Unintended Cultivator

V13 Chapter 12 – Nothing Grand

“It’s a body cultivation manual meant for nascent soul cultivators,” Sen continued. “I can’t read all of it. Well, not without some work, but I can read some of it. If I’m understanding it correctly, this will work for me.”

“That’s good,” said Falling Leaf a little hesitantly.

Sen wasn’t sure if she was picking up on his uncertainty, or if she had her own reservations about the manual. He gave her a joyless smile.

“It might be good, but I suspect it’s probably more in the nature of something that’s necessary. Those tugs have rarely led me quite so directly to something. Honestly, it makes me very nervous, because I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how to advance my body cultivation.”

“I thought you’d given up on that.”

“Given up? No. I stopped talking about it because I had no idea how to advance my body cultivation without taking breathtaking risks with my life. Risks that I didn’t feel like I could take in my position. This looks to be exactly what I needed, when I needed it. That kind of luck—” he trailed off. “It likely means that I’ll need the power that this can give me simply to survive the war. I don’t like what that suggests, at all.”

Sen might have continued, but he felt something moving on the outer edges of his spiritual sense. He’d been getting better at picking up on salient details when people or spirit beasts moved into that zone. At least, he could if there weren’t too many things occupying his attention. He grunted.

“It seems Master Feng has come to check on us.”

The pair stayed where they were, waiting for the elder cultivator to locate them. However, Sen was surprised when his teacher landed in a different part of the city and stayed there. By then, it seemed that he was within reach of Falling Leaf’s spiritual sense. She frowned in that direction.

“Why did he go there?”

“I’m not sure,” said Sen. “Why don’t we go and ask him?”

Conjuring a qi platform beneath them, Sen flew them over the ruins in a mostly straight line. He did need to go around a few taller buildings that he thought might have been temples of some kind. He eventually spotted Master Feng. The elder cultivator was standing perfectly still and staring at a few stones that might once have been the foundation of a building. Sen landed nearby and shot Falling Leaf a questioning look. She didn’t appear to share his confusion. Then again, she tended to take everything his teachers did in stride. It was almost like she expected them to behave strangely. An approach that, on balance, Sen realized was probably the best way to handle the things they did.

As Sen walked over to Master Feng, he extended his qi and spiritual sense. He was trying to find something that might warrant such intense scrutiny. All he found was inert rock. However, the expression on Master Feng’s face told him that there was something important about this place. It was subtle, but there was suppressed pain and a faint happiness in that expression. Sen wasn’t sure how to react. It was possibly the most mortal look he’d ever seen the elder cultivator wear.

“Master Feng?” he finally asked.

“Sen,” answered the man in a distracted way.

“Is there something here?”

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Master Feng’s eyes focused, and he shook his head.

“No. Not anymore. But there used to be. A very, very long time ago.”

“What was it?” asked Sen before realizing it might have been better not to ask.

His teacher shrugged and said, “Nothing grand. Nothing that cultivators would care about. It was my home when I was still a mortal. I grew up here.”

Sen thought his eyes might pop out of his own head. He’d somehow unearthed Master Feng’s home! Then, he glared at the sky for a moment. It was true that the manual had been here, and he did need it. Even so, Sen couldn’t help but wonder if this was the heavens manipulating Master Feng and using him to do it. Not that he was going to voice those thoughts out loud.

“I see,” said Sen, unable to think of something more useful to say.

“There was a woman, she lived in the house that used to be there,” said Master Feng, pointing at another empty spot. “She used to make the most amazing pastries. I befriended her son, just hoping I’d be able to get them more often. I thought I was being clever, but she must have known. I think she put up with it because he wasn’t well-liked. He wasn’t good with people. Got nervous. It put people off. Now, I don’t even remember his name. Feels like something I should have remembered. Then again, I don’t remember my real name, either. So, maybe we’re even on that debt.”

“Feng Ming isn’t your name?” blurted Sen.

Master Feng snorted in amusement and said, “The customs were different then. When you joined a sect or became a wandering cultivator, you were supposed to cut ties. One of the ways you did that was by taking a new name. It's actually safer than what cultivators do now.”

“How so?”

“No one can target your mortal family if nobody knows who you really are.”

“I guess that would be safer. Why did it change?”

“Things just change. I suspect that it started with someone who didn’t want to give up wealth and had enough status that no one wanted to object.”

“What about Uncle Kho and Auntie Caihong?” asked Sen.

“Those are their real names, as far as I know. They’ve never told me otherwise,” answered Master Feng before turning an intense gaze on Sen. “How did you find this place? I thought it was destroyed.”

“I was led here,” said Sen, and retrieved the manual from a storage ring. “I was supposed to find this.”

He handed the manual over to his teacher, who flipped through a few pages.

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen or heard this dialect.”

“Can you read it?”

Sen felt more than a little selfish asking that question, but he needed to know. Master Feng made a noncommittal noise while he studied one of the pages more carefully.

“I think so. Better than you’d be able to manage, I’m sure. Where did you find this?”

“In a sect library. In an ancient storage ring.”

“The damnable heavens are playing games with you again, aren’t they?”

“I suspect so. However, there were a lot of very old scrolls and manuals in that library. The one I tried to pick up crumbled to dust, so I left the rest alone. I don’t suppose you know of a way to preserve or restore them, do you?”

Instead of answering, Master Feng issued a command.

“Show me this sect library.”

Sen considered his teacher’s expression and decided to just comply. It wasn’t like it was that far away.

“Follow us,” said Sen.

He walked over to Falling Leaf and carried them back to the sect compound on a qi platform. Master Feng flew next to them. By the time they landed outside the library building, Master Feng was shaking his head in a rueful way.

“What is it?” asked Sen.

“I just knew it was going to be this place.”

“Is this where you learned?”

“Ha!” laughed Master Feng. “They never would have looked twice at me. I wasn’t the kind of person the Golden Pavilion wanted.”

“What kind of person were you?”

“Angry. Poor. Uneducated. Take your pick of reasons. I never dreamed I’d set foot in this place. Now, they’re all gone, and I’m still here. I wonder what the Golden Pavilion elders would have made of that.”

Sen didn’t think that Master Feng expected him to reply, so he just led his teacher inside. Master Feng spent a very long time studying the scrolls and manuals that still sat on the shelves. He shook his head and gave Sen a look.

“How did you even manage to get these to the surface intact?”

“I—” Sen started, but Falling Leaf cut him off.

“He was being Sen.”

“Ah,” said Master Feng. “That would do it. Well, in answer to your question, it might be possible to save these, but I’m not the person you need. We’ll need to talk to Kho and Caihong.”