Master Shu didn't let the silence linger too long, this time. Instead his jaw worked, trying to come up with something else to say.
"Explain this Jin clan situation," he ordered. "How bad is it?"
Wu Hao opened his mouth, ready to begin, and then reconsidered what he was actually going to say. What was he going to reveal, how much did he actually want to share?
"Almost a year ago," he began, "I was a porter for the Golden Lotus company, delivering some cargo to the Jin clan..."
He went through the entirety of his life story so far. The encounter with the bandits, where he downplayed his own role but did admit to having eaten at least one of the qi-infused peaches on purpose. From there he left out the entire theft from the library and everything that had followed from it, instead just glossing over how he had managed to cultivate his way to third-grade. If the master got the impression that he'd only become a third-grade recently, all the better, he supposed.
What he did mention was the entire dismal trip to the mines. He told a story that mixed little bits and pieces of the various attempts, trying to not get lost himself in what had happened and when, though he did mention cutting the sky. That, at least, was an achievement that he still felt proud of, even if in this version he'd simply unleashed it to kill an already-wounded second-stage martial artist instead of taking on two at the same time.
That was followed, of course, by the trek through the woods. The meeting with Wei Mingke he skipped over as little more than a footnote. Being involved with the Beggar's Union, the entire adventure with the crown, and then finally how he had gotten brought into the array master's mansion.
Then he waited.
When Wu Hao had slipped out of the mansion during the half year that he'd spent with Wang Bin, he'd occasionally found men who made some sort of living telling stories at inns and pubs and the like. They had had voices suited for their craft, had well-rehearsed stories that made the imagination soar, and they also had an audience.
Master Shu wasn't like that audience in the slightest. He didn't ooh or ah, he didn't react much at all, and he sat there in silence the entire time. When Tai Buzhou returned to the stage to announce the start of the first-grade matches, master Shu waved a hand and cut off all external sound from that direction with a quick flare of qi that made its way up to the arrays already inscribed on the balustrade and left new arrays there.
And when Wu Hao was finished and had to take a long sip of water for his sore throat, master Shu finally stirred. He didn't ask any questions, though.
"You know, this is good," the master mused. "Here I was, thinking you had no friends at all. Having one is then technically an improvement. Congratulations."
Wu Hao felt heat creep up to his cheeks and his insides twist.
"Shut up," he mumbled.
Master Shu only snorted. With another flick of his hands, he motioned at Wu Hao, who ducked immediately, wary of another pillar smacking him over the head. There was the groan of wood and no pain. Wu Hao rose to his feet, grinning, only for a stinging pain to spread across his feet when a plank pulled itself out of the floor and cracked down on his toes.
"Ow," he hissed, and glared at master Shu.
"Show some respect," master Shu said. His heart didn't seem to be quite in it, though. Another finger flick undid the modifications to the array and Tai Buzhou's final words abruptly echoed through the arena, the cheer of the crowd rushing in afterwards like an almost physical wall.
"Anyway, it's not as bad as I thought," master Shu said, drawing back his fingers. "Something like this is vastly more minor than that Jin whelp made it sound. We'll go talk to them anyway, when we're on the road."
Wu Hao frowned.
"Wait," he said. "What do you mean, on the road?"
Master Shu shrugged. "It's a part of the ceremony of becoming a Sovereign. You're expected to travel. To the sects of friends that supported you. To the sites of the previous war with the Demon Cult, to show due reverence to those who died in the service of the alliance, though by and large those are the same, for me."
"But -"
"Yes," master Shu said. "You are my one and only disciple. You are, in fact, required to be present. It is an immense honor, so be grateful, you brat. Even if you're not coming along voluntarily, you're still coming along."
"But... how long will that take?" Wu Hao asked, feeling devastated.
"At least a year," master Shu said. "More, perhaps, if we're held up."
"What?" Wu Hao sputtered. "A year? I don't have that sort of time."
Master Shu squinted at him. "No?"
"No," Wu Hao insisted, though he knew that he'd messed up. "I - I'm in the best period for growing my martial arts right now. I don't have the time to go just rambling around every province talking to some random peasants. The sheer amount of time that I'll lose compared to the others..."
"Boy," master Shu said slowly. "Do you know the four elements that are required for a martial artist to grow?"
