Okay, Google, open my diary.

On Fan Shuangxi's lap, the page of the book ripples and all the information she has asked fade away. In its place is the comparison chart she made yesterday night with a number one figure on the upper edge of the page, haphazardly written, like a last minute addition.

After experimenting with Google last night, Fan Shuangxi discovered that unlike the words written by the book itself which vanishes as she closes it, what she writes stays on the page and is hidden at her will.

It is a handy feature and Fan Shuangxi does not hesitate to use it as her own diary to summarize her day. Yesterday was her first entry and also the first day she has landed on Qiuju continent so it will help her as well in keeping up with how many days she's been away from Shuixian Palace.

Fan Shuangxi summons a pen and starts to write that she left the caravan and sought after the Druid, whose name is Shen Qian, but forgot about him when she became fascinated with her body.

For a moment, I became a certified mad scientist, she adds. Come to think of it, if my body couldn't regenerate, wouldn't that mean I'd lose a hand?

Fan Shuangxi pauses at the horrifying truth and shudders. She proceeds to narrate how she fell asleep afterward and woke up to dazedly burn her hand.

She fills another paragraph describing her conversation with Shen Qian and reveals at the last line of her diary the status: Still in adjustment period 囧 ¹囧 = a facial expression showing embarrassment or gloom..

 

At the first sign of daybreak, Fan Shuangxi resumes her trek to the capital city. Shen Qian is not by her side most of the mornings, popping only at night to chat with her. Despite his absence in the majority of the journey, Fan Shuangxi knows he is accompanying her. His random chats also give light to the difference between a cultivator and a normal human. Even though every mortal has inherent energy, not all of them has the talent to gather and hone it but how to differentiate the two is where the difficulty lies.

Out of the five stages of the Path, the real measurement to be called a cultivator is when one breaks through the third stage; when the core or an empty spirit ocean is formed. The two stages before the third stage are considered as beginner stages and without talent, mortals can be stuck, in other words, encountering a bottleneck early on. Humans who cannot move from these stages may still fancy calling themselves cultivators but in reality, they are only a bit better than normal people; being a bit stronger, a bit healthier, a bit younger and this is what they are when scrutinized by cultivators of the fourth and fifth stages.

“Since a spirit ocean is only a collection of qi, then sensing qi is equal to sensing a spirit ocean, right? That's how a cultivator can sense a fellow cultivator, right? Since cultivators of the initial stages only use inherent energy and only when the core is established will they be able to sense qi,” Fan Shuangxi eagerly questions while they sit beside a winding river. The moon reflects on its clear surface and its light dyes their environment blue.

“Yes, only then will a fellow cultivator senses and acknowledges his fellow cultivator's existence.”

“Yosh! I get it now,” Fan Shuangxi tosses her head up and down. She has tried consulting Google about how to cultivate and true to its function, it revealed to her how step-by-step but Google didn't show the small nuances such as the differences between a mortal and a cultivator.

Then again, it may be your fault for not wording it right, her inner self blames.

Yeah, that too. Fan Shuangxi imagines herself looking sheepish while her inner self whacks her.

Besides, Shen Qian's here. He's a better conversation partner than Google, Fan Shuangxi defends.

Hmph! Just because he's beautiful! Her inner self reveals the root without any shame.

Er...I'm sorry for being a slave of beauty.

Fan Shuangxi focuses on Shen Qian once the topic about him began.

No fire dances between them this time. Fan Shuangxi does not need it and Shen Qian is a druid, a race Fan Shuangxi finds to be so in tune with the earth that they become the very water they manipulate.

Fan Shuangxi has asked Shen Qian once if he ever ate or slept and he told her that they do eat and sleep in a way that is totally theirs. She was still confused after his explanation so Shen Qian decided to show her how the druid sleeps.  The answer is their star-studded eyes open only during the day. The function of those eyes is just like how modern solar chargers work; their eyes absorb sunlight and the energy is used by their body during the day.

How do they eat? Well, turns out calling the druids 'nightmare eaters' isn't too far off the mark. Although it is not nightmares per se, it is the emotions that trigger them. Maybe, that is why Shen Qian is particularly sensitive when Fan Shuangxi is in a slump because...food.

