Year 663 of the Stable Era,

  Twenty-second day of the eleventh month

  Later that night

  As it turned out, the restaurant that Bailong Shen had picked out was actually a small banquet hall. It was quite far off the path of the main festivities, nestled between the club district and their residential quarters. Its creaky wooden exterior was in exquisite disrepair, virtually identical to every decaying roadside inn that Chao Ren had seen in his life.

  A cracked wooden bench with a mildewy corner. Sun-bleached planks pale even in the dim light of its solitary lantern, a plain candle plainly visible through a tear in the paper. Its wooden sign was battered to the point of illegibility, sword strokes far outnumbering brushstrokes.

  If enough still remained he would recognize that the characters read ‘The Moment’s Reprise’.

  Or ‘The Moment’s Contemplation’, if Li Lee ended up being the one who remembered it right.

  The door opened with no special effort, revealing a wide hallway that stretched far further back than its dimensions should allow. It was taller too, exposed floors stretching past its apparent ceiling. They had a peculiar design to them, alternating between wood and air in a checkered pattern. Each square held a single table, their occupants enjoying their meals as they watched the spectacle unfolding beneath them.

  A pair of cultivators were locked in combat between four pillars, each covered in so many yellow paper talismans that it was impossible to tell if they were stone or wood. Flame and earth danced between them as they clashed, sparks and dust flying through the air. One shot a flash of surging flame towards them as they approached, and Chao Ren flinched in anticipation of it ringing against the barrier.

  But instead of stopping the flame roared forwards, its glowing coils screaming through the air. He leapt back in shock, just as it enveloped the receptionist. She remained unfazed as the flame wrapped around her, its coils fading into gemlike translucence as they continued through the air.

  Hurriedly he brushed himself off, as the rest of his companions did their best to regain their composure as Bailong Shen made his way over. The young dragon had the remains of a grin across his face, its corners peeking out despite his half-hearted attempt to hide it.

  “You don’t need to worry about your safety,” Shen said, waving them over as the receptionist turned back her work of slicing the ends off a bowl of string beans. “The Moment’s Contemplation is famous for its formations. Every table is spatially isolated, so that patrons can fight and spectate to their hearts content without worrying about dragging anyone else into their scuffle.”

  “Unless you want to, of course. But you have to register for that separately. It’s pretty popular with senior cultivators who want to relive the tavern brawls of their youths again. Just without subpar food, one-sided fights, and the piles of dead mortals.”

  Chao Ren looked around apprehensively. Upon second glance more than a few of the tables were far livelier than they had first appeared, the occupants leaping off invisible walls as they kicked at bowls and struck at each other with wine pots.

  The food did look good, at least when it wasn’t airborne. But even so…

  “I think I’ve had my fill of fighting for the day,” he said, looking around for the rest of their party. He spotted Min Huan and Lee Han off to the side of the ground floor, sitting behind a group of dark-robed cultivators from the Profound Depths Sect.

  “Oh, sure,” Bailong Shen nodded as they walked. “It’s a bad day for it anyways. Today’s reserved for Body Moulding cultivators, so you’d get squashed in an instant if you tried to participate.”

  He launched into an explanation on the way over, mostly over when the restaurant scheduled events like its Up-and-coming Disciple Brawl and Seniors Giving Guidance Night. He seemed intimately familiar with their structure, which made Chao Ren wonder just how often the dragon found time to eat here.

  Probably not as often as he seemed, given how much of his time his Inner Disciple duties took up. But definitely frequently enough to retain such a thorough memory of their upcoming events.

  “Each table also comes with a flexible illusion array,” the Bailong heir added as they stepped to their table. “So if you want to enjoy a relaxing meal there’s a dozen different locations you can choose from. Or, if you have the right sort of jade slip, it can even display their contents as well.”

  He rapped on the air between him and Lee Han, and the young tiger brushed a finger against a small jade token on the third knock. The air rippled as the ever-so-slightly tinted barrier fell, and the three disciples stepped inside as Shen retook his seat.

