When outsiders thought of the Misty Lake, they often imagined something much different than Xianghua’s home. They imagined a mirror shrouded by mists, something deep and clear. A haunting, ethereal place.

In truth, the Misty Lake was a swamp. In fact, the only reason why anybody really called it a lake at all was history. It was the oldest name for the place.

Perhaps, at one point far in the past, the name had been accurate. Now, the Misty Lake, covered by its perpetual fog, was choked by fast-growing reeds. They grew so fast the landscape was different from one month to the next as plants took over the waters. The only reason why the lake hadn’t been choked out completely was the mortals’ tireless work, plying the waterways on their floating reed towns, and the work of the Keelbreakers. The massive, herbivorous fish tore open new paths and consumed vast quantities of reeds, constantly shearing away with their scissor-like jaws. They were one of the most important creatures in the Misty Lake… though they did have an unfortunate habit of biting the birch-bark canoes that were the most common form of transport. Such testing bites broke the keel and sent the vessels to the bottom of the lake— if the fish didn’t just swallow it whole.

They normally spat out the occupant unless the Keelbreaker was a female in the breeding season, but only fools went to the Breakergrounds at that time of year.

Today, Xianghua was near the northern edges of the lake, and doing what was hopefully the last thing she had to accomplish before she went north.

An emergency, called in by the mortals.

“Biwei, Shuhe, Taiyou, take the little ones,” she commanded as she launched herself forwards.

“Yes, Young Mistress!” they barked, erupting into motion. They took slower, surer routes.

Xianghua landed on a giant lilypad. It was as wide around as a feasting table, with thorns on its underside. It dipped down then sprang back up, aiding in her leap towards her foe.

A red tendril covered in protrusions and sticky glue slammed down a moment later, smashing the lilypad and curling around it. The Carnivine spasmed as it missed her. Its trap leaves snapped like jaws and its digestion pitchers swayed, releasing the putrid stench of rotting flesh. It was nearly as tall as a palace, stretched out in agitation.

However, for an initiate of the Fourth Stage, no, for Liu Xianghua, it was a mere distraction. Her juniors shouted battle cries as they engaged the smaller monsters.

The building-sized monster threw itself at her.

Xianghua took a small breath. She reached around to the contraption on her back, its dull red vents prepared.

[Breath of Steam, First Form: Heron’s Beak]

Her sword, Shadowed Intent, flashed. The wall of vegetation in front of her parted, sap sprayed out in gouts away from her. The main tendril’s trap leaf snapped as if confused before it fell to the side, severed.

Yet it would be the mistake of a fool to think it was dead. Like a heron’s beak, her blade speared down into the Spirit Plant’s roots.

The entire mass of vegetation shuddered. Three more times she thrusted, and three more times the plant spasmed.

The entire thing slumped, its life spent, and Xianghua rose, standing on its floating corpse. She absently noted the cheers of the watching mortals nearby as her juniors finished off the smaller Carnivines. Taking them out on excursions like this allowed them to gain valuable combat experience.

She watched them with a practised eye, noting with some pleasure they had taken her lessons to heart.

They were all getting better. Learning, growing. When she had put out the call to arms, they had joined her instantly, ready and willing to defend the mortals of the lake.

It was strange how some things remained. Her father’s first lessons on defending the innocent and the mortals stuck fast.

She had been thinking of him a lot these days. Unfortunate that he invaded her thoughts, but not all her memories of him were horrible. His lessons had once been something she looked forward to.

A tiny part of her still loved the man he once was, but it was a child's love for a father. It had withered with the years, turning into a faded memory. Her father, as far as she was concerned, was irrelevant now. Gone and too far away to care about.

With a single jump, Xianghua landed on the main platform. The other disciples, finished with their quarries, landed behind her. The mortals there all dropped to their knees.

“My Lady, we humble men thank you for your swift response,” the oldest of the lot said, his head dipped low. Hu Yutong, one of the respected Lakemen, his family had served loyally for generations. It was through his hands that most of the information on the wider Misty Lake reached Xianghua.

He was a useful mortal. She even did him the honour of learning his face properly, which was an annoying task that took hours of careful observation.

Xianghua nodded as she looked over the floating platform. There were several pavise shields and a large siege bow. Its bolts were dipped in a potent toxin. The mortals had been prepared for battle. They would have come to fight, even if nobody had responded. This close after the tournament the request for support might not have been given as much consideration, and there may have been a delay. Liu Xianghua did not delay.

There were few duties she allowed herself to be wholly chained by. Rendering aid to the mortals was one of them. She respected the ancient pact between the lakemen and the Sect. She knew the struggles of her younger brother. She had seen the numbers he had shown her of mortal casualty rates against such monsters.

Abandoning people who didn’t deserve it never sat right with her. Not even when she obeyed every other order her father had given her. So even though she craved to leave, to venture north to see her brother, she did this.

