Kind Young Master [Progression Fantasy - Cultivation]

The sun was warm against Fushuai's skin, and Yin was far away. He sent power flowing into Moon Step, and the technique was reluctant to respond. He was already cycling to his limbs for qinggong, and barely managed to intercept the first blow. Chen moved fast and wild, but that wildness was false. Underlying the seemingly erratic movements was a deeper layer of training and pattern. His brother favored the Howling Wind Style.

They circled, tested, and clashed.

"Your time away was good for you." Chen drifted to the center of the arena, establishing control. "But you're still gutless."

Spiritual pressure expanded from his brother, and Fushuai pretended to be frozen in place. Another cultivator, still in qi refinement, might have been paralyzed by the display. One of the bystanders whistled, impressed. For all Chen's faults, no one could say he was not strong willed.

The sword drove in again, and Fushuai spun to one side, landing a solid blow against the middle of his back. He stumbled, nearly leaving the arena. When they faced each other again, his face was livid.

"You think you're strong? I'm only toying with you. Now you will see what real cultivation looks like." A new stance, a second pulse of qi. "Ten Winds Death Spiral!"

A perfection technique. Unlike Moon Step, it enhanced the artist's strength and speed to a much greater degree for a much shorter period. It was also one of Chen's favorite skills, and therefore predictable. With his own perfection technique barely usable, Fushuai wouldn't have been able to counter the ensuing flurry of blows, except he already knew where they would land. Goshung had spoken truly. Inexperienced cultivators told you what they would do before they did it with the shape of their intent.

A dozen strikes, two dozen, rang against his staff in a blur, and warmth flowed across his hand. One of his fingers had been cut, but nothing was severed. He saw his opportunity as the technique faded, channeled energy into the earth aspect of his staff, and cracked it against his opponent's forearm.

With an angry shout, Chen switched blade hands and thrust, nearly skewering him. This was no longer an exhibition, if it had ever been one. The engagement continued with renewed intensity, a blur of strikes and blocks that threatened to overwhelm him, until he better captured the rhythm.

Chen and Zhang Sha were at the same stage, but it was soon apparent that their advancement was not of the same calibre. His brother had bloomed too early, cutting both body and qi refinement short. With better resources or the support of a sect, it might not have hindered his progress, but the difference here was clear. After several minutes of heated exchanges, Fushuai had only spent a single thread of his corded qi. Chen was already flagging.

He swept his legs.

"Enough proof. Let this end, Gao Chen."

His brother leapt back to his feet, cutting a spiral with his blade. Fushuai struck his elbow, resulting in an audible snap. Even that injury was not enough to stop the fight. Enraged, Chen switched his grip back to his primary hand, used a technique that allowed him to step on air as if it were solid ground, and attacked from above. The gu-en whirled, denying every possible strike before colliding with the same forearm a second time. Bone cracked, and Chen returned to the stones of the arena, still refusing to yield.

Fushuai dropped his own weapon, grabbed his brother's injured arm, and squeezed until he dropped his jian.

"You dare—"

Chen's exclamation was cut short by a slap to the face. The sound echoed in the courtyard, followed by stiff silence.

"It's over, brother. Be at peace. Defeat is a better tutor than victory."

Chen ripped free of his grip and backed away, though he did not attempt to retrieve his sword. One of the watching cultivators chuckled behind a sleeve, and his face darkened with a fury even greater than he had shown during the battle. His mouth opened, then shut at the sound of their father's voice ringing from the entrance.

"My son, go to your private quarters to contemplate this failure." Gao Ligang had not raised his voice, and yet it carried across the courtyard, enveloping them all. Fushuai felt spiritual pressure ten times stronger than before, emanating from his father. It was so strong that he had to lock his knees to remain upright. The man who had laughed fell to the stones, and the others to their knees. Only the sect member and Zhang Sha remained unaffected. Poor Bai Tu was whimpering pitifully, flat on his belly. Fushuai's father fixed him with his gaze.

"And you. Come inside."

Two of his sisters, Mei Li and Lin, were standing behind the patriarch, their faces bowed. Mother Lifen was there as well, her ageless face creased with worry. Fushuai did as he was commanded, while his companions and the non-family members remained outside. Chen quickly made his way through the entrance hall, averting his gaze, and when the door was shut, Gao Ligang ordered the servants present to retreat as well.

"It's good to see you well," Lifen said, her voice pained, and sister Lin murmured an agreement.

"I wish I could say the same." Out of the public eye, Gao Ligang allowed his anger to show on his face. "You have embarrassed the Gao clan, Fushuai. This is unacceptable."

