Apricot Tree, ???

Boatman: Three, two, one. Good. Throw the line! Slowly now. Don't hit anything!
Deckhand: Where's the tea? I need a hand!
The last of the cargo is loaded, and the bustle at the ferry terminal fades into a murmur. Sunset dances an apricot tree's shadow on the water, while a white bird glides over its golden surface.
Paper Heron: This is the place with Qi stagnation? It seems normal to me.
Paper Heron: I was expecting crumbled mountains and barren earth.
Pearl Finch: No wonder Master's mad at you. You hear only what you want to hear.
Pearl Finch: What you're describing is the chaos of Qi when Lǎnzhū awakens. Qi stagnation is entirely different.
Paper Heron: Ah, yes, that's right. I remember now!
Paper Heron: A place suffering Qi stagnation is effectively sealed shut. Nothing in it changes, grows, or dies. Right?
Pearl Finch: Close, but not quite. To seal away Qi altogether would require a very powerful artifact.
Paper Heron: Like Master's sword?
Pearl Finch: Oh, Heron, always drawn to the most peculiar things.
Pearl Finch: More often, the life force in such places quietly fades away. You might not notice it at first, but over time, this decay becomes evident.
Paper Heron: That sounds serious.
Pearl Finch: It could be major or minor. A mountain might collapse, or a small patch of grass might wither. No one can predict what will happen until the signs appear.
Paper Heron: So the whole town could suffer a serious disaster. Or just ...
She glances up at the apricot tree she leans against.
Paper Heron: This apricot tree here might not bloom again?
Pearl Finch: Yes. Either way, we should act before any trouble arises. Better to be safe than sorry.
Pearl Finch: From what I can gather, there are traces of Lǎnzhū's last awakening still lingering here. The flow of Qi is still partially blocked.
Pearl Finch: It's nothing too serious, but it's hard to rid it for good. It will need cleansing now and then.
Paper Heron: Really? That's great!
Paper Heron: Ahem. I mean, good. Yes. I can help you whenever you come down the mountain.
Paper Heron: Any thoughts on when you'll be coming down next?
The older Daoist looks at her, amused.
Pearl Finch: I'd say about two hundred years from now. Give or take a decade.
Pearl Finch: By then, you'll be able to travel on your own. You won't need to follow me.
Paper Heron: Two-Two hundred years?!
Pearl Finch: Two hundred years ago, this was wild land, you know. No one lived here. Now it's a port with ferries and traders busying its waters.
Pearl Finch: Who knows what it will be like in another two hundred years. The waters and fields will remain, but the sights will surely change.
A river breeze blows along the water's edge, knocking a few white and pink petals from their branches.
Paper Heron catches one, holding it up to examine its dry, yellowed edge. Letting it fall to the ground, she turns her gaze to the treetop.
Paper Heron: In two hundred years, this tree could grow to be as tall as the Mei tree at our school.
Pearl Finch: Perhaps, if it's lucky, if no axe cuts it down, if no disaster strikes.
Pearl Finch: Or, in two hundred years, it could be forgotten.
Paper Heron: Hmm. I thought you'd be disappointed once you learned we're just saving one tree.
Pip: I made a promise to the old man to help, and I will.
Pip: Besides, saving a tree is a good thing.
Pip: But where do we start?
The girl stares up at the long-barren tree, unsure of how to proceed.
Pip: I did some investigating of my own. Clearing the Qi won't be the only difficulty. There's also an enchantment placed here by an immortal.
Pip: I think this immortal saw the problem and placed the enchantment to clear the Qi. Clever, but over a hundred years have passed. The enchantment has decayed, letting the Qi stagnate once more.
Pip: How am I supposed to fix an immortal's work?
Paper Heron: Not to worry. I know how.
Pip: You do?!
Paper Heron: Intricate as this enchantment may be, it is no immortal's skill. Just a common ritual from my school. I've seen it many times since I was a youth.
Pip: Your school ... You didn't mention much about it on the way here. What's it like?
Paper Heron: It's in Huanzhou. But we keep to ourselves up in the mountains, so you may not have heard of it.
Pip: Hmm. It sounds like a nice place to learn and grow your skills, away from the world.
Paper Heron: Not exactly. My master once said that, in the old days, our seniors often descended the mountain. There's even a tale of a sage asking the head of our school for guidance. But that was long ago. No sect lasts forever.
Paper Heron: As for the students ...
Pip: They must all be skilled cultivators of Qi. Like you.