  “Ey! Let’s have some cheers for Chao Ren!” Min Huan declared, drips of wine spilling from his cup as he raised it towards the new arrivals. “The big winner’s here!”

  “Get him a cup first you lush!” Lee Han laughed, loosing the cloth from the top of a pot of wine as he filled a trio of waiting cups. His invisible hand slid one over to each of the late arrivals in turn, barely a drop sloshing from the top as they did. He was a lot better at that than he’d used to be, especially now that Shifu’s ban on fully practicing it had been lifted.

  “To the best disciple of the Teal Mountain Sect in the New Disciples Exhibition! Ganbei!”

  “Ganbei!” came the echoing cheer, followed by a clinking of cups. Lee Han enthusiastically licked the last of his wine from his lips as he looked up.

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  “Ooh right, we ordered some dumplings while Shen went to wait for you guys. They should be getting here sometime…now-ish.”

  A waitress with a steaming platter stepped through the barrier as he finished, depositing a zhenglong of pristine white dumplings as she did.

  “Your fried pork dumplings,” she said, the slit of her narrow dress narrowing as she stood. Its maker seemed to have been hard-pressed to find enough cloth to complete it, as there was barely enough material to cover much of anything. Incredibly, incredibly hard-pressed, which made looking at what little there was hard enough that Chao Ren felt the sudden need to inspect his empty plate.

  “Would you like to order anything else now that your companions have arrived?”

  “Oh,” Lee Han said, looking over at the food. “There’s only five.”

  “That’s the standard serving size.”

  “Guess that means we’ll have to order at least two of each,” Li Lee said, a dumpling already midway to his plate.

  “I’d like to claim at least one of the four extras,” Min Huan said, raising a hand as he reached for his chopsticks. “If we’re discussing allocation, that is.”

  “I’d like to order a shrimp fried rice to start, if that’s alright,” Bao said as the waitress passed out some menus. “Just for one though, unless anyone else wants some?”

  “Would it be possible for us to request an extra dumpling with each serving?” Bailong Shen asked, glancing over the menu in his hand before he turned to the waitress. “For a commensurate fee, of course. I wouldn’t presume to demand such a consideration without recompense.”

  “I believe that we can accommodate such a request, honored disciple,” the waitress bowed, respectfully eyeing his pale green Inner Disciple robes as she addressed the young dragon. “For such an esteemed member of the Teal Mountain Sect, we will ensure that it will be only a nominal increase on your final bill.”

  “Wonderful,” Bailong Shen replied, turning back to his menu. “Well, to start I would recommend the beef ribs. They’re quite good here. Has anyone else found anything they’d like to try?”

  Chao Ren turned to the menu in his hands, distractedly reading its offerings as his fellow disciples began suggesting items they’d like to taste. It wasn’t an inexpensive restaurant, but it wasn’t particularly expensive either. Only a few spirit stones for most of the dishes with a touch of qi to them, and plenty of mortal dishes to supplement the selection. Classic fare, as seemed in theme with its rustic appearance.

  A few dishes were exceedingly expensive, as was often the case at establishments such as this. One or two truly extravagant ones, but also several common recipes made from ingredients that he could only dream of one day trying. Something for powerful cultivators, or those with exceedingly expensive tastes. But he doubted that his body could accommodate food meant for a third stage cultivator even if his wallet could now bear the expense, so it was hard to feel too concerned about such things.

  Only one dish really caught his interest, and that was the lo mein. But Bao had already ordered it before he had a chance to voice his opinion, so he simply tossed his menu down to start the pile as he helped himself to more of the wine.

  The disciples fell into the familiar pattern of their meals, as if following the steps of a martial manual.

