Unintended Cultivator

He Jietang tried to glare at the sun, but mostly just managed to squint. He felt terrible, which was something of an accomplishment for a core cultivator. Their cultivation tended to make it very difficult to get drunk, let alone stay drunk, and hangovers were all but unheard of. But it could be done if a man was willing to work hard enough at it, and He Jietang was no quitter. Now that he thought about it, though, he was a quitter. Quitting was actually something of a pastime for him. He quit things all the time. Especially jobs. Oh, he hated jobs. All that working and sobriety were just so damned excruciating. Except, he had to work if he wanted to stay drunk enough to stay sane.

“Gods, the sun is so bright,” he muttered to himself. “Damn you, Chan Dashi.”

That bastard had shown up the day before and, grinning like a fool, given away all of He Jietang’s liquor. Then, to add insult to injury, the man had hung around until morning, just to make sure that He Jietang got up and went to meet up with that Lu guy. Honestly, he didn’t know what Chan Dishi was so impressed with. They’d both seen their fair share of heavens-kissed cultivators over the years. Most of them were dead now. Cut down by sects, rivals, or time. Time was another bastard that He Jietang hated so much. All those cultivators pushing through their advancements, aching for more power and more life. He wondered how many of them would have been so eager if anyone had told them what all that extra life really was. It was one of the thousand hells. Century after century of life watching everything change, everything die, until the world became a place you didn’t recognize anymore.

Then, you found yourself seeing the faces of the dead on the living bodies of strangers. It was a nightmare, but one that He Jietang couldn’t quite make himself let go of. He’d thought about just ending it all. Even prayed for it a few times. It’s not like it would be that hard to find some idiot young master to cut him down. All that stupid pride made them so predictable. A few well-placed comments and the challenges would start flying. He’d even tried it a few times, only to have it all go sideways on him. He’d been too well-trained. Once the blades came out, he just reacted. Then, it’d be him standing over a corpse, or twelve, or twenty. Then, life would get really hard for a while as some new sect kept sending idiot after idiot to restore their honor. Honor? What a joke. He’d been just like them once upon a time, but he’d seen where that road ended. It always ended at your own grave or the grave of a friend.

If not for Chan Dishi and a few other friends who had managed to survive the grindstone of time, it might have finally become too much. But they would come and find him, give him a touchstone, and balance the universe for a while. He supposed that’s what this new job that Dishi had found for him was about. A way to restore order from chaos, at least for a while. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. At least that Lu guy had shown up after the killing was done. He didn’t even want He Jietang to fight anyone. He wanted him to teach other people how to fight. He’d even said something about teaching mortals. That could be interesting. Or, it might be if his head ever stopped hurting. He paused and leaned against a wall, letting his eyes close for a minute. Gods, he hoped that there were going to be carts or wagons to sleep in on this trip. He really needed some more sleep. A couple days of it would be nice.

Then again, maybe not. He didn’t like to sleep when he was sober. That was when the bad dreams came. Not every night but often enough. He’d seen so much death over the years. So many friends and lovers gone. A few had even died by his own hands. The Jianghu was a possessive mistress. She did not tolerate rivals well. That was to say nothing of all the enemies or supposed enemies he’d killed back in the early years, or the countless deaths after he’d started selling his skills to whoever was hiring when he ran out of money. Not that core cultivators truly needed things like food or even shelter, not the way the mortals did. He could have gone out and lived in the wilds, again, but that wasn’t really any better. Killing spirit beasts by the score was only marginally less awful than killing people by the score.

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He Jietang forced his eyes open, pushed off the wall, and started moving again. Dishi wouldn’t forgive him if he screwed this up. The man truly liked this Lu Sen kid, which was rare for Dishi. He was friendly with lots of people, but those he liked were as rare as eclipses. He’d also taken a chance by recommending him to the new Lord Lu. That was an idea he didn’t like all that much, a cultivator noble on this side of the mountains, but the kid didn’t seem to be taking it all that seriously. That attitude was something that was both a bit troubling and relieving. On the one hand, it probably meant that Lu Sen didn’t take himself too seriously. That was always a good thing. On the other, it also seemed to mean that he didn’t take the situation seriously. Whether that was a product of ignorance, inexperience, or hubris wasn’t clear. It could very well be all of them. Regardless, that was potentially a very bad thing. Oh well, thought He Jietang. None of that is really my problem. My only problem is cramming some fighting skills into a bunch of people’s heads. I can do that.

Trying once more to glare at the hateful sun, he rounded the last corner and beheld Lu Manor. At least, he beheld the walls. Suddenly, all of those stories and jokes he’d heard about Lord Lu’s Fortress of Doom made sense. The walls were massive and a grey as bleak as a field in winter. That alone made them look intimidating. Even from clear down the street, though, he could feel the defenses crouched patiently and waiting for something to trip them. That man doesn’t take half-measures, thought He Jietang. Then, his gaze moved down to the street where he saw all of the glorious carts and wagons. He also saw Lu Sen, smiling happily as he… Was he petting the oxen that were going to pull the carts? He also saw Chan Dishi standing near Lu Sen and talking animatedly about something. Knowing Chan Dishi, it was probably a story about some party that he’d turned into a riot.

He started walking down the street and came up short as he felt Lu Sen’s spiritual sense crash down on him. A moment later, the man’s eyes found him. Lu Sen’s smile disappeared and a deep frown replaced it. He Jietang could read the expression from where he stood. The one that said the man was questioning his own judgment and questioning He Jietang’s capacity to do the work that he’d been hired to do. It was a familiar look. There was nothing to do now but go and see what this Lu Sen would ultimately decide. As he drew near, Lu Sen gave an ox one last pat on the head and closed the distance with a more-serious-than-usual Chan Dishi trailing behind him. Lu Sen looked him up and down before, against all cultivator rules of courtesy, the man’s qi invaded He Jietang’s body. Before he could decide if Lu Sen was attacking him, the qi was gone again. With a sigh that said he was sure he was going to live to regret it, the man produced a stone vial from a storage ring and held it out.

“Drink that,” the man commanded.

Taking the vial and opening it, He Jietang thought his heart was going to stop. He’d had a lot of healing elixirs over the years and exactly none of them had felt like the one in his hands. Chan Dishi glared at him in a very clear do as you're told way. He lifted the vial to his lips and drank. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d expected, but within ten seconds his pounding headache was just gone like it had been fog blown away by a great gust of wind. The light stopped bothering him a second later. Then, it felt like that wind passed through him and carried away a thousand tiny ills that he’d learned to ignore. He felt clear, healthy, like the man he’d been when he’d met Chan Dishi all those long years before. Of course, no elixir could wash away what was in his mind and heart, but even those felt a little less terrible.

“Good,” said Lu Sen. “Now that you won’t set a terrible example for the children, you can help.”

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