Kind Young Master [Progression Fantasy - Cultivation]

61: Leaving Someone Behind



Ao Lao stood with his hands bound by chains of bone. Not long ago, Zhang Sha had used them to bind beasts in the Lonely Mountain. The young cultivator scowled at them, the bruise under his eye having spread to cover half his face. Their brief scuffle had cracked something, and he had long since run out of curses and threats.

Hou Fen and the other townspeople returned to Sand Orchard, leaving behind many thanks and promises of eternal gratitude. The village elder had looked surprised to see that Lao was still alive, but he was not one to question the will of someone he thought to be a sect leader.

"Get away from me," Lao snapped, as Bai Tu sniffed his ankles. The fox ignored the young man's demands, circling and circling until he tired of it. Then he settled on his haunches beside Lin.

"I'm staying," Mei Li announced.

The others looked to her. Her back was straight, and her jaw was set in preparation for an argument, but no argument was forthcoming.

"Good for you," Zhang Sha said. "See you around the next cycle of the wheel."

Fushuai wasn't sure what to say. His sister had been a reluctant companion on their journey from the beginning. She would be as safe here as she would be anywhere, as long as she did not use their family name.

"Do you intend to make this your home?" he asked.

"For now," she said, one hand absently adjusting her hair.

"There isn't much of value in this region," Lin said. "Tarnish was despoiled, and the qi is as weak as the soil. You won't advance quickly."

Mei Li shrugged. "Advancement isn't everything." She seemed just to notice she was tugging on a lock of her own hair, and dropped her hand. "These mortals need someone to look after them, and it might as well be me."

"Hah. As if you care."

"What happens when another cultivator comes?" Fushuai asked. A month ago, he would not have believed she would accept any sort of responsibility for the well being of the people in a place like Sand Orchard. But the way she had looked, entertaining the children as they traveled...he wasn't certain he had ever seen a smile so genuine when they were growing up together in the Gao household. It was possible he didn't know his sister as well as he had thought.

"If it's someone like that boy," Mei Li said, flapping a hand at Lao, "then I will beat them silly. If it's someone stronger, then I'll either run or I'll seduce them, if they are handsome enough. It's as simple as that."

"Beat me silly?" Lao shouted. "You aren't worthy of being my fifth wife!"

The side of Zhang Sha's hand cracked into the nape of the young man's neck, and he fell to his knees.

"Do you think you can speak that way to an inner disciple?" he demanded. "You are courting death."

Fushuai sent him a sidelong glance. "You're enjoying this too much."

His mouth quirked. "If we're committed to the game, we may as well play."

Ignoring them, Mei Li hugged her sister.

"You know," she said, "you could still come with me instead. Otherwise, you'll be outnumbered."

"One is my elder brother, and I am not worried about the other two. I understand, I think, why you don't want to be a part of this journey. But your way is not my way."

"Will you practice what I showed you?" Fushuai asked.

Mei Li shrugged. "I suppose I won't have much else to do." She had taken well to the Void Dilution method, though like Lin, she'd had no luck imitating his qi braiding. "The problem is, brother, that I could practice it for a year or ten and I would still not have made as much progress as you have in the last month."

"I'm sure that isn't true. You have a rare root, and you are very talented."

"There is a difference between talented and monstrous. If there was any chance of me catching up to you, then I would consider following. But there simply isn't. Lin will see that soon enough, and then she's free to walk back here to stay with me."

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"I don't need to catch him," Lin said. "Each artist's journey is their own. I am not weaker because someone else is stronger."

Mei Li rolled her eyes. "If you say so, little sister."

Zhang Sha nudged their captive with his boot and seemed satisfied that it didn't result in another tirade. "I'm the one you have to catch. He'll be riding my sash all the way to the heavens."

"We both know the heavens aren't where you're going," Mei Li sniffed.

His answering grin was feral. "Before you go, do your brother a favor and watch the prospective disciple for a moment while we discuss what to do with him."

"I don't serve you," she said flatly.

"That's why I said the favor was for your brother."

Zhang Sha turned and motioned for him to follow, and they both descended into the shadow of the hill overlooking Sand Orchard. Then the hollow-eyed cultivator tossed him a storage ring.

"Here," he said. "Everything the kid had. You should take a look at it before you make any decisions."