  Min Huan attempted to ask the waitress for a recommendation based on her personal tastes. Bao apologized for his childhood friend, then ordered another bowl of shrimp fried rice for that strange diet of his. Bailong Shen pointed out a number of options that he thought were interesting, half of which sparked brief arguments with Lee Han, who wanted to make sure that they didn’t also forget to add an extra meat dish at the end. And Li Lee…was there.

  Regrettably.

  At least the rice wine was good, for what it was. Certainly sweeter than most of the stuff that Bailong Shen tended to order, which meant that it had probably been either Min Huan or Lee Han’s choice. Potent with qi too, which was good for his recovery.

  All the better to replenish what he had expended in the tournament.

  He’d managed to only somewhat recover on the walk over, but he was still a far cry from any true semblance of health. His internal cycle was still off, his concentration and quality were lacking, and his meridians were still sore despite the recovery pill that he’d eventually ended up taking. His muscles still ached as well, enough that the softness of the plush seat cushions was becoming increasingly more agreeable by the second.

  Good, but not great. Just like the conversation, which had taken a turn following the waitresses departure. After the moderate ribbing that usually followed one of Min Huan’s attempts to flirt, talk had taken a tiresome turn back towards the tournament. Not his bouts yet, fortunately, but he could feel the topic begin to rise over the horizon just as the walls of the barrier flickered.

  For a moment it was a meadow in the spring, the air full of peach blossoms caught midfall. But the illusion soon shifted, bark and petals fading as their view of the back wall was replaced with the interior of the Green Jade Training Hall. A sparse crowd of barely ten tiny spectators shuffled around the benches, as two unfamiliar disciples stepped onto the stage and bowed to each other. Entrants from the other waiting room he imagined. And unsuccessful ones, as he was mostly certain that he hadn’t seen them after the crowd had thinned.

  “Oh, come on! At least start with the second round,” Lee Han groused, reaching for the stone sphere that the waitress had left on the table.

  “I’d rather start from the beginning,” Bailong Shen said, rolling the stone from one hand to the other as Lee Han took a swipe at it. “I arrived towards the end, so I ended up missing most of the—hey!”

  The orb halted halfway as an invisible force grasped it, and the dragon hurriedly snatched it up before the tiger could pounce on it. “Oi! Stop that!”

  “There’s nothing worth watching in the first round!” Lee Han managed around the palm pressing into his face, his arms flailing towards the orb in the dragon’s grasp. “Nobody who matters lost in an upset, and nobody who went the distance did anything exciting in it. And it’ll take FOREVER to get to the interesting parts—gah! You bastard!”

  “I…said…stoppit!”

  The tiger’s tail, which had been stealthily reaching around behind Bailong Shen, whipped back as the dragon’s own intercepted it. An impromptu slap fight broke out between the two, scales striking against fur as their only free limbs began to spar for ownership of the stone.

  “I have to agree with Lee Han,” Bao said diplomatically, taking the sphere from Shen before the long-time rivals could escalate any further. “The first round alone does make up more than half of the fights. And you can always enjoy it on your own time if it means that much to you.”

  Just as well, too, Chao Ren thought to himself as he felt a weight lessen. His first round was probably his most undignified. Not in defeat, or even effort, but because of the way that he’d been forced to run around the arena like a scared chicken as his opponent lobbed fireball after fireball after him. He’d won in the end, after they’d tired themselves out, but still. It was hardly the sort of thing he’d like to relive in front of so many close acquaintances if possible.

  “Fine, fine,” Bailong Shen acquiesced, pushing Lee Han off. “I suppose that you’ll just have to tell me if there’s any context I’m missing. So, do you know how to use the orb to change the place on the array?”

  “Ah. Lee Han?”

  “Nope. I assumed that Shen knew how.”

  “Wait, do you not?” Bao asked, turning to Bailong Shen. “I thought that you’d been here before?”

  “Oh, I come for the live fights,” Shen said with a dismissive wave. “I usually just leave the array alone.”

  “Well, that might be a bit of a problem then, won’t it?”