Unintended Cultivator

Chapter 58: Parting Ways (2)

As winter took full hold, Sen started thinking more and more about where he would go. He knew his first step would be Orchard’s Reach to see Grandmother Lu. He expected she’d want him to stay for a few days, assuming she still lived. He’d said as much to Master Feng. The old cultivator expressed the same, strange confidence that he always did when Sen expressed concerns that he might get back too late.

“She’ll be there,” said Master Feng.

“You always say that. Do you check in on her when you go away?”

“I don’t need to. She’s old, Sen, but she wasn’t hovering at the border of death even when she was living in that hovel. She’s had years of a safe home and enough to eat. I expect that you’ll find her quite well.”

Sen had frowned at the explanation. It was a reasonable answer, a practical answer, the kind of answer that Sen couldn’t dispute. Yet, Sen was also certain that Master Feng had made the answer up on the spot. He was too confident that she would still be alive. It was like he had some other reason for thinking that way, but Sen wasn’t sure what it could be. He was also certain that Master Feng had no intention of revealing his true thoughts on the matter. He’d had years of opportunities and taken none of them. A part of Sen wondered if Master Feng was planning some kind of joke. While the old cultivator could be almost painfully serious at times, Sen had seen a mischievous gleam in his master’s eyes one time too many. The problem was, again, that Sen couldn’t see what kind of joke that man might be planning if there even was a joke.

Accepting that he wasn’t going to get any more information, he looked down at the map. His goal was ultimately the ocean, but there was a lot of coastline to pick from. There was a number of cities and town on the coast. He could go to any of them, but it seemed foolish to travel farther than necessary just to see the ocean. Instead, he looked for the piece of civilization closest to the coast that was also the nearest to them. He plopped a finger down on the map over a spot marked at Tide’s Rest. Master Feng looked down at where Sen’s finger had landed and sniffed.

“Why go there?”

“I want to see the ocean, but I don’t want to have to track through countless miles of wilderness and spirit beasts to do it. That place is on the coast. It’s nearby.”

Sen paused then and mentally calculated the distance as Uncle Kho had taught him to do with the map. Tide’s Rest was nearby compared with many of the other places on the map, but it was a long journey. Even if he traveled alone and kept a fast pace, Sen thought it would probably take a couple of weeks to get there. If he traveled with a group or merchant’s caravan, it could take a month.

“Well, it’s close enough,” he amended. “Why? Is there a reason not to go there?”

Master Feng opened his mouth, seemed to reconsider his words, and then shook his head. “No, I don’t suppose there is. It’s just not a very interesting place, but you aren’t going there to see the town. So, I guess it’s not a real problem if it’s not that interesting.”

***

As the new year approached, Sen was once again fretting about what he could get for the three elder cultivators. Yet, when he asked for advice, he was told not to bother with gifts. Perplexed, he asked why. All three made nearly identical statements that, when you got to be as old as they were, it was a lot more fun to give gifts than it was to get them. After all, they’d had countless mortal lifetimes to gather up all the things they could ever want. The notion had seemed very odd to Sen at first. As someone who had gone without very nearly every physical necessity for the better part of his life, he struggled with the idea of not needing more things. He could understand not wanting useless things, but there was always something practical that someone could use.

Yet, as Sen looked around the house, he started to understand their meaning. He couldn’t think of a single time that he’d needed an object, a tool, anything really, that was not immediately dug out of a closet or retrieved from a storage ring. It was only then that Sen first began to grasp the profound advantages that an incredibly long life provided. You didn’t need to race to amass a fortune if you had twenty lifetimes. You didn’t need to learn everything in a hurry with that many years before you. You could afford to spend as much time as it took to accomplish your goals. Enough time could, at least in theory, level any advantage. For most people, time was the enemy. It ticked away and, in the end, robbed you of everything. As a cultivator, though, Sen wouldn’t grow old. He wouldn’t grow weak. As long as he chose his path with care, he would only grow more powerful and more capable the longer he lived. As the cultivator, time was his most powerful ally.

With that insight, Sen felt the breakthrough start. It wasn’t as powerful as some of his previous breakthroughs, but the rush of fresh qi brought his attention to his own qi stores. He almost fell into a wall when he realized that he was stuffed full of accumulated qi. In all the rush to prepare for his departure, he hadn’t been focused on converting the misty attributed qi inside him into the iridescent liquid qi. He made a hasty beeline for the cultivation room. While he didn’t expect any more vile expulsions of waste from his body, he didn’t dare risk an interruption while he converted all that qi. It took him the better part of five days to finish that work. When he finally stumbled out of the cultivation room feeling both oddly powerful and utterly exhausted, he’d found Master Feng waiting for him.

“Oh, good, you’re finally at middle foundation formation. Rest up for a day. Then, I can finally start teaching you that qinggong technique.”

