On returning to the hut that the clan had allocated to him as a home, Strong River could not help but collapse in lethargy on the dirty reed mat that served as his bed. He slept dreamlessly, his thoughts a blessed void free from his usual inner turmoil.

For the next couple days, River rarely left the hovel except to handle the usual human necessities. Mister Black had cautioned him to take the time to consolidate his gains and understand the changes in his body. Reaching the state of clearing the meridians required a substantial breakthrough in the physique, lest the process tear the body apart, and resolving anomalies in one's physique was more natural in the earlier stages. Circulating his breathing in tune with the Passion Sublimation Technique, River did not experience the same explosive growth as when drawing in the lotus' energy, but a trickle of the nourishing energy of heaven and earth did still enter.

Shortly after dawn on the third day, one of the servant women in the clan came to his abode bearing a message. He was summoned to meet with the clan elders in their lodge at noon on this very day.

A trace of the early morning's light trickled under the door after the woman left, River's gaze following her exit. The woman had had no clue of the purpose nor the importance of the summons, only that it had been given and that he was to obey. Doubt and worry gnawed at the pit of his stomach as he considered the possibilities. Had they discovered something already?

"Mister Black," he queried his inner guest, "do you think they know?"

The old man's inner voice snorted. "Come now, do you think this old man is blind or something? There was nobody else near the pond that day, nor has anybody yet been out there since. While the other bandits are no doubt searching for their missing comrades, anything so far is merely a fishing expedition."

River nodded his head, the seed of concern dwindling from gnawing to a mere nibbling. He was a good-for-nothing weakling, an orphan who lived at the grace of the clan, so useless as to only be able to handle the lightest of menial tasks. A scintilla of lingering doubt gnawed at the possible reasons why the elders would be summoning him of all people and right now of all times.

Rising with a stretch, River cracked open the door and went about his morning business as usual. Doing so occupied about half an hour before he returned to the hovel, his hands encumbered with a bowl of vegetable gruel from the kitchens in one hand and a full pail of water in the other. He shoved open the door and entered, kicking it closed behind him.

The young man could not help but wince a bit as he sampled the gruel and bit into a particularly fibrous bit of unidentifiable vegetable in the mix. He couldn't help but look forward to the future where he didn't need such a mundane means of sustenance, where if he had to eat it would be rich meats and delicate spiritual fruits and vegetables. These past days the breaks between meditation had been filled with discussions with Mister Black, and he had learned something of the life of a real cultivator from those. He comforted himself with such thoughts as he chewed.

Setting aside the emptied bowl, River assumed a meditative pose on his reed mat bed. While devotion to cultivating in every empty moment was admirable, he rushed into this session so that the vast black hole could devour his unease. Passion Sublimation truly was a remarkable technique, he mused. He felt almost indulgent in the state devoid of all the traumas that, before his transformation, had shaped him so much. If only he could be left this way forever...

River's eyes snapped open. Time passed quickly in that state, and the sun's rays penetrated the spaces between the boards that made up the ceiling of his hovel. He stripped down and wiped himself down with a cloth dampened from the bucket of water he had brought back earlier, clearing up the accumulation of dust along with the film of sweat and impurities that his body expelled during meditation. Since today was a meeting with the clan elders, he selected his newest linen tunic and his best pair of tanned hide trousers to wear to the meeting.

"Well, Mister Black, it looks like it's time to go find out what those old geezers want." River coughed. "No offense, of course."

Mister Black chuckled. "Young man, they're mere whippersnappers to this old man. Cultivators learn early on that age is not the measure of seniority, but strength. Especially those of us who transcend the veil of stars..." he broke off, an interruption River had come to associate with Mister Black having a moment of wistful recollection. "Soon enough you will be stronger than all them put together, and they'll have to come when you summon them. Just you wait and see. Now about this meeting..."

Mister Black gave River advice on handling himself as he approached the robust log cabin that served as the lodge for elders, the seat from where they governed the clan. A pair of bare-chested warriors draped with animal furs stood sentinel over the entrance, their eyes monitoring the area and keeping track of all who neared the structure. As River stepped up the men nodded, recognizing him and that he was scheduled here, and one of them swung open the large wooden door. River returned the nod and stepped inside.

He couldn't help but pay more attention than usual to the quality of the construction in the lodge's vestibule as the door shut behind him. The interior was lit with a couple of bronze lamps anchored in the ceiling, the aromatic oils permeating the air with their perfume. A couple of straw-filled leather cushions were propped against the walls, places to wait for when the lodge had many visitors. At the moment, though, the chamber was empty.

Inhaling deeply, River stepped up to the inner door, about to knock when he heard the sound of voices inside. Had this been a few days ago, he might not have heard more than that there were voices, but with his rise in physique training also came an enhancement of the senses, including his hearing. He paused for a moment to listen.