"What? What's that got to do with anything?"
"The four basics are as follows: wealth, land, companions, and technique. You clearly do not have wealth, while I do. You do not have land, you have a room I lend you in my opulent mansion. You do not have companions, while I maintain friendly relations with at least most of the major sects."
The master rubbed his beard. "You do have technique," he allowed. "For the third-grade, that is. Unless you've had a truly miraculous opportunity, you do not have a higher-tier cultivation technique. I do."
"And?"
"And I will give you the foundation for all four," master Shu said. "Especially companions. By the end of the year, you will have achieved a level of foundation that is currently unimaginable to you. You may think you're hot shit for winning the tournament, but you are a frog, and I will show you just how large the world beyond your well is."
His tone wasn't harsh, and he didn't attempt to intimidate Wu Hao, not in the way that he'd intimidated Jin Youshu. Nonetheless it was clear that he wouldn't brook any argument.
Wu Hao still wasn't convinced. The last few months had not been a total waste, but he'd nonetheless had to fight off the temptation simply to leave and go find his fortune somewhere in the world.
He could've reset - tried to win without rousing the master from his 'contemplation' - but he'd seen how far that would've gotten him with Jin Youshu. And without the master there to intervene, could he have done anything? It was hard to say and Wu Hao did not feel the need to attempt it. For now, he was stuck with the journey ahead of him.
"I still need to get the Jade Orchid," he said.
Master Shu waved. "Yes, you do. We'll stop at the Emei Sect and grab it from their gardens, if you'd like."
Slightly mollified, Wu Hao nodded. His attention returned to the stage, where lightning strikes crashed against plum blossoms and somehow lost, wasting their charge on tearing down beautiful petals that seemed made of fire.
Zhu Tian was winning. That much was clear. Wu Hao leaned forward, intent on studying every single stroke of either man's swords to glean as much as he could.
Another knock came at the door. This time there was no servant to announce their new visitor.
"Who is this time?" master Shu grumbled. "Any other enemies you've made somehow, brat? Do you owe a debt to the Peng, perhaps?"
"Not that I know," Wu Hao mumbled. "And I'd remember that, right?"
"Fine. Let them in, boy."
Wu Hao sighed, cast a longing glance at the final fight of the day, and trudged over to the door. When he tore it open, it let in Bai Yiju. His scholarly appearance had faded somewhat, mostly because the crowd of the arena had roughened him up a little. Someone had dumped some ground meat all over his lap and it looked like he'd tried to clean it up, only to create somewhat more of a mess.
"Apprentice Bai Yiju greets the grandmaster!"
He bowed so low that his shin nearly kissed his shoes. Master Shu looked at Wu Hao, though, and rolled his eyes. Then he waved his hand and Bai Yiju's back was forced straight again until he stood, with his head bowed, facing both of them. His hands snapped over his hips so that he could try and hide the stain.
"Greetings," Master Shu said. He sounded very much bored. "Why weren't you introduced to me yesterday?"
"I stayed with family, sir!" Bai Yiju said. He'd have tried to bow again if master Shu wasn't still holding him up. "I humbly apologize! I came to watch the match, only to find you present, and I rushed to make my introductions!"
Master Shu sighed. "I suppose it is the Winter Solstice. A time for family and such."
The faintest hint of something morose crept through his eyes, but it was gone in a flash. He looked at Bai Yiju again.
"Whose apprentice are you, exactly?"
"Senior Journeyman Wang Bin, sir!"
"Wang Bin?" master Shu asked. "I haven't had the time to be introduced to all of the journeymen yet. Do you know him, disciple?"
"He was the man who taught me arrays," Wu Hao said, which was mostly true. He turned back to Bai Yiju. "Where is he? I thought Wang Bin said he'd be here."
And if there was a small stab of hurt at the thought that Wang Bin had missed the match, well, Wu Hao ignored it. This was a good day, despite some ups and downs. There was no need to linger on uncomfortable thoughts. Perhaps Wang Bin had simply been delayed by something.
Bai Yiju gave him a glance. It was funny how his demeanor had completely shifted; whereas before he'd talked to Wu Hao with some resentment lingering in his eyes and they'd competed more than once over arrays, now the other boy seemed to demonstrate an outward servility. Wu Hao could still read his qi, though, and that spoke clearly of a deep-seated feeling that he was still Wu Hao's better when it came to arrays.
