Dragon's Descent [Xianxia, Reverse Cultivation]

The Autumn Equinox celebration had never before required a betting pool, but desperate times bred creative solutions.

Xiaolong discovered this development while making her final preparations, when Ming Lian appeared at her door with the furtive manner of someone trafficking in illicit vegetables.

"I probably shouldn't tell you this," he began, which immediately guaranteed he would tell her everything, "but there's been some... unofficial wagering... regarding today's revelation."

"Wagering on what, exactly?"

Ming Lian shifted uncomfortably, as if the question had physical weight. "Your true nature. The odds started reasonable—mountain spirit was favored at three-to-one, reincarnated sage at five-to-one—but they've gotten increasingly creative."

"How creative?"

"Someone bet actual money on 'sentient tea kettle that achieved human form through prolonged exposure to cultivation energy.'" Ming Lian paused. "Elder Disciple Wan put down serious coin on 'time-traveling descendant of the sect founder.' And don't ask me about Junior Sister Yimu's theory regarding animated library scrolls, because I lack the vocabulary to explain it diplomatically."

Xiaolong stared at him. "You're telling me the entire sect has been gambling on my identity?"

"Not the entire sect," Ming Lian protested. "Just... most of it. The elders are officially above such things, though I did catch Elder Liu making notes that looked suspiciously like odds calculations."

She should have been offended. Dragons traditionally took their dignity seriously, and being reduced to objects of casual speculation might have warranted territorial displeasure under normal circumstances.

Instead, she found herself fighting laughter.

"What did you bet on?" she asked.

Ming Lian's expression grew sheepish. "Phoenix. I figured if you were going for maximum dramatic impact, fire-bird seemed appropriate. Though in hindsight, you're too comfortable around water for that to make sense."

"Sensible reasoning."

"Thank you. I try to lose money intelligently."

The conversation suggested that today's revelation might face an audience already primed for entertainment rather than solemn religious experience. This realization brought unexpected relief—it was far easier to address curious speculation than awed worship.

"Ming Lian," she said, "how would the sect react if my true nature turned out to be something... significant... but not necessarily mystical in the way they expect?"

"Define significant."

"Old. Powerful. Perhaps more directly connected to the cultivation world than current theories suggest."

Ming Lian considered this carefully. "Honestly? I think most people would be relieved. The wild theories have gotten exhausting. Concrete truth, even extraordinary truth, feels more manageable than endless speculation."

"Even if that truth changes how they need to interact with me?"

"Especially then. Right now, nobody knows what protocol applies. Are you a guest? A teacher? A potential ally? Some kind of divine inspector? People are improvising social etiquette, and it shows."

This observation aligned with her own experience. The sect's awkward courtesy reflected genuine uncertainty rather than calculated distance. They wanted to treat her appropriately but lacked the framework to determine what appropriate meant.

"Thank you for the warning about the betting pool," she said.

"Thank you for not being offended by it. Though now I'm wondering if I should change my bet to something more... archaeologically impressive."

"Too late for second thoughts, Ming Lian."

He grinned and departed, leaving Xiaolong to contemplate how dragon dignity had somehow evolved into amusement at human gambling habits.

Li Feng arrived shortly afterward, his formal ceremony robes lending him the sort of authority that suggested today's proceedings carried official weight.

"Elder Wei wanted me to confirm the format one final time," he said. "You're comfortable with the guessing approach?"

"More comfortable than formal presentation or dramatic revelation," she replied. "It allows everyone to participate rather than simply observe."

"And the winner's wish?"

"Within reasonable bounds, yes. I suspect whoever guesses correctly will ask for something practical rather than cosmic intervention."

Li Feng's smile suggested he had his own theories about potential outcomes. "Shall we?"

The main ceremony hall had been arranged for educational gathering rather than religious observance. Cushions formed a large circle around a central area where Xiaolong would address the assembled sect. The seating arrangement emphasized community discussion over hierarchical presentation, though she noted that the elders' positions still commanded optimal viewing angles.

The attendance exceeded expectations. Every sect member who could reasonably attend had found compelling reasons to be present. Even Master Zhen had emerged from his gardens, his clothes still bearing traces of potting soil despite obvious efforts at formal preparation.

Elder Wei rose to provide opening remarks, his tone striking the diplomatic balance between ceremony and casual gathering.

"Today marks a special occasion in our sect's history," he began. "Our honored guest, Daoist Xiaolong, has graciously agreed to share insights about her background and cultivation methods. Her presence among us has enriched our understanding of the diverse paths that lead to wisdom."

Polite applause followed, though Xiaolong detected undercurrents of anticipation that had little to do with educational lectures.