Fushuai caught the ring, placed it on his finger, and emptied its contents on the grass around them. A flying sword, a few amulets, tokens, and coins. A small stack of manuals, scrolls, and other odds and ends. Two uniforms with clear sect markings. The symbol looked like a silver sash frozen fluttering in the wind.

"Did this all belong to the Steel Ribbon Sect?"

"We may have to beat it out of him," Zhang Sha said, "but I'm sure it did."

"Should we return it?"

"Hah! Oh. Gods above and below. You're not even joking, are you?"

"I am not a thief."

"They were stolen goods when he took them. Now, they are spoils. It's completely different."

"I don't think honor can be as easily split as a hair."

"The folly of youth," Zhang Sha crouched to examine the sword. "I don't blame you for it, but I will correct you when I can. The only reason to return any of this is if you plan on returning the boy as well. These are trinkets for a sect of that size. They'll want to punish him themselves, and if they find out we're harboring their quarry, that is trouble we don't need. I can scrub these markings. None of this was bound deeply enough to track by, or they would have found him themselves already."

"If we returned him to his sect, would they kill him?"

"Hard to say, they might only cut off a foot and force him to serve. A coin toss." He swiped a bronze coin from a pile on the ground and flipped it with his thumb. It spun through the air, then landed in his open palm, swiftly hidden by his other hand.

"Sword or throne?" he asked. "Will you lay your bet?"

"I won't."

"You're no fun." He lifted his hand and revealed the coin had come up back rather than front. The cast image of a jian.

"That proves that he's dead if you take any of this back. Of course, I'm fine with that. The question is whether you are."

"I am hoping his attitude can be improved."

"Unlikely. That wine is already soured."

"Maybe so. I have often wondered, though, what it would be like to have a son."

"You're practically the same age."

"I know. I didn't mean that he would be my son. It's just that I've thought so often about my relationship with Gao Ligang. If my heart was set the day that I was born, or if I am a product of the house in which I grew, those are very different things. What if I had a son? Would they share my heart? What if they grew up without me, or in another man's house?"

"You're talking about yourself now."

"I am not."

"You are. You are wondering whether or not you are more like your true father than like Gao Ligang."

"I would not call the man who played a game of alchemy with my soul a true father. All I am wondering is whether we are made or we are born."

"Both, obviously. What a ridiculous question."

"As he is now, Ao Lao is everything this world wants him to be. If we can make him something else, then I have hope."

The coin clattered back into its pile. "He's a thief, and he'll stab you in the throat the first chance he gets."

"He will have to give me his word."

Zhang Sha rose, taking a step closer. His voice grew rough. "The honor of the thief is no honor at all. How do you think he got these treasures? He was a member of the Steel Ribbon Sect, and he robbed them the first chance he got. His word is nothing. His bond is nothing. He is more beast than cultivator."

Fushuai would not have stated it so harshly, but if Zhang Sha's assumptions were correct, then his point could hardly be debated. Without honor, a man was not a man. The exact nature of that honor, though, was often questioned. Certainly, Fushuai's opinions on the subject were not the most commonly held across the Empire.

"I will not kill a bound captive," he said.

"He won't be any use if we keep him bound. Nor can we. Those chains will break long before he does. They were made for dao seed beasts, not cultivators in their second stage."

"Is there not a way to use someone's own word to bind them? An inscription on the soul?"

"Of course there is, and if you know any friendly deities passing by, we can be sure to ask them for a favor."

"It can't be that rare."

"Maybe your master could do it, but I surely can't."

"What else is there?"

"Kill him."

"Let us pretend that isn't an option."

"Then we poison him."

Fushuai frowned. "How would that help?"

"He would still die, but you wouldn't have to feel bad about it."

"Again, I am searching for solutions that do not end in his immediate death."

Zhang Sha's eyes flashed like ice under the winter sun. "Oh, it would not be immediate." He jerked his head and stepped away. "No. As you wish, Sect Leader, we don't actually have to kill him with it. Just enough poison that he needs me to keep providing him with the antidote to survive."

Fushuai glanced at Zhang Sha's boots. The man often kept his own storage ring on a toe. "Do you have the resources for something like that? This is a long journey."

"Not at all," Zhang Sha said, abruptly cheerful. "But the boy seems rather stupid. I will give him something bitter every morning, and something even more bitter every evening, and we will tell him one is poison and the other is an antidote."

Fushuai blinked, opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he nodded.

"A thousand thanks. It appears the Devouring Death Sect has its first true disciple."


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