Dao of the Deal - Chapter 67: Recruiting (4)

The specter didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked Muchen slowly up and down. Muchen could feel a phantom pressure on his shoulder blades, the natural result of the difference in their cultivation. If Xinyi wasn’t present, he knew they would be having a very different conversation.

“Your Flower Mountain sect? With that cultivation base?”

Muchen held his gaze, refusing to back down. It took more effort than he would have liked to maintain a stoic facade. He was saved from having to come up with a reply when Xinyi spoke.

“He has a talent for administration,” she said. “And he speaks for all of us: no freeloaders.”

Muchen nodded, grateful that she had decided to present a united front, then moved to build on her support. “So, are you willing to teach?”

Alchemists were notoriously loath to share with outsiders. The Qianzhan Empire wasn’t the kind of place to encourage the free sharing of information in the first place, and alchemists especially tended to consider every little tidbit of knowledge about their craft to be a precious secret to be shared only with family members or disciples.

Muchen was banking on the fact that he had Junfeng and Xiang more or less over a barrel. Junfeng was in no state to move about on his own. The Iron Bones sect might not make it a high priority to track down a wayward outer disciple, but they still wouldn’t let him live an easy life if he couldn’t find someone to shelter him from their scrutiny.

Xiang had things even worse. It was nice to dream about Junfeng growing to the point that he could burglarize the Cloudy Peak sect’s vaults, but that was something that would only ever be a dream. Realistically, if he wanted to get his body back then he would need to get the help of a faction that could go toe to toe with the hegemon sects. Trying to strike a bargain with an existing hegemon would see him subjected to far more embarrassment than Muchen would dare to heap on his ghostly shoulders. Throwing in his lot with a rising faction that had Xinyi’s power behind it was his best chance to get what he wanted within the next century or two.

That was not to mention the fact that if he turned Muchen down flat, Xinyi might just snuff out his spirit on the spot.

“I suppose I would be willing to take on more disciples,” Xiang said, “provided that they have some talent at the art.”

Muchen shook his head. “No disciples.”

Xiang frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Flower Mountain isn’t organized quite like other sects,” Muchen said. “Members owe their loyalty to the sect itself. Only Xinyi has been permitted to have a traditional master-disciple relationship.”

Muchen tapped his chin in thought for a moment. “I suppose Junfeng can be an exception, seeing as you are joining us as a pair. But that’s it.”

Breaking up an existing relationship was a much bigger thing to ask than simply prohibiting any new relationships from forming in the future. While Muchen had Xiang over a barrel, he didn’t want to push him to a point of true desperation by forcing him to let Junfeng go. Forcing him to teach to students who weren’t his disciples was, by comparison, only a minor humiliation.

“You want me to teach to, what,” Xiang said, “any member of the sect who wants a lesson.”

Muchen nodded. “Yes, although you’re free to organize them into classes for the sake of efficiency.”

“Efficiency? What an appalling idea,” Xiang said. “How can I take out the secrets passed down to me by my master and pass them on to just anyone?”

It was nice that Flower Mountain would be adding an alchemy master to their ranks, but Muchen could already see that his attitude would be a constant source of frustration. All that time Xiang had spent building up his skills had also seen him set in his ways. The best time to start breaking that mindset was right now.

“If you don’t like it,” Muchen said, “you’re free to try to find shelter with a more accommodating sect.”

“Don’t think you can forget about my Celestial Phoenix Rebirth pills just by running away,” Xinyi added.

Xiang gave Xinyi a long look before his spectral shoulders slumped. “I suppose there’s no real harm in teaching to members of the same sect.”

Muchen nodded. He wanted to encourage the idea of pooling techniques and develop a culture of innovation at Flower Mountain. It was all well and good to benefit from the heritage of lost ancient techniques when you found them, but prizes like that weren’t something he could come up with on command. Besides, in the end the ancients had lost their war and been forced to try and seal off the QIanzhan Continent. If they ever wanted to reach a higher level they would have to make it on their own strength. Getting the knowledge pool started would naturally involve a bit of arm twisting.

“And my pills?” Xinyi asked.

“It will take time,” Xiang said. “Years. Junfeng needs training, and the ingredients have never been easy to come by.”

Xinyi gave him a searching look. For a moment Muchen feared the sect would lose its alchemy teacher before he had a chance to give a single lesson. Then she gave him a reluctant nod.

“I’ve waited this long,” she said, “I suppose waiting a little longer won’t hurt.”

Muchen clasped his hands together, glad that everything was working out. “Wonderful. I’m glad to add you both to the Flower Mountain sect.

“Junfeng’s instruction will be left to you,” he continued, nodding at the ghost, “but I should tell you that he has the choice to adopt the sect’s scripture once he begins building his foundation.”