"However," Elder Wei continued with a slight smile, "Daoist Xiaolong has requested to conduct today's discussion in her own manner. I yield the floor to our distinguished friend."

More applause, this time carrying genuine warmth rather than diplomatic courtesy.

Xiaolong rose and moved to the center of the circle, taking a moment to study the faces around her. These were people she had lived among, worked beside, shared meals with. Whatever happened next would either deepen those connections or fundamentally alter them.

"Thank you all for your patience over recent weeks," she began, her voice carrying easily through the chamber. "I'm aware that my presence has raised questions about my background and cultivation methods. Today, I'd like to address those questions directly."

A rustle of shifting positions indicated heightened attention.

"Rather than simply telling you what you wish to know, I propose a game." She paused, allowing the word to register. "I invite you to guess my true nature. Whoever comes closest to the truth will receive one favor from me—within reasonable bounds, of course."

The hall erupted in excited murmurs as people exchanged glances and whispered rapid consultations. Several disciples looked stricken as they presumably remembered their betting pool commitments.

"I'll provide hints based on your guesses," Xiaolong continued once the noise subsided. "But I ask that you consider your questions carefully. Some truths are more easily spoken than others."

Elder Wei gestured for volunteers to begin the questioning.

Junior Disciple Chen raised his hand with the enthusiasm of someone determined to redeem himself after weeks of awkward encounters.

"Are you a mountain spirit?" he asked, his voice carrying boyish excitement. "You seem to have natural authority over earth and stone."

"An interesting guess," Xiaolong replied diplomatically. "I do have some affinity for geological matters, but my connection to mountains is more... historical... than spiritual."

Chen's face fell slightly, though he nodded as if this information confirmed private theories.

Senior Sister Huo tried next. "A reincarnated cultivator from ancient times? Your knowledge of classical techniques suggests extensive study or personal experience with methods that predate our sect."

"Closer," Xiaolong acknowledged. "Though reincarnation implies I've died, which is... inaccurate."

This admission caused another stir of whispered speculation. If she possessed ancient knowledge without reincarnation, the implications grew more intriguing.

Elder Disciple Wan stood with the confident bearing of someone who had given this question considerable thought.

"An immortal cultivator who has chosen to live among mortals for reasons of your own," he declared. "Your power clearly exceeds normal cultivation levels, but your behavior suggests genuine interest in our community rather than divine obligation."

"Very perceptive," Xiaolong said, offering him an encouraging smile. "You're correct about the power levels and the genuine interest. The immortal part... well, that depends on how you define immortality."

Several pairs of eyes widened at this statement.

Ming Lian, for his part, apparently felt that his bet was already lost, since he followed his line of logic.

"A Phoenix—fiery enough to dance like an immortal." That he kept a straight face was the most remarkable aspect of the guess. A few people sniggered, hiding their amusement with polite coughs.

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Li Feng made a concerted effort to keep his expression neutral, avoiding Xiaolong's gaze until he felt confident in his control over his facial muscles.

"You flatter me, Elder Disciple," Xiaolong replied serenely. "But while I can appreciate the appeal of a resplendent firebird, I lack the penchant for dramatic rebirth associated with that mythology."

Some disciples made quiet note of this, while others clearly wished this would be the case.

The questions continued for nearly an hour, each guess revealing as much about the questioner's assumptions as about Xiaolong's nature. Master Zhen wondered if she was some form of evolved plant consciousness. Junior Sister Mei proposed that she might be a living formation array given human shape. One particularly creative disciple suggested she could be the personification of the sect's collective cultivation energy.

None of them guessed correctly, though several orbited close enough to make her wonder how long it would take someone to reach the obvious conclusion.

The breakthrough came from an unexpected source.

Meihua—the junior disciple whose perfectionist tendencies had initially annoyed Xiaolong through their rigid adherence to protocol—raised her hand with the careful determination of someone who had been thinking rather than guessing.

"Honored Daoist Xiaolong," she began, her voice carrying the formal precision that characterized all her speech, "may I ask a series of related questions rather than making a single guess?"

"Certainly."

Meihua stood and clasped her hands behind her back, her posture suggesting this was a formal presentation rather than casual inquiry.

"First: Your spiritual pressure, when unguarded, has qualities that don't match any known cultivation method or spiritual entity type. It's too vast, too... ancient... for human cultivation, but too structured for natural spirits."

Xiaolong nodded, impressed by the girl's analytical approach.

"Second: Your appearance and manner suggest a being who is not only beyond humanity, but who has observed it over time. You move with the certainty of someone who knows our ways but considers them from an outside perspective."

"Perceptive," Xiaolong acknowledged.

