cultivate a dignified, fearless image within the sect if he was working in the woods. No chance to change people’s view of him. It might even delay his breaking through to the Heavenly Realm. What kind of revelation could he find here? And if he did find something, wasn’t that a blessing from the Elders?

It was, in Tian’s opinion, exquisitely calibrated in both political efficiency, subtlety, and pettiness. After all, they could keep him here quite literally until the day he died. They wouldn’t, but a decade or two would be entirely feasible. After all, it’s not like he had more pressing business to attend to. No wars to fight, or lives to save. No adventures to go on.

Tian didn’t say a word of complaint. He didn’t slack in the work, nor did he stop reading his medical textbooks, or finding time to practice with his flute. He didn’t stop his martial arts practice either, focusing on control, on mastering the softness in the soft, internal palm arts.

Burning Heaven was entirely happy to shuttle him back and forth, and sometimes Liren would spend the day with him, chatting and painting. He was a wood cultivator, working in a forest. It really wasn’t that bad. It was just boring, and made him feel trapped in a constantly shrinking cage. It made him want to shake his finger at the Elder’s noses, demanding to know why they asked if they didn’t like the answers.

Why was their face more important than the lives of him and his brothers? Why did they ever think that setting him to work on a job like this would make him more respectful and obedient in the future? Did they think doing this proved him wrong? Or were they subtly endorsing Lin’s words- the world was inherently unfair, and it was unwise to be impolite when your face could be smacked consequence-free.

He would certainly act respectful and obedient. He was quite willing to do that. He wouldn’t take the first opportunity for revenge either. Nor the second. No, he’d wait until he could really stick the knife in, and he intended to be sure he only needed to do it once. He hadn’t often been smacked in the face, but he was prepared to say it brought out the worst in him.

A month passed, then a second. He changed to finding the hard in the soft arts. Instead of chopping the logs, he tried to sense where they were weakest, where the faults were, and struck with the edge of his hand. The difficulty wasn’t in breaking the log, it was in not ruining it. The pieces had to be of uniform size, after all. Dust and tiny lumps were not wanted. Tian had started saving the too-small bits of charcoal in a ring.

You never knew. It might be very useful one day.

A third month passed. Brother Wang sent a message. Cutting the stone and carving the bangles had taken considerably longer than expected, but it was done. He should come and inspect the goods.

Tian watched the plume of smoke turn from white to black, then went for a quick wash in the stream. Once he was presentable, he set off for the Wangs, an enormous load of firewood lashed to a wooden frame on his back. He got some odd looks walking through the Monastery. Some sneered, but most looked puzzled. He had a storage ring. Nobody needed firewood, especially if you had charcoal. So why?

Tian didn’t smile. They would get it soon enough. He had a feeling the Elders already did.

“Brother Tian, how is life in the woods?”

“Peaceful, Brother Wang, peaceful. I can feel my broke aura deepening every day.” Tian smiled and cupped his hands. The Wang Clan was out in full force, clearly eager to see what he thought of their hard work.

“To think you could find such a blessing doing such menial work! You really are the emblem of the younger generation.” Wang sighed happily, radiating an aura of benediction and support.

Sister Su “subtly” bodychecked Brother Wang, which Tian supposed must pass for a nudge in the Wang Clan. The big man laughed and rubbed the back of his head. “Lil’ Mei and Lil’ Yu really worked hard on this. The interior geometry of the stone… well, Lil’ Yu, you can explain it better than me.”

She brought her hand up to her mouth, fingers curled slightly, pinky barely resting against her lower lip as she tilted her head up and away to give Tian a truly impressive dose of condescension.

“OHhoooo hooo hooo! Before the awesome strength of Sister Mei and my own peerless abilities, it was too simple to merely diagram the internal structure of the stone. Not only was every twist and turn of the malachite identified, every nugget of azurite located and evaluated, we even analyzed the patterns on the stone… before it was ever cut! Can you imagine such brilliance, you rural vagrant? Brother Tian, I mean. Senior Brother Tian. I’m. I’m sorry. Please retract your killing intent.”

“This isn’t killing intent. I’m just very interested.”

“Right, yes. It’s not killing intent. Whatever you say.”

“My edge has been worn away by my solitary labors. I am humble, and humbled. I wish only to live peacefully with my sect siblings.”

Everyone’s head went up and down like chickens pecking rice.

“I am very eager to see what you made. Please, bring it out.” Tian calmed his breath, and tried to find his best smile. Mei came forward and opened a beautiful lacquered box.

Tian’s smile became completely genuine.

The bangles were three fingers wide, with a river scene carved on it. There was a tall woman in a wide hat polling a simple wooden boat, while a young man sat in the back, watching her and playing the flute. Overhead, a crane flew. But if it was just that, it would be far too simple for Ming Yu, finest carver in the Outer Court.

She didn’t just carve the malachite, she turned the ring patterns, those shelves of dark and light stone within the ore, into part of the carving itself. The Agate river got its name from the layers of colorful stone that lined it. She caught that beautifully. The river was traced along a darker band of stone within the malachite, seemingly born again in the green stone and flowing once more.

The sky was azurite, shading from almost purple to the deepest, most aching blue of a summer morning, the exact blue of the sky when the sun is fully risen but not yet at its peak. A sky full of vibrancy, over the green land below. It was life, and youth, and joy. It was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen made by human hands.

“It has been given a special treatment to improve its hardiness. It should turn a steel blade now, but don’t try to counter a real attack with it. It's not armor. Do try to avoid extreme changes in temperature, as the stone can crack.” Su was giving him useful information, Tian knew, but he barely heard her.

He was on the little fishing boat, bickering with Liren, pointing at a big fish or laughing at the crane’s antics. He could smell the river water, hear the creaking of the boat and the slap of the waves against the hull. Above all, he was in the sunshine, warmed by the one he was with.

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