Su Yan's eyes lit up. "I've never farmed chives. I'd love to learn."
Li Xiaoke handed him a sickle — ordinary iron, curved inward, wickedly sharp. Su Yan tested the weight. It felt like a weapon.
The bell had been hiding in Su Yan's mind, then darting out, then retreating into Yuan Qi's Inner Realm, then getting kicked out. It drifted forward at last, trembling.
"Master..." it said, voice barely a whisper.
Li Xiaoke studied it for a long moment. "You are... the demon-suppression bell? The one from Little Stone Mountain?"
The bell brightened. "Yes! I have other runes on me now, so you might not recognize — I'm the bronze bell from the stone!"
"Ah." Li Xiaoke laughed, warm and easy. "The bell I used to suppress a renegade celestial. It ran rampant in Yongzhou, slaughtered hundreds. I couldn't kill it, so I sealed it beneath the mountain and hung you there."
He said it casually, the way another man might mention a good day's fishing.
The bell pressed on. "And the demoness Qingbi! You sealed her too! She murdered the loyal and righteous!"
Li Xiaoke's smile flickered. "That... I don't recall so clearly." He turned to Su Yan. "Come, friend. Let's cut chives and talk."
Su Yan watched him. Li Xiaoke was tall, dressed in the old Han style — black robes, red sashes. His mustache was trimmed to perfect symmetry, every hair in place. His nails were clean, clipped to identical lengths. Even walking through the fields, he carried no mud, no green stain, no wrinkle.
A man who demanded perfection. A man who would notice a single flaw across a crowded room.
"For Li Xiaoke," Su Yan thought, "the bell is no longer a beloved treasure. It carries another man's runes. It is imperfect. That will eat at him."
He filed the observation away and bent to cut chives.
"You must choose your seeds carefully," Li Xiaoke said. "Good seeds, plump and full, grow into tall, juicy stalks. The right seed is everything."
"Hard to find?" Su Yan asked.
"Impossible, sometimes. So we breed them. We take the best plants, let them grow without cutting, let them flower and seed. Better than searching every mountainside."
Su Yan glanced at Xue Ying'an. The young man beamed. "My master is a legendary breeder!"
"After breeding," Li Xiaoke continued, "you need good land. Fertile, well-watered, plenty of sunlight. You must fertilize often, guard against beasts. Pigs especially love to root through chive beds. One night of pig-work undoes a season of care."
Su Yan looked at Xue Ying'an again. The boy nodded, earnest as sunrise.
"Then comes the harvest." Li Xiaoke demonstrated, slicing a bundle with a single smooth stroke. "Chives are perennials. Cut them, leave them, and they grow back in twenty days. Cut on sunny days — rainy cutting rots the roots."
He held three fingers above the soil. "Leave this much. It hurts them, but not enough to kill. Don't worry. They heal fast."
Su Yan studied the stubble. "They'll complain. But if we cut evenly, everyone suffers the same, so no one can say we're unfair."
Li Xiaoke laughed, delighted. "You understand immediately! And there's one more step — ash on the wound. Wood ash kills infection, speeds healing. Once the pain fades, they grow better than before."
Su Yan straightened, scanning the fields. "No wonder this place is called Chive Ridge. With you as its master, the name fits."
"You think that's the end of chive wisdom?" Li Xiaoke's eyes sparkled. "The best part is eating them."
He led them up the slope, handing the sickle to Xue Ying'an. Disciples carried the harvested bundles toward the kitchens.
"First, mark your territory. Post signs. Tell the world these chives are yours. If someone tries to steal, talk first, fight only if words fail."
Su Yan nodded. "A man must guard his plot."
"Raw chives are crisp, spicy. They fight on the way down. Fresh and wild." Li Xiaoke's throat worked. "But cooked is better. Grilled, brushed with oil and sauce, squealing on the fire. Bite down, and golden oil runs down your chin."
Yuan Qi swallowed hard. "Is he talking about chives?"
"Stir-fried with meat or egg. Even plain, they carry a meaty savor — not flesh, yet more than vegetable. Dumplings, steamed buns, flatbread. Heavy oil, heavy salt. Divine." Li Xiaoke licked his lips. "Best of all, chop them fine with vermicelli. One mouthful, and you won't sleep tonight."
Yuan Qi asked, "Senior, are you talking about chives?"
Li Xiaoke laughed. "What else?"
"I thought you meant people."
Li Xiaoke recoiled. "Eating people? Preposterous."
Su Yan asked, "Why do we grow and eat chives at all?"
Li Xiaoke smiled. "Chives are delicious. Easy to tend. Cut one batch, another grows. They strengthen the body. Why wouldn't we eat them?"
Su Yan hesitated. "You are talking about chives?"
"Call them what you like." Li Xiaoke strode up the mountain, sleeves billowing.
The bell floated after him, desperate to please, positioning itself to shade his head from the sun.
Su Yan followed, mind racing. The ridge itself was beautiful — strange pines, flying springs, sheer cliffs. But a horizontal ridge crossed a chasm, and beyond it, fog swallowed everything.
Li Xiaoke walked into the mist and vanished. Su Yan followed. The air thickened, then thinned. He stepped through and stopped.
A different sun hung in the sky. Red and black, like infected blood.
The other half of Jiucai Ridge jutted from above, tilted downward, suspended ten miles over a dead plain. Distant mountains floated in the poisoned sky, lakes and oceans suspended upside down.
The air stank of sulfur. Su Yan reached for spiritual energy and found almost nothing.
"This world's spiritual energy is dead," he realized.
He looked back at the chive fields, then at the broken sky. "The cultivators who sealed this world — were they someone else's chives too?"