Kind Young Master [Progression Fantasy - Cultivation]

Dog Month (September)

A pulse of will, and a crack formed in the center of the nameless goddess.

Fushuai sat on his heels facing the headless statue. The gu-en floated in front of him, suspended by threads of Yin. The elemental cores had dissolved into ghostwater, becoming an alloy as surely as the five metals had. The result, however, was not as indistinguishable a mass as it appeared to the eye. Metal ran throughout, of course, and earth was heaviest on either end of the staff. Along the spine, wood aspect gave it a springiness, while fire and water had been spun together in a spiritual helix. When it had first been made, Fushuai's perception was not yet advanced enough to understand the true quality of his work.

It would be ranked as a mid-grade treasure, if not high-grade, by his estimation. A remarkable boon for someone who had not yet reached foundation formation stage. It was the sort of thing the heir to a great family might have carried as a mark of their status. For several days, he had done nothing but contemplate its structure, devising how best to accomplish what Xiao Sheng had with such ease before disappearing.

Pushing energy and intent outside of his body had not come naturally, but it was the basis for a thousand techniques, and a thousand steps on the path toward ascension. He renewed his focus, channeled a thread of qi into the staff, and empowered its earth aspect much as he would have activated one of his own techniques.

Energy exploded from the staff in an expanding line, striking the statue, passing it on either side, and spending itself against the back columns of the shrine. Stone snapped and crumbled, and the top half of the statue scraped off its base and fell toward him. Fushuai caught it with the Threads of Still Night, holding it in place above his gu-en.

That had not been what he meant to do, but it was something.

He could not manipulate the five basic auras as another cultivator would. And using pure Yin to crush stone would have been inefficient, to say the least. He sent energy from his core through the staff to the stone, and finally, it answered. The top half of the statue crumbled as if it were sand. After that, reducing the rest of the shrine to dust was the work of minutes.

Zhang Sha returned from gathering herbs to find him admiring his own handiwork. "That's more dramatic than I imagined."

"I wanted to make it as if it had never been."

"I'm sure your master will be pleased." Bai Tu trotted warily. The fox had no affection for him, treating the more senior cultivator like a threat to be monitored. "Have you managed to touch the other elements, or only stone?"

Fushuai spun his staff, each end trailing a line of dark blue flame, and Zhang Sha raised an eyebrow. "Who is that going to fool?"

The staff stilled, vibrating in his palm as he planted it in the grassy soil. "What's more likely, that I am a cultivator with a mixed root, or a pure Yin cultivator pretending to have normal qi aspects by channeling my intent through a treasure more advanced than I am?"

"I see your point."

It wouldn't fool anyone advanced enough to know the difference, but disguising the nature of his spiritual root was only a part of the reason for this exercise. The staff made him a more capable and versatile fighter by far.

Zhang Sha frowned. "They may see you as a weakling. Some poor lout with a withered five-petal root. It could lead to more challenges, rather than fewer."

"It is never my intent to cause offense."

"Hah. You haven't spent enough time as a wandering cultivator. It won't be a matter of causing offense. Half the sects will see us as practice dummies."

"Will this make a difference?" The silk pouch Xiao Sheng had left behind contained a few restorative pills along with a wooden sect emblem. He held it up.

A lengthy pause. "I have no idea what that is."

"Isn't it a sect emblem?" The symbol wasn't one he recognized, either as a mark of a group or a regular character. It looked like random strokes, as if someone had half remembered the character for "spider" or "whirlpool" without quite managing either. "Could it be the Endless River Sect? My master was once a member."

"Endless River is a major faction. That isn't their sign. And if it were, it wouldn't help you to wave it around. Sects don't appreciate outsiders using their name."

Fushuai turned the emblem over in his hand, looking for an answer that wasn't there. "There's no formation script, and it doesn't feel like a treasure. I wonder why he gave it to me."

"You know your master better than I do." He looked around the clearing. "Now are we finished here, or do you need to sweep all this dust away?"

"The wind will take it," Fushuai said. "We can go."