"Third: Your physical capabilities and spiritual reserves exceed what should be possible for your apparent age and cultivation level, yet you demonstrate deliberate restraint rather than natural limitation."

"Very astute observations."

"Fourth: Your behavior patterns." Meihua's voice grew more confident as she built her case. "You display territorial instincts—subtle positioning during gatherings, the way you unconsciously monitor entrances and exits, your protective response to threats against the sect. But unlike spirits, who are tied to specific locations, your territoriality is... portable. It follows your chosen affiliations."

Xiaolong's eyebrows rose slightly. The girl was more observant than she'd realized.

"Fifth: Your elemental interactions. Most powerful beings specialize—fire creatures excel with flame, water spirits command rivers, earth elementals move stone. You demonstrate equal facility with all elements, but more tellingly, you approach them as if they're subjects rather than partners. Not dominance exactly, but... expectation of acknowledgment."

"And your final observation?"

Meihua's cheeks reddened slightly, but her voice remained steady. "The prismatic effects. During the water-gathering ceremony, when you were emotional, light refracted around you in patterns that resembled scales. And... and last week, when Senior Brother Wang startled you during meditation, your pupils contracted vertically for just a moment."

The hall had grown completely silent. Even Master Zhen had stopped scribbling notes.

"Based on these factors, combined with your obvious non-human nature and your apparent age, I believe you are a dragon."

The silence that followed her announcement stretched like a held breath. Every face in the chamber turned toward Xiaolong, awaiting her reaction.

She considered Meihua for a long moment, then allowed herself a measured smile.

"Congratulations," she said simply. "You win."

The explosion of reaction that followed nearly lifted the roof.

Disciples leaped to their feet, shouting questions and exclamations. Several people applauded as if witnessing a particularly impressive magic trick. Ming Lian could be heard mourning his lost bet with theatrical despair. Even the elders seemed unable to restrain themselves from excited commentary.

In the midst of this chaos, Meihua stood like an island of stillness. Her face, normally so tightly controlled, held an expression of mingled vindication and dazed shock.

"You're... You actually are..."

"A dragon, yes."

Elder Wei raised his hand for quiet, his authority eventually restoring some semblance of order.

"A dragon," he said, his tone carrying equal parts disbelief and delight. "That... explains several administrative challenges we've been facing."

"Indeed it does," Elder Liu agreed. "Though it creates new ones as well."

"What kind of dragon?" called out Junior Disciple Chen, apparently recovering quickly from surprise. "Are you one of the great territorial dragons from the classical texts?"

"Gold dragon or silver dragon?" asked someone else.

"How old are you exactly?" added a third voice.

"Can you actually transform into dragon shape?" wondered a fourth.

Xiaolong raised her own hand for quiet, amused by their rapid adaptation to the situation.

"One question at a time, please. Yes, I am what the classical texts would call a territorial dragon, though I prefer 'prismatic dragon' as a more accurate description. I have affinity for all elemental types rather than specializing in one. I am... considerably older than anyone in this room. And yes, I can transform, though I prefer this shape for daily interaction."

"Why?" asked Senior Sister Huo. "Why choose human form? Why live among us instead of maintaining your own territory?"

The question struck at the heart of her reverse cultivation journey, touching on motivations she wasn't entirely sure she could explain clearly.

"Because," she said slowly, "I discovered that power without connection is a particularly luxurious form of imprisonment. You've taught me that strength shared is more valuable than strength hoarded."

The hall fell quiet as people absorbed this explanation. Li Feng's gaze met hers across the space, offering the wordless affirmation that came from shared experience and earned understanding.

"So," Ming Lian said, breaking the contemplative moment with a characteristic attempt at levity, "does this mean we need to start calling you 'Your Dragonship' or something equally ridiculous?"

Xiaolong's laughter dispelled any lingering tension. "Please don't. I chose to be here as myself, not as a representative of dragon hierarchy. Continue treating me as you have been—just perhaps with slightly less tiptoeing around my feelings."

"That we can manage," Elder Wei assured her. "Though I suspect there will be an adjustment period as people become comfortable with the new information."

"Speaking of which," Elder Liu interjected, "what about Meihua's wish?"

All attention turned to the young disciple, who had remained standing throughout the chaos following her correct guess. She seemed unprepared for this focus, her composure wavering for a moment before she steadied herself with a deep breath.

"Honored... Elder... Dragon..." she began, clearly struggling with appropriate address.

"Xiaolong is fine," she assured the girl. "What would you like?"

Meihua straightened her shoulders and delivered her request with the unwavering confidence of someone who had already considered all possible objections.

"I would like to become your first disciple."

The silence that followed could have preserved fish for winter.