Paper Heron: Like me? Yes, and no. Each of us walked a different path.
Paper Heron: I was the last to join, see, and I'd always been a bit of a handful. Still, they all cared for me.
Paper Heron: Brother Liǎng was impatient and quick-tempered, always training the sword. He didn't quite fit the image of a master, more like a storybook villain. He ventured down the mountain more than anyone—loved meddling in other people's affairs.
Paper Heron: Brother Sān hardly spoke, choosing only to read the Daoist texts over and over. He had the appearance of a master, but he loved to lecture and scold people. And when he did speak, his words were often so fancy that sometimes I think even he didn't know what he was talking about.
Paper Heron: ...
Paper Heron: I also had a senior sister at the school. We were the closest.
Paper Heron: She was kind. Master liked her. Whenever there was trouble, we went directly to her. And if Master was going to punish someone, we'd ask her to intervene.
Paper Heron: But she didn't quite fit the image of a master either.
Paper Heron: The masters in tales are always ill-tempered, but not her.
Paper Heron: She ...
Another river breeze ripples the face of the water, and several dead leaves float down from a bare branch.
Pip: Heron?
Paper Heron seems totally lost in the branches of the apricot tree.
Paper Heron: Hmm? Oh. Sorry. I was lost in thought.
Paper Heron: Now, this enchantment. It's not one I've ever studied formally, but it's common enough knowledge in the school. It shouldn't prove too difficult.
Paper Heron: Here we go.
Paper Heron puts two fingers together, takes in a shallow breath, and releases, white Qi swirling at her fingertips.
Pip: Wow!
Paper Heron: With the flow of Qi, the mind opens wide!
She draws a complex sign in the air—one Pip has neither seen before nor understands—then points toward the tree.
Paper Heron: Now!
A clear wind carrying withered grass sweeps over the treetops.
Paper Heron: ...
Pip: Is that it?
Pip: I know you said it wasn't difficult to fix, but I was hoping there'd be more of a show.
Paper Heron: Ahem. Well, as you said, fixing it wasn't hard.
Paper Heron lets out a slightly awkward cough.
Paper Heron: But, despite my efforts, a problem still remains. Things are a little different from what I'd thought. I'll have to think of another solution.
Pip: A little different?
Paper Heron: Just a little! The enchantment is indeed from my school, yes. But the way to fix it ... Hmm. I'll have to think on that.
Paper Heron: This enchantment is simple but elegant. To fix it, I'll need to guide the Qi using the same method employed when it was first cast.
Paper Heron: But the enchantment is feeble. If I use too much power, I'll destroy it. One wrong move and it's gone.
Paper Heron: I need to be very careful. Wait a moment.
Paper Heron pauses mid-cast. She moves closer to the tree and taps its trunk hesitantly.
Paper Heron: This enchantment feels familiar. It feels like my senior sister's work.
Pip: That's great! Then it should be easier to solve, right?
Paper Heron: I'm not sure.
Pip looks at Paper Heron, confused, but she doesn't look back. Instead, her gaze is fixed on the seemingly benign tree trunk, lost deep in thought.
Pip: You said you often came down the mountain with your seniors. Perhaps you came here with your senior sister before?
Paper Heron: Perhaps that's so.
Pip: From what you've said, it sounds like you were close.
Paper Heron: Yes, we were.
Pip: Well, since you know the caster so well, you must be familiar with her habits and style.
Paper Heron: ...
Paper Heron: I have little memory of what happened back then.
Pip: Oh, I see.
Pip taps her chin with her forefinger, thinking as she circles twice around the tree.
Pip: Oh! I have another idea.
Pip: The ritual is your senior sister's, so the key is to mimic her style. Wouldn't the easiest way be to ask her?
Pip: At first, I was stuck, so I came to you. But now you're unsure too. The only route left to follow is to find the original caster.
She speaks earnestly, growing more confident with each spoken word.
Pip: Yes! We'll likely be gone for a while, meaning we'll miss this spring's blossoming season. But as long as we resolve the Qi stagnation, we can come back next year.
Paper Heron: Finding her might be difficult.
Pip: Why? Is she traveling? In seclusion? It doesn't matter. You're from the same school. You must have a way to reach her.
Paper Heron: A way to reach her ...
Paper Heron: It is possible, but I never learned how to summon a spirit.
Pip: Wait, what? Summon a spirit?
Pip: You mean she's no longer with us?

Open your eyes to see the future that we know?

A Daoist Awoken

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