The shrine was now a mound of fine gray dust, some of it already lifting on the breeze. When rain came, some of it would wash away, and some would stick and harden when it dried. Either way, it would not have the appearance of a manmade structure. His little burdens, the seven stones he had carried with him up the mountain, remained to one side. He picked the smallest of them up and placed it in a pouch as a keepsake.

They journeyed down the mountain together, taking it at a run. While his master had given him no particular deadline, he saw no reason to fall into leisure simply because he was no longer under the direct instruction of an Asura or a living legend. Zhang Sha kept up well enough; his knee had healed quickly, and his foundation-hardened body was more than a match for Fushuai in a contest of pure endurance. It was Bai Tu who struggled. So after a few hours, they dropped the pace, and a few hours after that, Fushuai had the fox ride on his back.

For his part, Bai Tu seemed to prefer that form of travel.

Zhang Sha called for a stop in the middle of the night. "You don't sleep enough. At least not enough for me."

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They were passing through a stand of aspens, the leaves already turning to shades of heatless fire. Fushuai balanced on an unruly root and looked back. "We can stop for a few hours in the morning."

"Your pet is already napping on your shoulders. Besides that, if you intend to visit civilization, you'll have to get used to having your days be days and nights be nights again. No town worth the name is going to let you through the gates after moonrise."

"My energy work is most effective at night."

"I know. But that's life. We'll get you a parasol so you can cycle in the shade."

Fushuai squeezed his gu-en in annoyance, then released the feeling in a breath. Most of their time would be spent in the wilderness, but no one would trust a wandering cultivator who refused to act in the light of the sun. He decided to shift his perspective. Too much Yang made cycling more challenging, and challenge was necessary for growth.

"Alright," he said. "I'll make dinner."

"Anything but congee. I have meat."

"What's wrong with congee?"

"Too much rice dulls the spirit."

Fushuai doubted that, but they dined on mixed vegetables and venison instead. Zhang Sha insisted they sleep in shifts, and when morning came, they set out again.

The journey to Lonely Mountain had seemed endless and trying, the pace gruelling for one still in body refinement. Fushuai had no idea how quickly Xiao Sheng could move if he was truly hurried, but the difference he saw in himself from then to now gave him some small idea. They rushed down the mountain like water down a fall, leaping gorges, scattering winding mists, and running across treetops when it suited them. Bai Tu did his best to follow, but it wasn't a question of will. His pure body development was insufficient.

"Give him the hunger elixir," Zhang Sha said when they stopped again. "I know you're carrying one. If you're going to keep him, you may as well speed his advancement."

"I won't make him into a monster," Fushuai said harshly. They were sitting on a blanket of moss that covered a boulder the size of a house. The fox in question lazed beside them, panting, unaware that he was being discussed.

His companion's brows drew together. "That is not what I meant. Hunger aura is not enough to make a beast into a chimera. Besides, it is the most convenient form of qi for an animal to cultivate. Straightforward and always available. You have the elixir already, so unless you want to take it yourself, you may as well give it to him."

Fushuai looked at the fox, who pricked his ears, finally listening. "I want you to develop on your own, little one. Freely. Do you understand?"

Bai Tu yipped at him.

"Absurd," Zhang Sha said. "He can't understand you, and if you don't give him anything, it will be years before he develops a seed, if at all."

Fushuai fixed him with a calm gaze. After several minutes of this, the older cultivator held up his hands in surrender.

"Fine. He's your beast. Ruin him however you like."

***

Ashen City was both like and unlike what he remembered. The larger estates stood on raised hills, mostly hidden by gates and walls, with the homes and businesses of mortals lining the streets beneath them. Wood instead of stone. The dwellings of commoners and cultivators reflected the lives they lived, permanence against impermanence. Zhang Sha had been correct in assuming that arriving at night would have led to being stopped. But with the sun over the Silent Mountain, they were let through with hardly a glance.

Bai Tu stayed close to his heels, ears back and tail down.