Xinyi was the Flower Mountain sect’s most important asset, and it was her coercion that had brought Xiang to light and convinced him to join the sect. Muchen didn’t want to rely only on force to keep the alchemist on board, though—if for no other reason than so that he could take his future pills with peace of mind—which meant he needed to offer a carrot to soften the threat of the stick. The Storm Dragon scripture was the sect’s second most important asset. While Xiang was no doubt too far along in his cultivation to switch over, it could still offer substantial benefits to Junfeng.

Xiang waved a ghostly hand in dismissal. “Nothing you could bring out could rival the techniques I have on hand.”

Xinyi cleared her throat. “Are you looking down on the cultivation methods of my sect?”

“No, no, of course not,” Xiang said, his arrogant posture vanishing immediately. “What I should have said was that an alchemist requires a fire-natured cultivation technique in order to reach the pinnacle of the craft.”

Muchen nodded. That made sense. On a practical level, in order to get peak performance out of a pill furnace, one would have to have a great command of the flames. On a more philosophical level, flames were strongly associated with the idea of refinement and transmutation. Lightning was associated with destruction. There was an element of purification, too, in lightning based scriptures, but it was more violent than anything an alchemist would want to rely on.

Muchen glanced over at Junfeng. Most of the shock that had been on his face at seeing Xinyi yank Xiang around had faded, but he still seemed content to watch the ongoing conversation from the sidelines. That wouldn’t do, not when they were planning out his future.

“Do you want to pursue alchemy?” Muchen asked.

“Of course he does!” Xiang said. “He should be thanking his ancestors every morning for the good fortune of learning from me.”

“I understand that until now, your only teacher is an alchemist, so you wanted to follow in his footsteps,” Muchen said. “But that’s not your only choice now, you know? Flower Mountain won’t force you to take on any particular role. Whatever you want to learn, we’ll do our best to teach you.”

Muchen felt a little guilty to be making promises that he’d be relying on Xinyi to uphold, but this was important. Whatever Junfeng wanted to learn in the future, he’d go a lot further if he could pursue what he really wanted whole-heartedly.

“I understand,” Junfeng said, “but I want to stick with alchemy.

“If you get really good at fighting, then you have to fight all day to make a living,” Junfeng continued. “I’d rather sit in front of a pill furnace all day and get rich.”

Well, Muchen wasn’t going to argue with that. As long as his ambitions included enough benefits for Flower Mountain as a whole, he’d be happy to help Junfeng pile up wealth.

“Very well,” Muchen said, before turning back to Xiang. “If you have such a useful technique, I hope you’ll be willing to share it with other aspiring alchemists.”

Xiang made a face like he’d just bit into a lemon. “It’s bad enough to give away the secrets of alchemy. Now you want me to share my cultivation secrets as well?”

“I want you to teach our talented disciples how to become alchemists,” Muchen said. “If that requires teaching them an appropriate cultivation technique, then naturally that should be included as well.”

“I can’t,” Xiang protested, “I swore to my master never to share his technique with anybody but my own disciples.”

Muchen crossed his arms and gave the specter a searching look. People on the Qianzhan Continent took their oaths seriously, but it was hardly unheard of for somebody in an awkward position to “remember” a convenient oath that required them to get their way.

If the ghost was serious and Muchen pushed him on it, then the backlash from violating his oath could cause him to dissipate on the spot. On the other hand, if Muchen let him have his way every time he brought up an oath, he’d lose a lot of his leverage as the sect leader.

“Then you’ll be teaching our employees alchemical theory,” Muchen said, “but it won’t do them much good without the practical skills to back it up.”

“Even in a desperate situation,” the ghost said, giving Xinyi a nervous glance, “you can’t expect me simply to give away the core of my alchemy techniques.”

Muchen barely resisted rolling his eyes. Of course he wanted the core of the old ghost’s techniques. There was no need to go to all this trouble to pick up some scraps around the edges. The most important thing was how the man’s teachings could help the sect’s bottom line in the future.

Having a few practicing alchemists plying their trade would make for a nice bit of supplemental income. It would probably even be denominated in spirit stones, seeing as cultivators were the most enthusiastic purchasers of pills.

Having a bunch of students with the technical know-how but no ability to put techniques into practice was an entirely different situation. If they were never going to earn money for the sect, they might as well spend their time on profitable activities instead of wasting time on useless lessons.

“I’ve never heard an alchemist cry poor,” Xinyi said, cutting off Xiang’s protests with a wave of her hand. “Even if you won’t share your core heritage, it’s not like you don’t have any fire-based cultivation methods you aren’t willing to take out.”

“Well,” the ghost said, calming down so quickly that Muchen couldn’t help but wonder how much of his distress had been an act, “I suppose I have a few scriptures I wouldn’t mind sharing.”

“Fine,” Muchen said. “As long as you help our budding young alchemists reach their potential.”

Right now those talents were strictly hypothetical. Muchen wasn’t sure himself just how many worthwhile students could be dug out of the soil of Li Village. Still, now that he’d secured a talented teacher, finding talented students would be much easier.