Fan Shuangxi chuckles but then being reminded of food, her curving lips drop. Eating and resting have become foreign words after days of having no urge to do them. Fan Shuangxi can eat, that is a fact, with her supernal qi converting the products into additional qi and storing it, but it is a luxury, same with resting or sleeping, never a necessity.

Only after days of nonstop traveling will she remember she hasn't eaten but then shrugs it off to continue again. The times she gets to really eat or sleep is when Shen Qian insists on it which is why after his recent insistence, she is currently resting beside a river.

Shen Qian starts to stand. Fan Shuangxi blinks, following him with her eyes. “Where are you going?”

He turns his head parallel to the direction of the river. “There is a human town a mile away.”

Fan Shuangxi hums, “I know. It's the last town before we enter the city gate.”

“Are you going to eat?” She grasps her feet from her cross-legged position and rocks her body back and forth.

“Come.”

Fan Shuangxi pauses and bows her head, “I don't wanna.”

Shen Qian stares at her with his closed lids. “That's what you also said in the previous town.” In fact, out of the five towns they passed by, Fan Shuangxi only mingled at the first two.

“Uh-huh.”

He tilts his head. “You are avoiding human interactions.”

Fan Shuangxi's eyes dart to the side, “I'm not human, after all.” She grasps the golden bell on her left ear. Not only is she from a different world, but she also has an unusual body, making it impossible for her to even find a common interest with the natives. Rather than tire herself pretending to be engaged in their mundane life, Fan Shuangxi has decided to shift her energy to her own troubles.

The novelty of meeting new people wore off, ah, such is the wonder of curiosity. Everything seems so new and one of a kind but when curiosity wears off, she realizes, they aren't any different after all.

Shen Qian's eyebrow arches at the default response. “You clearly need human interactions or else you'll self-destruct.”

Fan Shuangxi huffs. “For your information, I'm an introvert, okay? That means I don't need external stimulation to be happy. In short, I don't need to talk and mingle with the crowd,” she explains further after witnessing Shen Qian's smooth forehead creasing.

“That may be so for you but I only believe what I see.”

“And what do you see, hm?” Fan Shuangxi lifts her chin.

Shen Qian's mouth tilts downward, “an ugly color. Unstable, impure.”

His expression is restless. “Such darkness,” he whispers.

Fan Shuangxi rolls her eyes and she stands with her hands on her hips. “Don't exaggerate. I'm fine.” Just a little stressed but she'll recover in no time. Fan Shuangxi's in the process of adapting, that's all. See? She's still optimistic. Darkness, her butt!

“Then, we shall leave.”

“Did you even hear me?”

“To the village.” Shen Qian's body disappears.

“As if you can force me, Druid,” Fan Shuangxi utters under her breath. She briskly walks in the opposite direction.

However, before she can walk further, water from the river bursts out and swallows her entire body, dragging her deep and propelling her forward.

What the fuck? She shrieks inside.

Everything happens in a whirlwind that Fan Shuangxi can't counterattack or even think of one. She zigzags in the current and is blown to the surface after arriving at the unwanted destination.

Her head breaks to the surface with glazed eyes. The river may have spewed her body from its swift depths but it forgot to bring her brain along with her. Oh, it's here now.

Strings of expletives roll giddily in her mind while her whole body floats. Fan Shuangxi imagines Shen Qian dying in countless creative ways but she stops short. How do you kill a druid, anyway? Do they have blood? They are synonymous with water so maybe boiling them will do?

I wonder, will a steaming Shen Qian still look hot? Hmm, steam is literally hot so, technically he'll be hot--

Er, let's just focus on important things. Fan Shuangxi shakes her head and rolls to the side, trying to find a foothold on the fluid surface.

Plop! Plop! Aish, anyone seeing her swinging her foot up and down will think she's crazy. Her inner self laughs wildly.

This is embarrassing, Fan Shuangxi thinks. Where are my ninja moves when I need them? She raises a foot and attempts to stomp on the surface only for water to splash her already wet face. Maybe, try it softly? She recalls the feeling of standing on a solid surface; similar to riding a flat escalator except the direction is all over the place. Fan Shuangxi focuses her attention to her feet while conjuring the image in her mind. It takes her three delicate trials to balance her foot on the water and another two to get her other foot up. Her feet are steady and firm as she pulls her body to a standing position.

