The dining hall within the Azure Spirit Sect completely changed that evening. With jade light hanging from the beams and at every table a new set of spirit dishes to replace old—prey steamed crane meat, fragrant lotus root in honey, dew-wrapped clean-up rice that slightly flashed with qi.
Actually, this once, the Outer Court was filled with joy. The dishes piled on their tables with such bounty now to welcome back all disciples from Broken Fang Gorge Trial. Lin Xuan smelled the scent first. Though it was everywhere mingling with the delicious food, there lay underneath a hint of bitterness sharp as smetz aconite.
He was perched on one end of a long table, the winged spear resting on the ground next to him. Across from him Wu Ming sat, his eyes wide and staring as he eyed the food.
"Senior Brother!" Wu Ming felt for a bun at this moment and put it in his mouth. "This is heavenly! Who cares about cultivation? If every day the sect keeps us fed like this, then by appetite alone I'll transcend!"
The corner of Lin Xuan's lips raised slightly. Inside, though, his heart was cold. Heaven does not throw banquets for Outer Court Disciples. Not without a price, anyway.
At the head of the hall was a Core disciple: he raised his cup and said, "To the future geniuses of the Azure Spirit Sect!" Cups clinked and toasts came back tangling. Laughter overhead rang like a bell.
Lin Xuan slowly raised his own cup, his eyes on the faint sheen along the edge. Under the light of that lantern, it was strangely twisted—tiny particles that glittered unevenly. Not wine, but powder.
[System Alert: Foreign substance detected. Composition: Heart-Break Powder, concealed with Spirit Wine. Fatal in three sips.]
Lin Xuan focused. Outwardly, his expression remained cool. However, he tilted the glass so that some of its contents spilled out leisurely onto the floor. The liquid hissed softly as it hit the stone. No one noticed—except one.
Meng Zhao sat further down the hall, cup untouched, watching Lin Xuan with a smile that did not reach his eyes.
Wu Ming quickly reached out for his own cup. Lin Xuan's hand flashed out as though it were as stiff as stone and slapped it away. Wu Ming was startled, "Master?"
"Later," Lin Xuan murmured gently. "This wine, with the hall quiet, always tastes especially good."
Wu Ming found his head cocked to one side, puzzled, but he obeyed and pushed the cup away.
After some time, another disciple, Zhao Kun—face still reddened from trying sparring—raised his. "Brother Lin, let us drink equally!" This was a gambit to which the entire hall gave out a hush. If he rejected it, Lin Xuan would get a name for arrogance; if he acquiesced, that might be death.
Lin Xuan's eyes fell far back into something that passed for a smile came up on his face. "Well, then."
While there might have been a toast spoken, from his mouth the wine itself actually took wing and, with a flick of his wrist, spilled perfectly into Zhao Kun's cup. The hall guffawed. "Ha! It's a raised toast! Nice play!" said one man.
Zhao Kun's smirk had died. He lifted the cup reluctantly, forced by the eyes of the crowd. He drank. The smile turned sour in moments. He drained away his happiness, his face rapidly losing color, and he dropped back into his chair crying out in pain and clutching his stomach. The hall went wild.
The fellow disciples crowded around Zhao Kun, wondering out loud where he was but without hearing any answers from Lin Xuan. "Ooo—Ermei! Bring him 'round here, quick!" Orders came from the top teacher inside the house. Those moved.
Lin Xuan sat completely motionless, his eyes half-closing in exhaustion. His low voice only carrying to Wu Ming, "You must remember. The world is never safe; even a laugh hides knives." Wu Ming swallowed hard and suddenly returned to sober reality.
Over in the corner, Meng Zhao still smiled, although his face maintained that hint of coolness which marked strictly intentional action. Yes, I realized. Well, parry away. Let's see how long you can shield yourself from beneath my shadow, Lin Xuan.
After they took Zhao Kun out of the room, the banquet quickly returned to normal but the laughter just wasn't as high. Eyes took one fast wary glance at Lin Xuan, and another as if in awe of his ability.
He sat silently, with only a cup of water for sustenance, and his spear lay across his knees.
The sect challenges me with poisonous things, with whispers in my ears, with shadows in their blades pointed at me. Let them come as far as they will. Every time they try, not one but two knives get sharpened. The day will come when all of their poisons must be turned back upon a thousandfold. Flame danced on the walls, through reflections made by the fluttering lanterns themselves.
Just as whispers can tell a man what he wants to hear, they can also tell him what people fear most.