Master Shu caught up with Wu Hao before he'd managed to do more than set foot outside the mansion, spear in one hand and the saber slung over his shoulders. His sleeves had been hurriedly stuffed with every knife that he had at his disposal and several that he'd ripped from the shelves on his path through the empty kitchens.
Now he stood there, in the cold, while the snow drifted gently down. Master Shu had appeared out of nowhere, a movement so smooth that not a single snowflake was disturbed by his passing.
He said nothing, but he did stand in Wu Hao's way.
"Are you going to stop me?" Wu Hao asked, feeling like a wild beast ready to bite at anything that looked at him. Wang Bin had lied to him. Killing him he could accept - but deceiving him? It felt like red-hot shame had burrowed into his chest and choked his lungs, making it hard to talk.
"I am not," Master Shu said. "I understand. This Wang Bin - your mentor -"
"He's not my mentor," Wu Hao snapped. "I don't know what he was trying to do, but he wasn't my mentor. He lied to me."
"Of course," Master Shu said, carefully. "But do you have an idea where he went?"
"I can find him," Wu Hao argued. "I can sense his qi."
"Please," master Shu said. He nodded his head. "If you can..."
"He went -" Wu Hao said, and realized he had no clue. He took a deep breath, nose in the air, and tried to focus on nothing except scents. If he could detect a even a faint whiff of mint...
Nothing. He could smell nothing. The only trace of mint that he could detect was inside the building itself, and even then he'd ripped through Wang Bin's room in an effort to figure out what had happened. He tried again, the cold air tickling his lungs and the wetness of the snow leaving tracks down his face as it melted against his skin.
Again, there was nothing. There was no shadowy qi, no trace of Wang Bin's presence either in mint or in anything else. There weren't even tracks of a carriage that might've brought him elsewhere.
Wu Hao felt his eyes prick with something and wiped at his forehead. One more attempt, he thought, and with a push of qi he sent himself flying into the air, where the wind brushed snow into his sleeves and pulled at his hair. He hung there for a frozen moment and cast his eyes around, trying to find anything that would help him figure out where Wang Bin had gone. The afternoon sun glared off the snow and nearly blinded him.
When he landed into the soft snow, he had realized there wasn't a single trace. He wanted simply to point out a direction and go that way, knowing that he might still convince master Shu if he spoke with enough conviction, and he glanced at the master, ready to lie to him.
But Master Shu's eyes were understanding. If Wu Hao had seen pity in there then he would have raged. If he'd found mockery instead he'd have ripped himself out of this life and left this Sovereign to his coma, but they were understanding and somehow that robbed Wu Hao's anger of its wings.
"I just want to know why," he muttered. What was wrong with his eyes?
With slow, plodding steps, master Shu neared. He placed a warm hand on Wu Hao's shoulder.
"I don't know either," he said, in a quiet voice. "But whatever happened to him - because of him - we will find out, and I will make this right."
Wu Hao didn't know what to say, so he allowed himself to be steered back inside the house. A few of the array masters were milling about in a haze, squinting at the open door that Wu Hao had burst through in his madcap escape from the mansion as if it was the first time they were seeing the outside world in years. For some of them it might even have been true.
"Sovereign," one of them called. Master Jie, if Wu Hao remembered correctly. He had a bad habit of using more ink than was required to add extra decorative flourishes to his arrays, but that was all he knew about him. "Is everything alright? We heard a commotion."
Master Shu nodded gravely. "I will speak to all of you about a man who resided here for some time," he said. "Wang Bin."
"May we ask why?" Master Jie said, sharing glances with another man. It had been master Jie who had taught Wang Bin, if Wu Hao recalled correctly.
"That is something I shall share in private," master Shu said.
Master Jie bowed stiffly. "Of course, sir."
"Later," master Shu said. "Make yourselves available. I have other business to attend to. My disciple and I need to prepare for tonight's events at the Festival."
Wu Hao scoffed. Had he ever really looked forward to this, to being there? The fact of Wang Bin's.... disappearance, he decided to call it - had robbed him of that excitement.
"Disciple," master Shu called. "Let's go."
Sighing, Wu Hao trotted along as the master strode outside. He felt a little like a dog being taken for a walk, and he scowled.
With a wave of master Shu's hand, the doors slid closed. They didn't crash into each other with brute force, but there was nonetheless a sense of finality as they shut themselves. Wu Hao hadn't quite gotten tired of the ways in which master Shu was seemingly using very little qi to achieve much more than he should have been able to, but every time the man did it, his head went a little fuzzy trying to work out what exactly had happened.