She is wet from top to toe but only after she scrutinizes her form does the shiver commences.

Fan Shuangxi spots two tall columns in the distance with stairs leading to the river bank. Past the columns are the glow of warm lights, signaling an ongoing activity in the middle of the night. Jubilation pervades as she nears the steps causing her to stop. She glances up to the tall stairway and hesitates.

When laughter trickles down from the town, she winces, the sound grating to her ears.

“Today is Ji country's Eve of Freedom,” Shen Qian informs. He materializes five steps away from her.

Fan Shuangxi crosses her arms with a scowl. “So, here you are. Finally got the guts to show yourself, eh?”

He ignores her tone and waves a hand. Fan Shuangxi's clothes immediately dry up while she doesn't bat an eye at the sudden change. By this time, she has already mastered the art of not caring, also known as being numb, in order to take whatever the universe throws at her in stride because if she doesn't, Fan Shuangxi will go insane with disbelief.

“So, why are we here? What's so special about this Independence Day?”

Shen Qian's eyebrows furrow at Fan Shuangxi's choice of words. “The celebration for the Eve of Freedom begins at the first hour of the day and ends at the last hour of the day. We are approaching the last hour.”

“And?”

Shen Qian doesn't speak further.

“That's it? Why am I here then? To celebrate?”

He glances behind his shoulder, “Yes.” Fan Shuangxi pinches the bridge of her nose as he vanishes.

Her shoulders slumping and her feet dragging, Fan Shuangxi enters the energetic town. She fiddles her right ear while avoiding moving obstacles, otherwise known as rowdy children, on the wide road. The set-up of their celebration almost resembles Japan's cultural festival with various booths on either side selling an assortment of services ranging from food to games. Further ahead is a giant tent with a circular stage hosting performances that will last until the toll of a new day rings.

She stops at the tent's entrance, specifically on a corner far from the crowd's flow. Fan Shuangxi hears the steady beating of a drum as the current performer, a storyteller, narrates the history of the celebration.

Everything starts to mix. The chaos of moving feet, the shouts of vendors, the noise of the tent.

Fan Shuangxi rubs her eyes and hugs an arm. She sighs, bowing her head, and closing her eyes. Her world darkens and the plethora of voices disappear...for a moment.

“Did he run away?”

“Yes. I can't sense my needle in the vicinity, either he's found out about the needle or he's already out of the town. The first option is unlikely as my needle is well hidden and too small to be detected even with his rank. I suspect he is heading to the capital.”

“Hmph, it doesn't matter. We can still track him wherever he goes.”

Fan Shuangxi blinks and winces from the blinding lamps. Just like that, the rushing noise returns. It mixes with the pair of voices that has invaded her rest, drowning them in an ocean of cacophony. All around her are unfamiliar attires of robes and coats, speaking the language she understands but can't remember ever learning. It leaves a sharp ache between her eyes, making her grit her teeth to alleviate the pain.

The crowd claps inside the tent as the storyteller bows when he ends his storytelling. Another set of performers enter the stage to dance an intermission number before another storyteller comes up.

This time, Fan Shuangxi enters the tent and sits on the outermost bench. People come and go all the time so it isn't crowded as one will expect. Children lounge on the front benches with no sign of sleepiness even though it is deep into the night. Then again, being entertained continuously can keep the boredom away.

She focuses on the female dancer on stage. She shows off her arms and feet with blue teardrop-shaped gems on her palms and bridges of her feet. She is bowing her head, her hair up while the lower half of her face is covered with a gauzy veil.

Her attire is reminiscent of the get-up in belly dancing but instead of revealing skin, she dresses in a flowy robe that has slits on both sides, her legs bare except for gossamer pants that balloon on her ankles.

The rapid patters of a drum signal the beginning of her performance.

The woman raises her head and her veil moves, her voice booming as she sings.

 

Sweet melody hiding the pain within

My dearest, this is only temporary

 

The high shrill of a flute follows and descends in bursts as the female claps her hands overhead. A circle of water gathers and floats at the tip of her hands as she shimmies her hips with the beating drums. The music reminds Fan Shuangxi of the Middle East.

