Unintended Cultivator

As the winter chill started fading from the air, Sen felt the pull east growing stronger. He had thought, well hoped, that he might get more time. With the moment almost on top of him, though, Sen wanted an excuse to stay. Any excuse. He didn’t feel ready or prepared. Surely there were more jian and spear styles to learn, more unarmed combat to master, more something that would let him stay a little longer. Sen heaved a sigh. He knew that was simple fear talking. At first, he’d thought it was fear of other cultivators, but he didn’t think that was it. While Master Feng, Uncle Kho, and Auntie Caihong couldn’t tell him how he did his hiding trick or even exactly why it worked the way it did, they were all very confident about what it did. It let him hide his spiritual presence even from peak nascent soul cultivators. It didn’t do anything to hide his physical presence. If he could break line of sight, though, he could simply walk away or gather shadow until the threat passed. That didn’t remove the threat of more powerful cultivators entirely, but it gave him a fighting chance.

No, Sen suspected that his fear was more mundane than that. He wasn’t afraid of what he knew was out there, powerful cultivators, sects, and spirit beasts. Those things were dangerous, but they were manageable dangers. He was afraid of all the things he didn’t know were out there. Master Feng frequently talked about the things he found that surprised him. Things the old cultivator hadn’t even known existed. It hadn’t stopped happening, even after thousands of years. The fact that most of those recollections ended with some variation of, “So, then I had to cut off its head,” may have played some small role in Sen’s apprehension. Master Feng might have the power to casually end any conflict with a beheading, but Sen didn’t.

Yet, for all his lingering doubts and shapeless fears, Sen prepared. Of course, most of that boiled down to organizing his belongings. There was one thing, or rather one collection of things, that he’d avoided talking about for a long time. He couldn’t put it off anymore. He went to talk to Master Feng, who he found in the kitchen, idly eating his way through some leftovers.

“Master, do you have a moment?”

Master Feng gestured that Sen should come over. Once the older cultivator swallowed a mouthful of food, he gave Sen a small smile. “What’s on your mind, Sen?”

Sen second-guessed himself for a moment before he resolved to push forward. “I need to know what I should do with all of the spirit beast cores. The one from when you, from before I went out to, from…”

“From when I killed all those beasts,” said Master Feng, with a ghost of old pain on his face. “You could give them to Caihong. I’m sure she can make something from them.”

“You don’t want them?”

“No. They aren’t useful to me, except maybe as currency. Even if they were useful, I still wouldn’t want them. I’m not proud of how I behaved that day. I won’t knowingly benefit from that shame.”

Sen was quiet for a moment as he contemplated those words before he gave Master Feng a deep bow.

***

Auntie Caihong waved off the suggestion. “I don’t need them. I rarely use spirit beast cores these days. You keep them.”

Sen fumbled briefly over how to frame the question. “Alright, but what do I do with them?”

“You can sell them off to alchemists. If I were you, I’d find some down-on-its-luck alchemist shop and use those cores to buy a stake in the place. You take a loss at first, but then you’ve got a place you go and visit every so often to top up your funds. Which reminds me.”

Auntie Caihong peeked out the door, checking to see if anyone was nearby. Then, she handed Sen a pouch. He felt the jingle of coins inside as soon as his hand gripped the leather. He tried to hand it back.

“I can’t, Auntie.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s just a little something to tide you over in an emergency. Don’t tell the others, though. They’ll think I’m coddling you.”

Sen protested a few more times, but he could tell that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He put the pouch in his storage ring and promised he wouldn’t mention it.

***

For all his ephemeral concerns, Sen also had one, pressing practical concern about the journey ahead. He found Uncle Kho in the library.

“Uncle Kho?”

“Yes?” The older cultivator asked in a distracted voice.

“Where do I find a spirit-level spear? Is there a specific place I should go to? A specific smith I should talk to?”

Uncle Kho gave Sen a sharp look. “What’s wrong with the one you have?”

Sen blinked rapidly for several seconds. “I just assumed it was a mortal spear.”

“Hmmm. Ming worries about things like weapons becoming crutches. Although, I suppose it’s his job to worry about those things where you’re concerned. You should spend a little time really pushing qi through that spear, though. Get a feel for what it can do. Still, you make a good point. You should know where to go to get new weapons.”

Uncle Kho unrolled his big map of the continent and pointed out half a dozen places spread out over the huge land mass. His finger lingered over one spot located almost dead center on the land mass.

“If you can get there in a reasonable amount of time, this is where you want to go. Ask for Chen Jun Hie. The man is a genius with a hammer and forge. Tell him I sent you. He owes me a bunch of favors. If he doesn’t believe you, tell him I said he owes me for the crane sisters,” said Uncle Kho, amusement brightening his features. “He’ll know I really sent you and cut you a break on the price.”

“Thank you for the advice, Uncle.”

Sen had pulled out his notebook and made notes on the smiths’ names, as well as where to find them. When he looked up, he saw a little frown on Uncle Kho’s face. The man gave the library a suspicious look before he went over and stuck his head out the door. He closed the door and came back over to Sen. With a little grin, he held out a pouch. Sen was pretty sure he knew what was in the pouch and tried to protest.