She was no Cai Xiulan, a true hero to the weak. She just wanted to live a life without regrets. She would regret it if inaction brought these loyal people to ruin, so she acted.

“Your men slack, old man. How dare they be so inattentive?” she demanded instead. A Carnivine with spawn? This far into the Lake? Any further and villages would start going missing.

Unacceptable. She’d personally see to the punishments of any scouts that let a Carnivine get this big. It was eating Keelbreakers!

The mortal bowed deeper, his face hidden by his large hat. “I understand your outrage, Young Mistress, but this one came from the Deep Fenns. It is only through the valourous action of one man that we had any warning at all.”

Xianghua paused. If it was from the Deep Fenns it couldn’t be helped. With most of the Sect’s strength gone at the Dueling Peaks Tournament…

“I see. Beiwei!” she called, turning to the disciple who had killed one of the spawn the fastest. The young man straightened up. He had performed acceptably in the tournament as well. “I give you a duty. Scour the Deep Fenns. I shall allow you alone this merit—or you may bring several others to claim this merit alongside you.”

It was something the Elders had counseled her to offer, years ago. A chance for one to distinguish themselves in the eyes of the Sect…. or shoulder all the failure.

“Yes, Young Mistress!” Beiwei responded immediately and glanced at his fellows. He at least had some sense. Searching the Deep Fenns alone was spectacularly stupid. They nodded. A week to prepare and then they would be in the Deep Fenns, breathing through bags of poison-nullifying reeds. Xianghua did not envy them— but they likely would not find anything. A necessary precaution though. The Carnivine had probably eaten everything in there, but better to be careful. Xianghua turned back to Yutong. “Bring out this valorous man.” Yutong’s head bowed and he waved another boy forwards.

He had bandages around his middle, looking like they still hadn’t fully healed. He was obviously in pain, yet made to bow anyway. She raised a hand, stopping him.

“My Lady,” he said simply.

“I praise you, Son of the Mist,” she declared. “You shall be well rewarded for your valour in finding this Carnivine and reporting it swiftly. However! I shall hear no more foolishness of a mortal venturing into the Deep Fenns. Why were you there in the first place?”

Medicinal plants, perhaps? There were a few that grew there. If a family member was ill she would see them given medicine—

The young man flushed. “The butterfly flowers, Young Mistress,” he said.

Xianghua stared at the young man blankly. The beautiful flowers had no value other than their looks. She squinted at his face. Blushing… bashfulness?

“Lovestruck fool,” she stated to the man bluntly. “You went there for butterfly flowers? There is valour, and then there is rank stupidity!” She erupted, looming at the smaller Lakeman. Yutong chuckled, expecting one of her tirades. Fools needed to be disciplined, after all.

There were tales still going around of the time when she had forced a man thrity years her senior to put a ricebowl on his head and proclaim himself a “bowl of stupid” after she had had to rescue him from the Breakergrounds.

It was nice to be remembered for your deeds. Even now, people were starting to spread the tale of Bowu, and the battle with the Steam Furnace.

Xianghua didn’t know if she would ever attain immortality of the body and soul. She was of the Azure Hills and strived all she liked, but her odds were low.

Yet there was another kind of immortality, wasn’t there? A name that echoes for a thousand years could be close enough.

The boy swallowed thickly. Xainghua glared at him… and then sighed. After all, she had fought against the Shrouded Mountain Sect out of love, arguably stupider than going into the Deep Fenns for pretty flowers.

Liu Xianghua was not a hypocrite.

“Beiwei!”

“Yes, Young Mistress!”

“Retrieve some butterfly flowers as well.”

“Yes, Young Mistress!”

The boy’s eyes widened.

“Now, go, attend to your duties.” The men nodded, getting their tools ready to begin cutting up the remains of the Spirit Plant. Only she and Yutong stayed on the main platform.

“I shall be gone for a while, Yutong,” she said, her voice empty of its usual bombastic tone. The servant deserved at least that much. The old man nodded, bowing low.

“Thank you, as always, Young Mistress. May the heavens watch over you in your travels.” Respect is his eyes and beneath them an honest concern.

She nodded and set off, glancing behind her one last time. Xiulan had spoken of peace. The laughing mortals weren’t bad, she supposed.

==============================

The Misty Lake Sect itself was more like what one thought of when they heard “Misty Lake”. Surrounded by green, the main compoud’s waters were completely pure and clear of any influence.

Yet the mist here always seemed a bit dreary to Xianghua.

The Elders had been in a fit ever since the tournament. It had honestly been amusing, watching them speak with such agitation. Them stripping her father of his power over the revelation of Bowu’s ability had certainly been an upheaval. Master Jin taking her brother with him was something else. In one swoop they had immediately lost the thing that they had valued enough to usurp their own sectmaster.