Fan Shuangxi is enraptured by the water as the dancer dances with her arms shaking and her body movement undulating like the water she manipulates on stage. It provides a distraction to the somewhat seductive dance to the young children as they gape at the droplets of water suspended in the air, disturbed only by the woman's elegant gestures.

 

Know thyself and know thy truth

That my dear, a journey is afoot

Sing the past, the present, and the future

For thou misses my arms, my love accompanies you

 

The song accompanies her quick movements, the tone jovial and with strength even though the message calls for a soft melody. No one seems to care, especially Fan Shuangxi. She hears the passage and understands it but this is fleeting, her eyes doing more of the work than her ears.

Woah, so pretty! She exclaims inwardly.

The woman sweeps her arms in front of her to circle on her head with a thrust of her hips. The water gathers around her, following the command of her twists and turns until she is sparkling from the floating droplets.

 

Thy beating life of a beloved

Shall be the guide in the darkness

Do not fear, oh love

A sacrifice is nothing

To fulfill the longing of the heart

 

Fan Shuangxi can't remember how the performance ended. The clear fluid's swooshing as it returns to the ball it first morphed into are overtaking her mind rather than the humble bow of the dancer, and the applause she receives from the crowd.

The woman leaves the stage and is replaced by an old man. His storytelling is drowned by the millions of questions popping in Fan Shuangxi's head so, she exits the tent to search for a less populated place to summon Google.

From what she grasps before being enchanted by the dancing water, Fan Shuangxi has sensed that the dancer is a beginner cultivator, standing on the precipice of the second stage and hasn't attained the third stage yet. Her spirit ocean is barely formed but the inherent energy is dense enough for Fan Shuangxi to conclude that the dancer is cultivating. Under normal circumstances, a normal cultivator would be hard-pressed to sense this but Fan Shuangxi's cultivation is different. How she sense things is different than the norm.

The stage where a cultivator is able to manipulate any of their aptitude elements is when the person enters the third stage because manipulation of any kind requires qi and qi is only attained through breathing the primal airs. Even then, mastery of the manipulation is achieved after standing on the fourth stage.

The unusual thing is, the dancer easily manipulates water, how is this possible?

Unless, Fan Shuangxi reads the answer Google supplies, there is an existence of an external help such as objects engraved with runes that give them purpose.

She recalls the dancer's attire and notes the gems on her hands and feet. Fan Shuangxi reads further that runes are drawn with the qi gathered through an infernal breath by rune masters, one of the five classes made available to cultivators once they enter the third stage.

The reason why the dancer is able to manipulate the water well is probably due to the gems with hidden runes that summons water and commands said element to follow the gems movements, Fan Shuangxi presumes.

“That's amazing,” she mutters as Google disappears. The fact that cultivation is also being applied this way rather than on sole fighting is a commendable achievement. That also means that cultivation is as much a part of these people's lives just like how technology is in the modern era.

How do they use their cultivation for everyday use? Fan Shuangxi's curious mind comes to life. What kind of milestones have these people reached using the techniques and arts the cultivators learned?

Her mind wanders to the five classes. Rune masters are, as explained, draw runes to project their purpose and it can vary in many ways as long as the rune master has the power to make the runes' purpose come to life. In a way, it is a latent art, activating only when prodded. The other classes are weaponsmiths, beast tamers, elementalists, and alchemists.

Weaponsmiths' source of qi is also the same with rune masters, employing the infernal breath in forging weapons. Both classes are ideal for cultivators wanting to practice the Demonic Arts. In contrast, beast tamers and elementalist are classes using the qi from supernal breathing and the classes taken when the Divine Arts is the goal.

Meanwhile, the class straddling the line between the usage of the two primal airs is alchemists, the most difficult class that equates to the modern world's pharmacists. And just like the modern era, these five classes also has subclasses or specializations to put simply.

“Hmm, what is her class?” Fan Shuangxi refers to the original owner's class when she asks out loud. Since she is practicing the Divine Arts then it is either she took beast taming or elemental casting.