"Come on," master Shu said. He was about to place another hand on Wu Hao's shoulders but hesitated at the last instant. "I'm about to use a movement technique again. Are you ready?"
"I'm not a porcelain doll," Wu Hao grumbled, pulling the old man's hand down so it touched him. "Just go."
A faint smile touched at the master's mouth but Wu Hao didn't have the time to wonder if he'd really seen it correctly because the next moment they were standing outside the mansion. Another few shifting steps sent the rows of houses and the slums hurtling by like as if they were standing on a boat on a raging river, the surroundings impossible to make out before they were gone again.
They stopped in front of a large store. Wu Hao remembered the store of Wei Mingku's father, whose name he'd forgotten again. That had been a sad affair, with the sign looking dilapidated and the rest of the house and store much the same.
This store was what that store had been intended to be. It looked like a cheerful place, an impression that was helped by the colorful banners of cloth that had been hung around the storefront. A woman in expensive robes was walking away with the look of someone who wouldn't regret the money she'd spent, but whose husband might.
"Where are we?" Wu Hao asked, as master Shu's hand removed itself. "A tailor?"
He looked around, but all around the tailor's there were simple houses, except for a pharmacy around the corner, a bookstore and several other higher-profile stores. No cafes, though there were benches that had been covered in snow nearby, where the trees looming above might have provided welcome respite from the sun in summer.
"Not a tailor," master Shu said. "The tailor. I had a message sent last night after you went to bed, letting them know we would be coming."
"Why?" Wu Hao asked.
"You're making your formal debut with polite society tonight," master Shu pointed out.
"What's wrong with my current robes?" Wu Hao asked.
Someone chuckled. Wu Hao spun around and glared at the offender but unfortunately it was master Shu.
"Very little," he said. "For combat, they're decent. Good, even. That said, you mean to tell me you don't have any complaints?"
Wu Hao opened his mouth to say no, there weren't - but then he remembered that part of the reason he'd gone for the shifting steps was because taking huge leaps was more difficult with the limited leg room. The robes had fit him perfectly at first as well, but since first receiving them he'd started growing and now the cloth that had extended to his ankle now threatened to creep up his legs if he wasn't careful. He was still not as tall as he'd hoped he'd be, but he had growing left to do.
Also - and no one had said this to him but he knew it was true - he had studied in them, lived in them, fought in them. He wasn't always the most careful, either, and he had spotted several small stains of ink or of food already now that he was looking at the robes instead of just being in them.
"Let's go," master Shu said. He stepped forward and once again Wu Hao followed, feeling an odd trepidation.
The inside of the tailor's store was beautiful and very well-organized, especially compared to some other stores Wu Hao had seen. It was arranged specifically to allow the customers to browse the wares on display, with large dolls wearing martial arts robes striking heroic poses, unsharpened weapons in their hands. Mostly swords, Wu Hao noted, although a few were wielding spears and one - near the back - was wielding a saber.
Master Shu made his way through with casual confidence and walked up to a desk. In other stores he would have needed to ring a bell; in this one the clerk had snapped to attention the moment that master Shu had walked in.
"Congratulations, Sovereign," the clerk spoke, keeping his head bowed as if he was greeting an emperor or a high-ranking noble. "I've never had the pleasure of a Sovereign coming into my store before. You honor me immensely."
"Thank you," master Shu said. It was clear that he hadn't gotten tired of hearing that yet. Wu Hao snorted at the old man's pompous bearing, but master Shu hadn't heard. "However, we're here for my disciple. He will require new robes, at the very least."
The clerk's eyes tracked down to Wu Hao. He bowed low, though not quite as low, and spoke again.
"It is my honor to meet the young hero," the clerk said. "The winner of the Winter Solstice Tournament. Some are already calling you the second coming of the Sword Sovereign. I only wish I could have been there to see your victory for myself."
Obviously it was ridiculous flattery. Nonetheless Wu Hao had to fight down a small smile of his own, and the master snorted in return.
"Let me not waste any of your precious time," the clerk said, before either of them could make more fun of each other. "This way, young hero Wu. We have a wide selection of fabrics..."
He led Wu Hao to a large room where master Shu and the clerk engaged in a rapid-fire discussion of what type of cloth to use, how it ought to be cut, the placement of several items. The clerk didn't quite oppose some of master Shu's suggestions but - without making a scene - managed to steer around them tactfully. It was impressive but Wu Hao didn't have that level of servility in him.
"And what color will it be, sir?" the clerk asked.
"Red, I think," master Shu said.
"Why red?" Wu Hao asked.
"Red is a color that belongs to no particular sect," master Shu said. "Neither do we. Blue, orange, purple, white or black - all signifiers of leanings. We do not lean, hence we will make use of reds."