Xiaolong stared at the girl, her mind suddenly blank as a fresh scroll. In all her careful consideration of possible wishes—requests for cultivation guidance, rare materials, demonstrations of power, even personal favors—the idea that someone might want to formalize a teaching relationship had never occurred to her.

Dragons didn't take disciples. Dragons accumulated territory, knowledge, treasure, and occasionally temporary allies. The concept of accepting responsibility for another being's development over an extended period went against every instinct her species had evolved.

Yet here stood Meihua, her earnest face radiating the sort of determined hope that made refusal seem tantamount to kicking puppies.

"I..." Xiaolong began, then stopped. Every eye in the hall watched her with fascination, waiting to see how a dragon would respond to such an unprecedented request. The weight of public expectation pressed against her like a physical force.

"That is," she tried again, her usual composure deserting her entirely. "The implications of such an arrangement..."

"I've considered the implications," Meihua interrupted with respectful firmness. "You possess knowledge and perspective that no human teacher could provide. Your analytical methods, your understanding of cultivation principles, your unique approach to problem-solving—these represent learning opportunities that may never arise again."

The girl had clearly prepared this argument well in advance, probably while her fellow disciples focused on solving the mystery rather than considering its consequences.

"Besides," Meihua added, her voice carrying a hint of very un-perfectionist-like cunning, "you did say any wish within reasonable bounds."

Elder Wei's cough might have concealed laughter. "She has a point about the terms of the agreement."

"Technically accurate," Elder Liu agreed, her expression entirely too neutral. "Though perhaps the phrase 'reasonable bounds' requires additional refinement in future negotiations."

Xiaolong could only stare, her thoughts spinning like autumn leaves in a windstorm. She looked around the circle of expectant faces, noting varying degrees of amusement, curiosity, and what might have been envy from other disciples who were probably realizing they should have solved the puzzle faster.

Li Feng's expression carried warmth tinged with sympathy for her predicament, but no rescue was forthcoming. This was her decision to make.

"I have never taken a disciple," she said slowly, testing the words for their unfamiliarity. "I'm not certain I know how to be a proper teacher."

"Then we'll figure it out together," Meihua replied without hesitation. "Improvement through experimentation."

The request transformed what had been a simple guessing game into something approaching a formal ceremony. Accepting would create precedent, establish new relationships within the sect's hierarchy, and commit her to responsibilities she didn't entirely understand.

Refusing would disappoint someone whose analytical skills had earned legitimate respect, while also suggesting that her promises carried conditions she hadn't specified.

"Very well," Xiaolong said, the words emerging before her conscious mind had finished weighing all the implications. "I accept you as my first disciple, with the understanding that we're both learning what such a relationship should look like."

The hall erupted in applause and excited chatter. Meihua's smile could have rivaled the sunset for brilliant radiance, and several other disciples looked as though they were reconsidering their own betting pool strategies.

"This is going to be interesting," Ming Lian announced to no one in particular. "A perfectionist disciple and a dragon master. I give it three days before something spectacular goes wrong."

"I give it two days before something spectacular goes right," Li Feng countered, his quiet confidence carrying equal conviction.

"I'll take that bet," Ming Lian agreed. "Two days, three at most. Mark my words."

As the formal gathering dissolved into smaller conversations and excited discussions, Xiaolong noticed the subtle but definitive shift in the sect's social atmosphere. People approached her now with curiosity rather than uncertainty, their questions direct rather than diplomatically veiled.

The betting pool, she learned later, had been won by no one—dragons hadn't even appeared on the list of possibilities. Ming Lian declared this outcome satisfying proof that reality exceeded imagination, though he still mourned his phoenix bet.

Most importantly, the artificial distance that had grown between her and the sect members began dissolving immediately. Knowing what she was provided the framework they had needed for natural interaction.

Li Feng found her that evening in the gardens, where she sat beside a fountain that had spontaneously improved itself in response to her presence.

"How do you feel?" he asked, settling beside her on the stone bench.

"Relieved," she answered. "And confused. And intrigued."

"That's quite a combination."

"I expected fear or reverence after my announcement, but the sect accepted it without hesitation. I'm not sure how to interpret that level of trust."

"Perhaps it's easier to accept strangeness they can see than unknown possibilities," Li Feng suggested.

"And taking a disciple... I wonder if I'll live up to her expectations."

"Knowing you, that won't be a problem. Technically, I was your unofficial first disciple after our first encounter. You guided me out of caution and curiosity, and our relationship has evolved. This new one may do the same."

Their conversation drifted on, following the currents of emotion and idea that only true privacy afforded. When their talk subsided and the moon had begun its climb, they remained side by side, sharing silence and the contentment that came from simple being together.