"He was provoked," his mother said.

"Silence." His aura grew again, threatening to crush them all. Fushuai found he could not breath, but he discovered the strength to speak when he saw his youngest sister trembling.

"Punish me if you must. Your wrath is not for them, Father."

His knees slammed into the marble tiles. He could barely raise his face to meet his father's eyes.

"Have you forgotten yourself, boy? I will not be lectured by you." Despite his words, it was apparent that he had taken control of his aura, and the women were no longer suffering from it. "Do not call me father again. You are not of my line, and you never will be."

Lifen gasped.

His words made no sense. Whatever conflict had been between them, Fushuai had brought honor to their clan by being chosen by Xiao Sheng. From the attitude of the Ashen Sect member, it appeared that the whole city knew of his discipleship. Unless he planned on killing his eldest son himself, it bordered on insanity to treat him this way, when he was now almost assured to one day lead the house.

Old habit won out. "A thousand apologies. I will do as you say."

"Still the same groveler." With a swirl of his robes, Gao Ligang left him kneeling there. Though the pressure was gone, there was something heavier weighing on his heart. It was long seconds before his mother took his arm and helped him up.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"You have come far," Lifen said. "And I am proud to call you my son."

Mei Li spared a glance to be sure they were alone before she spoke. "I didn't think you had it in you, elder brother. Chen deserves worse than he got."

That comment brought a sharp breath out of Lin, whose eyes flicked to his face and then away. Was she afraid of him now? Of all the potential consequences of his actions, that one would sting the worst. The shame came swiftly, realizing that the moment he had the power to do so, he'd begun to behave exactly like the sort of cultivator he'd always despised.

But his father didn't care about that.

"I know I am not the son he wanted to be chosen. But I don't understand this. Chen challenged me, and I beat him. It happens in every clan."

Lifen led him to the table, and they sat together after she motioned for one of the servants peeking out from an alcove the bring them wine.

"Chen is courting the Ash Eater Sect," she said. "You have ruined his chances."

"Then I should apologize." That at least put some of the anger into perspective. He should have known, with the sect member there, what was going on.

"It's his own fault." Mei Li scoffed. "He never would have advanced in their ranks anyway. He isn't skilled enough to support his attitude. They would have beaten him until he was content to be a lifelong outer disciple."

"Even so," Fushuai sighed. "It wasn't my intention to cause problems. I only wanted to see you all again before I went on my way, and to collect some of my things."

"Your pardon, but where are you going?" Lin asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

If he could not be honest with his mother and sisters, then he would have to keep his truths hidden from the entire world. Mei Li, he didn't exactly trust. She was a fairweather friend at best. But now that he was Xiao Sheng's disciple, the most he would have to worry about from her was attempts to use their relationship to seek advantage for herself.

"He sent me to find a place rich in Yin qi to pursue my foundation. I won't see him again until after I have reached the next stage."

A brief flicker of energy passed through his awareness as his mother examined him. "You have awakened your root," she said. "Of course you have. With something like that inside of you, it would be wise to learn to veil it properly."

"I could teach you," Mei Li said quickly. "Father has always praised my veils."

"Many thanks, but I won't be staying that long."

The conversation shifted toward his journey and the time he had spent with the Living Blade. He left Goshung out of his explanations. That would have led to many more questions than he wanted to answer, and some that couldn't be. They shared what their lives had been like in his absence, though little had changed since last winter. His role in the household had been a small one, and daily life had gone on in the usual fashion. Both his sisters were a step closer to foundation themselves, but neither was at the peak of qi refinement. Chen was still the family's shining star.

He couldn't help but wonder what kind of progress they would have made with the same advantages he had been given. Defeating his brother had confirmed all the harsh judgments the Asura had made about "backwater" cultivators. Their methods and attitudes were outdated or outright wrong, and their resources limited. He thanked them for their time and their welcome, then went to his private quarters to retrieve his books. His room hadn't been touched, not even by the servants, and the dry scent of dust pervaded the air.

His collection could hardly be called a library, and after a swift review, he decided there was nothing there he wanted to take with him. He had advanced well beyond the level of any manual he'd been allowed to possess. Still, there were scrolls in the archives that could prove useful. So after collecting another set of clothing, he went there next.

It was smaller than he remembered, and made smaller still by the presence of his father. Gao Ligang stood before the shelves that contained the Gao clan genealogies, hands clasped behind a rod straight back.