"...don't know why we're wasting our time with this," a man said. "The boy's been more and more recalcitrant as he gets older. We should throw him a stipend and send him off."

"Wave," a second voice chimed in, "membership in the clan comes with both responsibilities and benefits. The spirits of the boy's parents deserve better than some crass short-sighting weighing of the immediate term. If we threw out every descendant that got stranded at an early bottleneck--"

"We'd be the stronger for it, Ripple." A third voice interjected.

"Yes, Cloud," the second voice retorted, "Until their parents all abandon the clan and seek less cruel patronage."

"This boy has no parents, though," a fourth voice interjected. "We need not weigh him on the same scale."

"Then we should put some fear of hell into the brat and he'll either shape up or run away. We'll be done with this nonsense either way," the first voice proposed.

River had heard more than enough of his own life being discussed as something to be weighed on a scale. He knocked on the door, a loud boom as it was a bit more forceful than he intended.

"Enter."

He pushed the door open and entered the main chamber, keeping his gaze half-downcast as he closed the door shut behind him. Mister Black had suggested that for this meeting he play the part of a lamb and that he could show his claws later, and for now that was his aim.

The room was structured like a great circle, with seven throne-like chairs arranged around an inner ring: six for the elders and one for the clan chief. Four of these seats were currently occupied at the moment, with the central chief's and two elder's seats remaining empty. River suppressed a sigh of relief; a lack of the full conference meant that at least the elders didn't consider this a serious matter.

"Welcome, little River," Elder Ripple, a kindly old man greeted him. "We've called you here--"

"To find out what the hell we're going to do about you." Elder Wave, a sharp-browed middle-aged man interrupted. "You eat, you sleep, you crap. We feed you, house you, give you a hole to go in, give you clothing. And you're doing what, exactly? Still mooning after that little village wench?"

River controlled his breathing, not rising to the provocation. Each and every Elder here stood at the pinnacle of the Human Realm in physique tempering, and so he was not a match in a direct confrontation with any of them, let alone all of them.

"No, sir," he responded, he gaze still half-focused on the ground in front of him, "this one has been working to break through his bottleneck, sir."

"Well you've certainly gained a few pounds," offered Elder Pearl, a pinch-faced man with eyes squinted from much time counting and sorting. Those eyes calculated, weighed, measured.

"Oh, good!" Wave exclaimed sarcastically, "Maybe if he plumpens up a bit more we can strip him, bathe him, bind him, and send him to the Dragon's Den where at least some of them might enjoy that sort of thing. That way we can at least recoup some of the cost of raising him."

River's knuckles made slight cracking sounds as he mentally grabbed for the image of the black hole. He sought stability and calm as he tossed in his anger.

"So you broke through," Elder Cloud, a muscular man draped in furs, noted.

"This one is pleased to say he has finally met with success and has spent the past few days recovering," River replied. He was thankful for the preparation Mister Black had given him such that he could say that line without having to improvise in the face of Elder Wave's provocation.

The reactions of the elders were a study on their own. Ripple looked pleased, Cloud indifferent, and Pearl's eyes narrowed as he made another calculation. Wave frowned, skeptical but not challenging the statement.

"Well then, some congratulations are in order then," Ripple broke the silence, giving a slight glare over to Wave before continuing. "I think nobody will disagree with me in saying you should take another couple days to rest before we assign you to something a bit more suitable for a young man gaining in strength. Right, gentlemen?"

Wave kept frowning, but Cloud grunted his agreement while Pearl nodded his agreement.

"If there's nothing else?" Ripple looked around at the assembled, "Then our business with you is concluded for the moment, Little River. You can see yourself out."

And like that, River was dismissed. He turned and left the chamber, taking care to be neither too hasty nor too lax, taking a couple deep breaths as he entered the vestibule and closed the door behind him.

"That Wave is quite the dirty bastard, isn't he?" Mister Black offered an initial analysis.

"You don't know the half of it, Mister Black. He has no children or wife of his own, either, so he piles his influence behind his sister's son. When I open my meridians and touch true essence, that old man's the first I'll make regret it." River's jaw flexed as he ground his teeth in vexation.

"It looks like we'll need to find some reason to get you away from this place for a while then," Mister Black mused. "Otherwise I fear that man might work to hamper your growth."

River nodded in silent agreement as he opened the door to the outside, passing the guardsmen as he made his way back to his rickety hovel.

It was two-thirds of the way there before River encountered the youth he had spoken of. In the middle of the dirt path stood a trio of youths clad in skins led by none other than Soaring Wave, Elder Wave's most beloved nephew.