“Truly, Uncle Kho, it’s not necessary,” said Sen, holding up his hands.

“It’s nothing. Just something to see you through in case you have trouble finding work.”

Additional protests proved just as meaningless with Uncle Kho as they had with Auntie Caihong. Sen reluctantly took the pouch and stored it away.

“Gratitude, Uncle.”

“Like I said, it’s nothing. Just keep it between us or the others will say I’m getting sentimental in my old age.”

Sen wanted to laugh, but he managed to maintain his composure until he was out of earshot.

***

When the day finally arrived, Sen was surprised to discover that his fears had mostly evaporated. He could still feel little tendrils of unease, now and then, but resolve seemed to steal whatever power they held. Sen donned the robes that Auntie Caihong had given him. He lingered over the weapons before he ultimately belted on the mortal jian, storing the spirit-level jian and spear in the storage ring Master Feng had provided. The one that Auntie Caihong had given him was bursting with camping gear, useful tools, medical supplies, the spirit beast cores, and countless other little things that the older cultivators had decided he needed, or might need one day, or might find vaguely useful in increasingly improbable-sounding scenarios. He checked the room over, looking for anything he might have forgotten but found nothing.

He found the three older cultivators waiting for him, breakfast already prepared and waiting on the table. It wasn’t an elaborate meal. Instead, it was hearty and filling, with pork rice porridge, steamed dumplings, and scallion pancakes. They kept the conversation light, asking Sen about when he thought he’d leave from Orchard’s Reach to visit the coast, and if he had any thoughts on where he might travel after that. All three made suggestions, each of which would carry him in a different direction. He smiled and said he’d have to decide after he’d seen the ocean. Then, the meal was over and there was nothing left to do, no more excuses to linger. The older cultivators walked outside with him.

“Sen, one last thing,” said Auntie Caihong.

“Yes, Auntie?”

She held out a large stone vial that was both stoppered and sealed. “In case I don’t see you before, this is for when you’re ready to break through to core formation. I made it using that core that fascinated you so much. It should give you some interesting benefits.”

Sen carefully stored the vial away and bowed. “Thank you.”

Uncle Kho handed Sen a large, wrapped package. “For your grandmother. If she’s what I suspect she is, she’ll appreciate this.”

Sen took the package and stored it away. “Thank you, Uncle Kho.”

“I said I needed to do something nice for that woman,” said Uncle Kho with a big smile. “Now, I have. Travel safely, young Sen. When you get back, perhaps you’ll only be two thousand years too early to defeat me.”

Sen laughed before he gave each of them a brief hug.

“I promise I’ll write if anything interesting happens.”

“Write even if nothing interesting happens,” said Auntie Caihong.

Then, Sen turned to Master Feng, who gestured to the gate in the wall. They left the manor with only one last turn to wave before the forest hid the house from view. The two walked for perhaps ten minutes before Master Feng stopped. Sen wondered if Master Feng knew that he’d finally cleared the lump in his throat, or if it just worked out that way. Master Feng looked Sen up and down and seemed satisfied with what he saw.

“You’ve come a long way in a short time.”

“It’s been almost six years. That only seems like a short time to someone who’s lived for as long as you, master. It’s a long time for everyone else.”

Master Feng snorted. “I suppose it is. This is where I’ll leave you. Just one or two bits of business to wrap up.”

A box that looked very similar to the one that the old cultivator had given to Grandmother Lu appeared in Master Feng’s hand. He held it out to Sen.

“Master?”

“For your grandmother. I commissioned a few more pills for her. If anyone but Caihong had made them, I’d have said I’d been wildly overcharged. There are instructions in there.”

Sen eyed the box suspiciously. “What are they?”

The same mischievous gleam that Sen saw in his master’s eyes from time to time reappeared, but the old cultivator said nothing. Sen shook his head and put the box away. When he looked back up, his master was holding out a pouch, a very familiar style of pouch. Sen engaged in the usual, useless protests, but ultimately ended up with the pouch in his hands.

“A lot can happen out on the road,” said Master Feng. “You should always have something to fall back on. Just don’t tell Jaw-Long or Caihong. They’d never let me live it down. It’d be a thousand years of jokes about how the mighty Feng Ming has gone soft.”

“Our secret,” Sen promised.

The two traded bows, and then Feng watched as Sen disappeared down the mountain and entered a whole new chapter of his life. A few minutes later, Jaw-Long appeared.

“Are you staying, old friend?”

Feng’s eyes never left the spot where Sen had disappeared into the trees. He nodded to Jaw-Long.

“For a little while, I think. There is something wrong with the spirit beasts on this mountain. I mean to work out what it is and deal with the problem.”

“I thought you might follow along in Sen’s wake and spy on the poor boy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“So, you’re really going to let him go off by himself?”

“Don’t be insane. I’m not going to spy on him. I have people for that.”

Jaw-Long threw back his head and laughed. “Come on, then. Let’s go figure out your spirit beast mystery.”