Chương 125: Chapter 124: Spirit Honey

Senior Brother Wu Nai - The Senior hired by Yang to take him to and from the competition events.....

"Elder," Yang said with a smile, "how do I feed them? Already expecting a vitriolic comeback.

"How do you feed them?" The elder looked at Yang with undisguised contempt.

"You draw out your qi and let them eat it. How did you even reach the second stage of Qi Condensation? It is not exactly alchemy, you do not even need to ask that." Yang just smiled, amused at the grumpy elder and tried to follow his instruction and push his qi outward. It felt similar to adding qi into a talisman inscription, but without the brush.

With talisman work the brush channelled the flow on its own once it made contact, the way paper draws in water the moment it touches the surface, spreading without being pushed. A good brush kept pulling the qi through as long as you allowed it, and the work became a matter of regulating the output rather than generating. Here there was nothing to pull. He was pushing qi toward his open right hand and keeping it there entirely by his own effort, with no tool to smooth or sustain the flow.

Using a technique was similar. A technique once started automatically drew the qi needed. It could be considered even easier because a technique doesn't need you to regulate the amount of qi. You can push more qi in to over power it but thats a conscious decision one has to make. Techniques once learned almost become reflexes. Here he was instead pushing qi toward his open right hand without any of that assistance, and it took more control than he expected to keep it steady.

A technique pulled qi from the dantian and directed it outward with its own function. It took him a couple of tries before he managed to let out a small wisp. It was pale gold in colour. He had never seen his own qi before. He was immediately distracted by it, wanting to look more closely, and the moment his concentration broke the wisp dispersed. But not before his original escort had been there, mouth open, and simply inhaled it. Yang had seen the bee's mouth for the first time.

Pink inside, perfectly round when open, and it had drawn the qi in the way you draw liquid through a straw, a visible pull with the wisp visibly travelling across the short distance before disappearing inside it. He was annoyed. It was his first time seeing his own qi and he had not gotten to properly look at it. But the swarm had moved closer at the little bit of qi he has managed to wrench out and this clearly was not the moment to experiment.

He raised his hand again and pushed another wisp out after a few more tries. His original guide had apparently established dibs. It came in first again, took the wisp, and only after a few rounds did others begin approaching. One at a time they drifted close, took their wisp, and buzzed back. In this way Yang fed approximately thirty or so bees before he felt his qi stores sitting at roughly half of their usual level and stopped. The elder made a disparaging sound in the background.

"Weaker than I expected. Just this small amount and already finished." Yang smiled helplessly and shrugged, he was putting away seventy percent of what he absorbed towards the inner consciousness, he had little to spare to give to someone else. Although he was genuinely amused by this elder. His months at White Cloud Sect had given him a clear picture of the sect's general warmth toward its disciples. Running into this elder was a uniquely refreshing change of pace. Love this novel?

Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. He looked at the crystal vial the elder had tossed him. It was ornate, the crystal refracting light into a small scatter of colours across his palm. It looked like a piece of art rather than a simple container. He removed the stopper and looked toward the hive, uncertain how to proceed. In his village back home, whenever a hive was discovered the whole thing was taken.

He was fairly confident that was not on the table here, and if he attempted it he would likely be turned into a bloody sieve by these friendly bees. He looked at his guide, still hovering closer than the others. The bee seemed to understand. It flew toward a specific section of the hive surface, circled it a few times, then looked back at Yang expectantly. Yang brought the vial closer and moved toward the section the bee had indicated.

At its continued insistence he brought the vial mouth close to that particular spot. The bee then did something with its own mouth, it broke off the seal in that particular spot and a thin stream of honey began to run from the hive directly into the vial. Yang kept the vial close and caught every drop, tilting and adjusting as needed. When the flow stopped he waited another moment, caught the last drop, and brought the vial up to his nose. It smelled like regular honey.

The colour was a deep brownish-red, looking unnaturally glossy. He pressed the stopper back in. Twenty millilitres, roughly, maybe slightly more. He looked around and the swarm had mostly lost interest in him. They were dispersing back to the hive and out across the gardens, going about their business. Only his new friend remained, still buzzing in slow circles at his shoulder level. Yang extended one hand toward it. The bee landed. It was fluffy.

The fine fur on its body softer than he had expected, the texture closer to a very small cat than to any insect he had encountered before. As he pressed his finger gently against it the bee leaned into his hand and then buzzed a happy circle around his head, a motion that conveyed satisfaction and happiness. Yang let out a short laugh. He turned toward where the elder was still standing.

"Elder, I am Chen Yang from the outer sect peak. Thank you for your guidance. I am here to watch the plant cultivation competition so I will take my leave." He gave a bow. The elder ignored him entirely and turned away. Yang took no offence and started making his way up toward higher ground, the vial tucked safely in his sleeve and the bee still drifting along beside him. The gardens grew more manicured as he climbed, the wildness of the lower peak giving way to organised beds and clearly tended plots.

Eventually the pavilion came into view ahead, with disciples moving around it. Yang slowed. The bee was still with him.

"I am going to watch the competition," he said to it.

"What will you do there?" The bee buzzed happily which didn't exactly answer his question.

"How about this. Go home. When you want to visit again, come to the outer sect peak. That is where I live." The bee appeared to give this serious consideration. Then it flew in one last circle around his head, bumped his nose firmly enough that he let out a surprised sneeze, and launched itself back the way they had come, growing smaller until he lost it among the green. Yang watched it go with a smile. What an extraordinary creature. He walked the remaining distance to the pavilion.

It was built in a traditional style, open on the sides, large enough to hold hundreds of people. The air inside was even fresher than the path had been, brimming with qi in a way that settled pleasantly against his spiritual sense. Looking around, Senior Brother Wu Nai had been entirely right about the attendance. There were hundreds of disciples and elders present, but compared to the crowd at the alchemy event it was sparse. There were no seats.

The best way to describe the layout was a science competition in a school from his first life. Tables spread throughout the pavilion in long rows, each one holding displayed plants, and disciples and elders moved between them at their own pace while the presenting disciple explained what was on their table. Conversations everywhere, mostly quiet and technical. Completely opposite to the brewing event. No stage, no audience, no bell to start or stop anything.

Yang made his way through the entrance and began taking note of the people around him. He appeared to be the only outer sect disciple present. He checked sleeve embroidery on everyone he passed and could not find a single other outer sect pattern. Another thing: this event was judging both Foundation Establishment and Golden Core cultivators, though separately, making it effectively two events in one. Even the Foundation Establishment participants were not beginners.

The lowest cultivation level he could perceive was somewhere around the fifth stage. The rest were high enough that he could not read their realm at all. The scale of the event gave him a clear sense of where plant cultivation sat in the sect's interests. Not popular. Seriously practiced by a small number of people who were, without exception, considerably further along in their cultivation than he was. He had come to learn. He should learn.

Yang found the nearest end of one of the long rows and started walking it slowly, looking at what was on the tables.