“Will he even allow Bowu to return?” was the common question, and through it all Elder Bingwen urged calm.

“What use has one so powerful for such a thing?” he would reply, but even Xianghua could tell he was beginning to get unsettled. Especially now that she too would be leaving.

It was amusing. Xianghua didn’t particularly care if her brother came back. She would love to have him at her side, but while she had good memories of the sect—training and growing stronger, the duties and the festivals that she felt fulfillment in—she did not doubt that most of his were bitter at best.

He may have enjoyed her company, sneaking out with her on adventures, but she knew the bitter life he led beneath the sect’s vaunted benevolence. Few had lifted a hand to help him. If he wanted to leave this place forever beside Master Jin, she would kiss his forehead and send him on his way.

Or he could come back. Come back and force all who previously scorned him to honor him for a bit of his favor. Xianghua chuckled at the thought.

Her little brother had a streak of vindictiveness. He probably wanted to jump all over father’s bed and walk around the Sect openly. Perhaps even visit mother, just to see the look on her face.

That would be quite fun.

Xianghua shook her head and continued on. She was packed and ready to leave. There was just one last task to attend to.

Elder Bingwen was in Bowu’s shack. It was a common occurrence nowadays, ever since she had first taken the Elders there.

The way their eyes widened on seeing the diagrams and notes pinned to the walls, showing his easy comprehension of the mysteries of the Ancestors, along with his tools and his prototype Steam Furnaces.

Elder Bingwen had decreed it the most heinous waste of talent the Sect had ever seen. Another, Elder Huen, who had been annoyed at her father’s ousting, had simply looked at a page for a full five minutes before going off to train, his gaze troubled.

They had left the shack how it was. They said it was just in case Bowu had put them in these positions for a reason, and when he returned everything would be moved into grander quarters.

Elder Bingwen was seated at the forge, his eyes locked on a spinning pinwheel, occasionally looking at the notes tacked to the walls. Bowu’s insight was apparently of greater value than she had even thought, so much so that the Elders looked at her brother’s musings on old techniques.

“Elder.” The man turned to her. Elder Bingwen had a kind of melancholy look in his eyes. The older man had been responsible for a good portion of her training. It was he who had caught her visiting Bowu more than once, and had turned a blind eye to her activities.

She could admit that she liked him, in a way. He was ambitious but honorable. Ambition had led him to his current place as leader of the sect, honour helped him keep it. He had never used his station as an excuse to denigrate her, inviting her to every meeting and had not once tried to advance his own daughter before Xianghua.

He seemed content to be a steward. Xainghua was in his eyes still the heir of the Sect.

“Xianghua. You are leaving soon, I take it,” he stated, nodding to her as she grabbed some of the pinwheels, looking over the room for anything else she could bring.

“Yes, I am.”

Elder Bingwen observed her and sighed.

“There is some concern you will not return.” Elder Bingwen stated mildly as she packed.

Xainghua paused at the statement. Things were truly dire if he was willing to discuss their concerns with her. .

She had considered it once, long ago. To simply grab Bowu and run to some far off place.

Her brother had been the one that had refused her. He had said that she would have trouble cultivating. That he would rather deal with petty indignities than have his sister live her life solely for his sake.

She had a goal. Strength. Enough to wash away the stain their father put on the family name. She’d wanted the power in part so that when she ascended to head the sect she could reinstate Bowu… but her brother had accomplished that all on his own. She was proud of him. But it left her without a firm path for the future.

So.. what did she want to do?

“I will return. I can't promise when, but I will return to the Sect. This place, for all its memories, is home. A home I intend to fix.”

Besides, Cai Xiulan’s plan of closer cooperation between the different Sects was a good one. How kind was Xianghua, to make her job easier?

“Ah, I may have a husband when I come back,” she said, remembering.

Elder Bingwen sighed. “I wish you luck, Young Mistress.”

Xianghua paused. Her father would have thrown a fit at her words. Elder Bingwen simply raised an eyebrow.

“That was easier than I thought it would be,” she said. She expected a token effort to ask who it was at least.

“I am not so foolish as to give an order that you will not obey. Besides, this Gou Ren appears to be a fine match, connected to Master Jin.”

Right, there was the politics. Then again, she hadn’t exactly been subtle about what she had gotten up to with Gou Ren.

She raised an eyebrow at the man.

“Generous.”

“You make more friends with wine than you do with vinegar. Your father was too involved. He could not see the larger picture,” he stated, waving her away.

“I shall send a letter back, when I get there,” she said, and the man nodded.

“Young Mistress.” He bowed.

“Elder Bingwen,” she returned with respect.

And then, with no small amount of eagerness, she was dashing north.

==========================

There were no interruptions or halts on her journey. She ran unabated through the town of Verdant Hill, a quaint thing, one of the quaintest she had seen, and along a good road.