"Teacher Wang Bin said that he had to return to the mansion to complete some final work on arrays," Bai Yiju said, after receiving a pointed glance from Wu Hao.
"Which project is this?" Master Shu asked. He wasn't even looking at the arena now. "This crown I've heard so much about?"
"I - I'm afraid I do not know, sir," Bai Yiju said.
"Disciple?" master Shu asked, and it took Wu Hao a moment to remember that that referred to him.
"I don't know either," Wu Hao said. "He never mentioned it. He's been at it for a while, though."
"Hrmm," master Shu said. Wu Hao glanced up at the master's face but couldn't glean anything from his expression. "Well, so be it. We will see him later, I suppose. You are dismissed, boy. Enjoy the rest of your holiday."
Bai Yiju tried to smile but it seemed at best rather queasy. "Yes, grandmaster. Thank you, grandmaster."
And then he scampered. Wu Hao scurried back to the front of the room but the fight was over, now. Zhu Tian had easily pulled through and looked barely even winded, though Mo Chen had clearly given it his all.
Goddamnit, Wu Hao thought. He'd been looking forward to watching that the entire week.
Another interminable speech, capped with an awards ceremony where Zhu Tian was handed a medal and a commemoration of his achievement, which allowed him to be treated as a half-step master-tier cultivator by any officials. There were other materials, which would be presented to him later. Zhu Tian looked proud, in a reserved sort of way. The audience began to stream out, having probably been given the rest of the afternoon off.
"Let's go," Master Shu grunted. Wu Hao wouldn't have listened if not for the sudden pressure keeping him contained, unable to set a single step. Master Shu stepped forth, bridging the gap in an instant, and then his wizened hand landed on Wu Hao's shoulder. "Let's go together, disciple. We still need to make you presentable for the Gathering of Young Heroes tonight."
Without waiting for an answer, there was a sudden sense of movement. It wasn't quite that they had moved, though. Wu Hao had not taken a step, and neither had master Shu. Neither had the master so much as twitched. It was just that the world suddenly hurtled past, the land underneath them moving in a blur that Wu Hao couldn't even properly perceive with his eyes, and the next second they had returned to the mansion.
Feeling the master's hand lift from his shoulder, Wu Hao caught his breath. That had been the absolute smoothest movement art that he'd ever experienced.
Master Shu's qi spiked, reconnecting with the mansion, and there was a twitch as the arrays all flared to life. He paused, and so did Wu Hao. The arrays of the mansion felt somehow off. It was like a painting that had been placed back onto the wall after falling, and though the picture had remained the same the angle had shifted just a little bit. Enough to register as different, not enough to be able to tell right away why.
"The second floor," Master Shu said, turning as if he could see through the stone of the mansion's construction. "I'll investigate the arrays. Go."
Wu Hao barely heard the master speak before he was all but throwing himself up the stairs. If he'd had enough qi to do so, he'd have used the Dragon-Gate Ascending movement art, but he'd exhausted it all fighting Hua Lixin and he hadn't had the time to recuperate in the whirlwind of congratulations.
He skidded as he slowed to turn when he reached the second floor. With every step the feeling of dread deepened. Deep down, though, he had a premonition of where he'd find the disturbance, and he saw that he'd been right.
The room to Wang Bin's door was open. It wasn't blasted off its hinges, but nonetheless it lay open with a carelessness that Wang Bin had never before shown.
Wu Hao ran forward, expecting - expecting something. Wang Bin, hurt in some sort of explosion as the array that he'd been trying to etch backfired, perhaps. A ransacked room that bore the signs of burglary. Something like that.
But when he wrenched open the door, Wang Bin was nowhere to be seen. Wu Hao didn't feel relief or anything quite like that, though. That was a luxury denied to him once more.
What he saw instead was the body of Senior Journeyman Lu, the man who was supposed to have had the crown. Patterns lay etched around his forehead that matched those Wu Hao had seen on young master Mu's after the crown had been removed. The man's heart had been ripped out, leaving nothing but a gaping hole from which ink stains had dripped out of.
And judging by the state of decomposition, he had been dead for weeks already.