***

For a few brief days, it felt like a return to form to Sen. He spent his mornings practicing what he already knew, and his afternoons learning from Master Feng. Yet, the feeling didn’t last. When he’d been learning before, he’d been taking in entire styles and systems. Learning one technique, however demanding, wasn’t the same thing. It was more like learning a punch or an individual form out of a system. Of course, Sen also quickly realized that learning a qinggong technique was the easy part. Doing that technique was the real challenge. Where other qi techniques were mentally taxing, the true difficulty in qinggong techniques was that they were taxing on your qi reserves.

“They’re hungry techniques,” agreed Master Feng. “That’s why people don’t usually learn them until after they’re into core formation. At that point, you’ve generally got enough in reserve that you don’t feel the loss so much. Of course, I have no idea where either of us will be when you finally break into core formation. You could probably find someone to teach you a technique at that point, but they’d probably teach you one of the bad ones. No, better that I teach you this one, now. I know it doesn’t feel that way, but it’s the most efficient technique I’ve found. You’ll appreciate that later. You can practice it and, who knows, it might even come in handy along the way. Nobody expects a foundation formation stage to whip a qinggong technique out of their back pocket.”

“As you say, master,” said Sen.

Then, he went back to pooling qi around his feet and trying to walk across the long tub of water that Master Feng had set up.

***

Denied advice and explicitly forbidden to give gifts, Sen did the only thing he could think of when the new year rolled around. He took over preparing the meal. Auntie Caihong had given him a bemused look when he ordered her out of the kitchen, but she complied with a shake of her head. Sen prepared a small feast for them. He made sure to include at least one favorite dish for everyone. While he didn’t say that the meal was his gift, everyone knew full well what he was doing. They all took great pains to gush about the food. Understanding what they were doing, Sen accepted the compliments with a combination of good grace and, when Master Feng exclaimed that the transcendent quality of the dumplings was about to make him break through to immortality, the occasional eye roll.

After the meal, the old cultivators quickly exchanged small gifts with each other before turning their attention to Sen. Before anyone else could say anything, Auntie Caihong seized her chance.

“You glory thieves got to go first last year, well, now it’s my turn.”

With that, she handed Sen a neatly tied bundle. When he opened it, he found a set of excellent robes inside. The material was a dark blue that could easily be mistaken for black in the right light. They felt like they were made of silk, but he sensed a gentle flow of qi in the material.

“Thank you, Auntie.”

“Oh, the good part is still coming. Those robes aren’t for special occasions. I had them made for traveling. They’ll hold up very well against the weather. They’ll also stay clean for a lot longer.”

Sen had wondered how he would deal with the problem of cleaning his robes all the time. Once again, it seemed that Auntie Caihong had anticipated his needs. He offered her a bow. For her part, Auntie Caihong looked a little smug. Sen saw Master Feng and Uncle Kho trade a quick look before Uncle Kho held out a rolled piece of paper. Sen took it and unrolled it on the table. He found a smaller version of the map that he’d spent so much time looking at over the previous few months. Uncle Kho had even made some helpful notations on the map, such as where to find good food or a safe inn. Sen could immediately see the value of the map, both in the near future and later, when he found himself much farther away.

“Thank you, Uncle Kho,” said Sen, smiling at the man. “I expect I’ll use this until it falls to pieces.

“It’s never a bad thing to have a map, especially one that is relatively accurate. That’s something to watch out for out in the world, by the way. There are a lot of terrible mapmakers.”

Sen chuckled. “I’ll be mindful, Uncle.”

“That map should hold up better than you think it will, though. It’s been treated to help preserve the paper against most things that are likely to damage it.”

As with Auntie Caihong, Sen offered Uncle Kho a deep bow. Then, it was Master Feng’s turn. Showing his usual disregard for ceremony, he simply gestured and a jian appeared in his hand.

“Here you go,” he said.

Sen took hold of the sword and froze. He understood that this jian wasn’t like the one he normally used. It felt different. Master Feng nodded when he saw Sen’s expression.

“I don’t understand how, but-,” Sen grasped for the words and failed.

“It’s a spirit-level jian. It’s what most foundation formation cultivators use. It has a few special properties, but the biggest things are durability and qi conduction. That blade will stand up to fights far better than the one you’ve been using, especially if you infuse it with metal qi. The metal is interesting, too. The crystal matrix forms in such a way that, well, it doesn’t matter. It can hold and move more qi. It’ll make some of your techniques work better.”

Sen just stared at the sword for a while before the true importance of Master Feng’s words sank in.

“Wait, if this works better, why did you make me use the other sword?”

“I didn’t want the tool to become a crutch. Having used a plain jian halfway through foundation formation means you don't depend on the blade to do work for you. You’ll appreciate what it can do to improve your techniques, but you won’t depend on it.”

Sen wanted to be angry with the man, but he couldn’t really muster the fire for it. Sen hadn’t lost anything by training with the regular blade. He’d only gained a little advantage by having the spirit-level jian, now.

“Thank you, master.”