Halfway to the village she started to get nervous, wondering if just showing up was the right choice.

She did like Gou Ren. He was handsome and had courage. He was kind, and he was generous. He was a good man, who had helped her brother without hesitation. Did she want to marry him? Perhaps. Probably?

She wanted to kiss him again, at least. And perhaps have another night.

She swallowed thickly and pressed forwards.

Forwards, to live a life without regret.

“Please! Allow me to court your son!” she asked.

The shocked silence was long… But then the woman, who looked quite a lot like Yun Ren, but had Gou Ren’s amber eyes, smiled at her tentatively.

“Well, howboutccha tell us about what you and my little man got up to, yeah?” she asked with a thick accent.

==============================

It was strange, this village. She could not say the people here were disrespectful, but she was rather used to most mortals bowing.

Instead, they were quite a bit bolder, especially after Yun Ren had greeted her. Things were much livelier after that. They reminded her of home, really.

The mortals who lived in their floating reed towns and plied the waterways courted death often, traveling through the swirling mists.

And yet, despite their hard life, they were always chipper and cheerful, in stark contrast to the overcast sky.

The people here were similar. Their lives were hard, but they made their best of it. Trying and striving.

It was admirable, in her opinion. Like how her brother had struggled and struggled, never giving up.

Indeed, she made fast friends with the son of the village chief. He brought a vast collection of beetles to her when she was meditating in the morning.

Fine specimens! Though he held them quite close to her face. When she opened her eyes she could see all the little details of the carapace.

Ten Ren and Hu Li… She saw what she remembered of her own parents in them, before they found out about Bowu. It was their smiles. The fond anecdotes.

The fact that they had, and still, cared.

Hu Li has said it was custom to brush Xianghua’s hair in the mornings, and dress her up in the interesting clothes of her tribe.

Ten Ren said it was custom to listen quietly in the evening, after asking her what her life had been like.

Both said it was custom that she should be hugged before going to sleep. Most strange, but not objectionable customs.

Xianghua studied their faces diligently, and within the week had managed to figure them out acceptably.

Enough to know that they found the way she talked amusing. Enough to know she was fairly certain they liked her.

======================

When she saw her brother again, she had little idea what to expect.

Yet when they were here, all of her worries faded.

She saw her brother again. He was being helped out of the cart by Gou Ren, who ruffled his hair with a smile. She knew exactly how much her brother limped. The drag on his knee.

He was walking without wincing. He could practically run.

He called the blacksmith Uncle Che, looking to him like he was the mortal’s own son. Looking for his approval.

Her normally surly brother had one of the brightest grins she had ever seen on his face. Not the satisfied smirk… but the grin she remembered from her childhood.

She was just so happy that she ended up smiling too, instead of having to actively think to force her face to make expressions.

Then she turned her eyes to Gou Ren. The man saw her and his jaw dropped. His breath quickened. He flushed high on his cheeks.

Xiulan… looked at peace. Her friend radiated a kind of quiet strength that was impossible to ignore. The damage that had been done to her cultivation had not affected her. Instead, she greeted Xianghua. Tigu and Ri Zu, as well, shouted their greetings.

And finally, she met the two responsible for her brother’s health and her friend's life.

Any tension that was left faded away.

“Lady Meiling! Master Jin!” she boomed, as boisterously as she could.

=================

“And I was having lots of trouble with the shape, and figuring out how to join the pieces together. I had made some of the parts too thin,” Bowu grumbled, looking petulant. Xianghua let out a little chuckle, rather than a bombastic laugh. She combed her fingers through his brother’s hair, looking down onto him and his head in her lap.

“Oh? And then what happened?” she said in a quiet voice.

“Well, Wa Shi suggested that we just make them into woks instead,” Bowu admitted. “Its… kinda bad, and there's lots more I can do to improve, but they still use it. Master Jin even said it was his favorite pair.”

There was no missing the note of pride.

Xianghua smiled. “What else?” she asked. She glanced up, as Honoured Mother Hu Li poked her head into the room. Her eyes asked if they needed anything.

Xianghua shook her head gently.

Honoured Mother Hu Li nodded, then gave her a grin and a wink.

Xianghua nodded, ready to accept the mission.

Bowu finally finished thinking. “Oh, Xian showed me a really cool place, with really soft grass. It’a his secret spot, and I can’t tell you exactly where it is, but its nice. He taught me how to bug fight as well. That was awesome. I think I would have won If I had a Twinhorn from the southside. Those would be good at beetlefighting…”

The night carried on and she listened to her brother’s excited words as he spoke of the village and of everything Lady Meiling was teaching him about his leg. He talked until he fell asleep.

Then she rose, her eyes forwards.

Honoured Mother Hu Li handed her the rope and grinned at her.

That night she had a reunion of a different sort.

But one no less enjoyable.