"You've put more thought into this than I thought," Wu Hao said, and winced as the clothing rack behind him grew an arm to smack him upside the head with.
"Think, boy," master Shu muttered. "Clothing is a matter of declaring to the world who you are and who you wish to be. In that sense, considering the effect it may have, it merits as careful of a consideration as any array."
Wu Hao grumbled nonetheless, realizing saying he didn't care how he was seen would be untrue and childish besides. In the end he was handed a swathe of cloth, directed to a dressing room, and was set upon by an army of tailors the moment he'd stepped out, feeling uncomfortable in the new robe.
"Young master," one of the tailors said, holding up a needle. "Hold still, please. It allows for a better fit if you are in the robes while we adjust them."
He just nodded, feeling the cloth carefully just in case he was pricked. He studied the men's techniques with their needles as they worked all around him, pinpricks throughout his clothes as just the smallest hint of qi poked through the seams on his clothing. Theirs was an Earth-tier technique. He wondered if they were some kind of sect, or maybe they were just some sort of guild. He could have asked.
Instead he tried to combine the technique he was seeing with the one he'd once learned from dying, a few years from now, and tried not to flinch whenever the needles came near. Wu Hao had bad memories of needles.
When they were done, they stepped back, and the clerk asked Wu Hao if he could move fluidly in the robes. To his surprise, he actually could. It was fairly heavy cloth but it didn't hinder his movements, and the sleeves were exactly the right length. He could easily kick as high as his shoulders without the slightest hint of discomfort, and the sleeves wouldn't interfere with his movements. The pockets in the robe could hold a decent amount without breaking up the 'line' of the robe, which was apparently vital. It felt good and warm even against the slightly chillier air of the tailor's.
Wu Hao hadn't intended to like the robe as much as he did, but he did like it. There was just one thing, though...
"There's no qi thread in this thing," Wu Hao said, disappointed. "Yours has it, though. Do I need to pay extra for that?"
"You wouldn't be able to afford it," master Shu said idly. "Not that you should. The robe'll be your project. It's a rite of passage of sorts as an array master. Don't ever trust any array that you haven't made yourself."
Wu Hao nodded slowly. That made sense. Although...
"I thought that doing the arrays in my own room was the rite of passage I had to go through," he said slowly.
Master Shu snorted. "There's a lot of rites of passage, disciple, and I intend to make sure you pass each one with flying colors. And if you don't I've got ideas on how to make sure you're properly incentivized the next time."
A playful glint had come into his eyes while he'd spoken. Wu Hao didn't like that even a bit.
"Wait," he said. "So I'm going to need to do the needlework as well?"
"Of course," Master Shu said. "Yet another skill you'll be glad to learn under my empl- I mean, tutelage."
Wu Hao shook his head in disgust. The word that master Shu had wanted to say at first had been employ, as if he was some sort of domestic servant. If that was what being a disciple actually involved, he would quit the old man as soon as he could.
"Next you'll want me to learn manners," Wu Hao mumbled. Master Shu laughed loudly, and when Wu Hao glared at him he only laughed harder.
"No," he said simply when he'd calmed down. "God, no."
Still chuckling he mentioned to the clerk, who came nearer.
"Send the bill to the mansion," master Shu commanded. "And we will need several robes for the summer also. Add them to the same order."
The clerk bowed. "Of course, sir."
With admirable efficiency they had packaged Wu Hao's old robes into a sack and said that these, too, would be sent along to the mansion. Not a single coin had changed hands but Wu Hao was sure the sums involved would make his head swim.
"Let's go," master Shu said, already striding out of the store impatiently. "We'll need several more things, and there's precious little time."
On and on it went. Before night had fallen Wu Hao had been outfitted with new weapons - a saber, a sword, a spear, knives, replacements for everything he'd lost during the fights. Master Shu had given him a staff as well, saying that Wu Hao was going to learn to use it one way or another. Then new boots, new gloves, a new hat, a ring of spatial storage that was keyed to Wu Hao's qi signature until he could learn to make one himself, a haircut and a long bath.
When he finally stood in front of the Immortal's Repose where the Gathering of Young Heroes would be held, he felt like a completely different person. Every new purchase had ripped away parts of him that had been dirty, but that same dirt had provided something of a comfortable armor to hide behind against whoever would try to strike him.
Now there was nothing left to hide behind. He ran a hand through the fringes of his new, fashionable haircut, and exhaled deeply.
He had fought four rounds against some of the strongest martial arts of his generation. He could make it through one evening at a restaurant without needing to feel nervous.