"You brought your weapon here? Do you mean to challenge me now?" The anger was gone, but the words were still sharp.

"A thousand apologies. I will be leaving soon, so I kept it with me."

"Good. The sooner you are gone, the better."

Fushuai hesitated. Even knowing he had hurt Chen's chances of joining the local sect, his father's demeanor still baffled him. If nothing else, what he had done to his brother in the courtyard should have shown Gao Ligang that he was becoming just the sort of warrior he had wanted him to be when he was younger.

"I swear I will bring honor to our family."

"You can't." His father didn't turn to face him, didn't shift a single muscle, and yet the air grew heavy. "Nothing you accomplish will ever bring me anything but shame."

"I...don't understand."

"Of course you don't. Your mother obeyed me, at least in this, and did not share the truth with you. But I cannot stomach it any longer. I cannot abide you setting foot in my ancestral home."

"What have I done? The Living Blade chose me. I will make our name famous, and when my training is complete, I will bring riches back to this house along with honors."

"It is not what you have done. It is what you are. Your mother is a skilled deceiver; she already carried you when we were wed, but I did not discover the truth until years later, when I first glimpsed your root."

The revelation struck him as powerfully as if Gao Ligang had unleashed the full force of his spirit. Fushua's hand tightened around his staff, seeking reassurance in its solidity.

"My root is rare, but so is Mei Li's. How can that mean I am not your son?"

Gao Ligang unclasped his hands so he could gesture to the shelves, ten high, all lined with tomes more valuable than their weight in gold. "Our family does not carry Yin in its blood. Neither does Long Lifen. There are some in her clan who could have been your true father, but I will never know with certainty, and it is better that I do not know. I would find an excuse to kill the man, and then there would be war. I allowed you to live because Lifen would have been unmanageable otherwise. And I could not openly disown you without risking the downfall of this house. Raising another man's son, I would have been the joke of Ashen City." His hand fell, and he paused. "Fortunately, your weak will and soft heart provided me a pretext to put you out of favor."

Anger, sudden and hot, burned in his belly, but it was mixed with humiliation. He had been lied to, made to believe he was weaker than he was, less worthy. And yet, in this, he understood his father's position better than his mother's. Why had she married him? Why had she never told her son the truth? Gao Ligang had conducted himself in a manner that was, in many ways, more charitable than many in his position would have. Fushuai had been pushed aside, mocked, but not abused. Not killed by some unfortunate "accident" or unexplained sickness.

"What would you have me do?"

"Leave this house, and never return. Keep whatever honor you gain, whatever riches. I will ask nothing for the time you have spent under my roof other than that you do not use this truth against me. But you are Gao Fushuai no longer. Use whatever name you like, as long as it is not mine."

The silence stretched after this pronouncement, as Fushuai felt a part of himself being torn away. When it was clear that Gao Ligang would say no more, he left the archives and returned to the courtyard without speaking to anyone. The wound was too raw for him to go find his mother.

Zhang Sha, deep in conversation with the Ash Eater Sect member, waved at him. Though he was in no mood to speak to anyone, he joined them.

"If you're finished here, Huang Tu Zi has offered to let us use one of the meditation chambers in Silent Mountain. It's rich in earth qi, perfect for my Path."

Fushuai frowned. "I would prefer we were on our way." Silent Mountain was as good a place as any to find Yin aura, but he no longer wanted to be in this city at all. There would be other environments with the right aura, better ones.

Zhang Sha put an arm around his shoulder. "My friend, consider this a favor to me. Doubly a favor, as Senior Huang is only being so generous because of how impressed he was with your performance."

The sect member inclined his head respectfully. "I understand you can only do as your master wills. But I cannot deny it would benefit me if I were to forge a good relationship with the disciple of the Living Blade."

As distracted as he was, it took Fushuai long moments to piece together why this was happening. Though Zhang Sha's root had an earth aspect, the element had nothing to do with his path. He was trying to help him. It wasn't an offer to be turned away in a sulk.

"A thousand thanks," he said, feeling as if he was wearing a theater mask with nothing behind it. "I'm sure my master would think well of any sect that lent me aid."

"Then it's decided." Huang Tu Zi tapped the emblem on his chest. "The Ash Eaters are honored to host you. Come with me, and I can promise you a better welcome than you received here."

Fushuai flinched at that, but there was no sense in refusing. Despite what he had learned, nothing had changed. His goals remained the same, and his resolve had not wavered. They exited the Gao estate together, and the great doors of the courtyard closed behind him for the last time. Silent Mountain beckoned.