Fan Shuangxi rummages her memory. Beast tamers is a class focusing on catching and taming animals but not just any animal. This class tames and summons spirit beasts, animals with high intelligence and special constitution that can be used as mounts in battles, guard animals or any position they are needed. Beast tamers use them as personal property or auctions them off to sky high prices.

Elementalists, on the other hand, is a class that controls the five elements: water, wood, fire, earth, metal and its combinations. However, elementalists can only control, they cannot create out of nothing and cannot destroy some thing. A class that is sensitive to the elements' mood, therefore, they are usually employed in forecasting the weather. This is the original Fan Shuangxi's class.

She bites her lower lip while rubbing her chin. She spots a twig and reaches for it, wanting to experiment a little.

Elementalists can only make do with what they have and as long as the element is present and its quantity sufficient, they can either bring calamities or blessings. Like pulling along the rain or delaying a thunderstorm.

The twig in Fan Shuangxi's hand is dry, an ideal fuel. The oxygen is in the air while the last factor of the fire triangle she needs is heat or a spark. Shall she use friction, then?

Fan Shuangxi rapidly rubs both palms on the twig. It's not the right way of doing any friction-based fire but she's going to regenerate anyway so, Fan Shuangxi shrugs, at least she can make fire, right?

She senses the growing heat and can almost smell her skin burning, again. Her excitement heightens but unexpectedly, the twig breaks.

“What the?” Fan Shuangxi gapes.

The objective of the test is to determine if she can control fire. In order for the controlling to happen, a fire must be present. Unfortunately, the creating phase is not participating with her. Bummer.

She stares at her failed experiment, rationalizing that it can't handle her rough handling. 

How fragile! Fan Shuangxi pouts, her hands falling limply by her side, her palms gradually healing from the broken patches of skin.

Fan Shuangxi doesn't give up and surveys her surrounding to continue her experiment. Her downturned lips deepen when all she collects are wet branches and small twigs. She scuttles from one area to another in search of a material 'just right' for her harmless test.

In her wandering, she passes a group of trailers likely the troupe responsible for this night's performance. Fan Shuangxi doesn't stay long in their midst but as she glances away, she hears raised voices.

“You only have one job. One job! And you ruined it!”

“Meng-jie²The 'jie' means older sister. It's akin to the Japanese '-san' or '-senpai' but used specifically for one's older sister or an older female one is close to, I apologize. I promise I'll fix it.”

“Tsk, no need. Just, scram.”

The bush near Fan Shuangxi rustles. A willowy woman rushes out wearing a tattered but clean robe. The woman is bowing her head and bumps into Fan Shuangxi. The woman staggers and lifts her small head.

The first thing Fan Shuangxi notices is a hauntingly beautiful accessory on her neck--no, it is not an accessory, it's a scar. A thin scar encircling her neck like a thin wire was embedded on the fragile, creamy skin for days that after it has been removed, the mark stayed.

The woman tugs her collar in an attempt to hide it but the curve of the collar only hides the back while the front remains gloriously unhidden.

Fan Shuangxi's gaze skitters to the woman's face and stiffens, regret instantly flooding in. The woman bows and covers her face with her long black hair but Fan Shuangxi can't unsee what she had seen and the hairs on her skin stand as her fingers turn cold.

The woman mumbles an apology and runs away.

“Meng-jie, why do you tolerate that ugly woman? She's not capable in serving you, she breaks more clothes than fixing them and her only satisfying trait is her shameless groveling but I can't stomach even that for long especially when I see her scarred face. Ugh.”

“Hmph, I'm only repaying her for saving me long ago. If not for that, I would have thrown her out the moment her beaten body fainted in front of me.”

What a cruel woman, Fan Shuangxi's eyes droop. This is the kind of reality she is in; unforgiving, merciless. The strong triumphs over the weak and thus, they are respected and worshipped.

A whistle fills the air then the sky lights up.

Boom!

Fireworks? Fan Shuangxi blinks and watches the show in rapture. She hears cheers in the distance and smiles. She turns her back and retraces her steps to the river. The sparkling shower of myriad colors illuminates her lonely form while her front is heavily shadowed as she is swallowed by the foliage.

The Ji country's celebration of their freedom has ended.