"You've never seen so many people, have you?" Fushuai asked him. The fox looked up at his voice, and then went back to scanning the street ahead. The background hum of human voices made them both uneasy. He had been gone less than a year, barely a blink in the lives of some cultivators, but he had become accustomed to the stillness and silence of the wild. The smell, also, was more overbearing than he remembered. The scents of food, sweat, and refuse. The presence of the Ash Eater Sect ensured the streets were kept clean and orderly, but the simple fact of having thousands of human lives play out in close proximity resulted in a faint miasma that wasn't present in the wider world.

"It's that hill you want, isn't it?" Zhang Sha nodded toward the tallest of the shadows looming behind the city. Silent Mountain was no hill by any means, except when compared with the Spine of the World. As a child, Fushuai would have had trouble imagining anything bigger. Now, he knew how wrong he'd been.

"I'd like to visit my family first. You don't have to accompany me."

"Miss the return of their most fortunate son? Never. I haven't had a rich meal in too long. What's wrong with your face?"

Fushuai took a breath to master his expression. "Nothing. They may not be as welcoming as you assume."

Zhang Sha grinned. "Even better. I could do with some entertainment."

The servants at the gates did not know quite what to make of his arrival. But it seemed that his father had not explicitly ordered them to bar his entry, and they couldn't otherwise deny the eldest son of the house and his guest. The courtyard beyond had been recently swept, and brother Chen was using the space for training. Three other young cultivators were with him, who appeared to be sparring in turns. One wore the robes of the Ash Eater sect, red and black, with an emblem like spilled ink over a stylized peak.

Engaged as he was, he did not immediately note their arrival, but the sect member did. He eyed them curiously, and said nothing.

Fushuai tried to lead Zhang Sha around the courtyard behind his brother's back. He would have preferred if Chen had not been the first one to see him, but he was not blessed with such fortune.

"Junior brother! You've returned to us! In shame, yes?"

Two insults in a single breath. But Fushuai no longer carried the bitterness he had when he left. His jaw did not tighten, and there was no anger rising in his chest. Technically, he was junior to Chen, who was still a stage above him. As for the last comment, the truth of that would speak for itself soon enough.

"I have been given leave by my master to find a suitable location for a period of closed-door cultivation." That was the easiest way to explain it. "I wanted to pay my respects to Father before I leave, as it may be years before I can spare the time to visit again."

The fight had ended, and Chen's opponent was drying himself off while the others listened with interest.

The sect member spoke up. "You're the eldest son, aren't you? Didn't you leave with the Living Blade?"

"Yes," Fushuai was watching his brother, whose face was heating by the moment. "I'm afraid I can't stay long." He would have preferred not to draw the interest of the local sect, but there was no accounting for bad luck.

"You aren't even carrying a sword!" Chen burst out. "What kind of disciple are you? Everyone knows the Sage of the Spiritual Sword path uses a jian. He rejected you, didn't he? That's why you're here with this, what? Some sickly wandering cultivator?"

"Hah. That's about right."

"What I told you was true," Fushuai said calmly. "I have not been rejected." He had stopped when he was addressed, and now regretted it. When he took another step toward the entrance, Chen spoke again.

"Prove it. Show me what you've learned, junior brother."

"There is no reason for us to fight."

"There's every reason." Chen appeared in front of him. He'd used a movement technique to increase his speed. "You're not going in until you prove to me you haven't disgraced our name."

"This is foolish."

"I think he has the right of it," Zhang Sha said. "Listen to your senior brother, Fushuai. He's issued a challenge, and there is no taking it back now."

A scathing glance did nothing to dampen his amusement. And Chen, too, caught up in his performance, clearly didn't realize he was the one being pushed into a corner.

Fushuai knelt to pick up Bai Tu and pressed the animal into Zhang Sha's arms.

"Hold my fox." He worried that the beast might try to involve himself to protect him. With that, he left two bewildered companions to take one corner of the courtyard as his own.

Chen was grinning as he took up the opposite end, and the cultivators he had been training with looked as if their afternoons had just become vastly more interesting.

"Any last words, junior brother?"

"Yes, a thousand apologies. When I broke your arm, it was a mistake."

The grin became a snarl. "That was a long time ago. Are you still crying yourself to sleep?"

It was like someone else had taken his tongue; he couldn't stop himself.

"No. What I meant was, I should have broken both of them."

Chen's jian flashed.