Chương 13: "Rich? This isn't rich"

Ch 13: "Rich? This isn't rich" Everyone else seemed calm. Zhen tried to match them, but the thought of joining the Cloudstone Peak Sect sent a spark of excitement through him that was hard to suppress. Now that he'd had a brief taste he wanted more training, and knowledge. More power. Cloudstone Peak would give it to him. A weak whinny cut across the yard. Zhen froze. Chul's warning neigh had been abruptly cut off at the start of the attack.

He had been too caught up in the battle and its immediate aftermath to think about what that meant.

"Chul!" He bolted across the yard, stuffing his hammers back into his belt as he ran. She lay on her side in the tall grass of her field. A deep gash split the skin above her right eye. Blood matted her chestnut coat and her legs twitched weakly as she tried and failed to lift her head. Her eyes rolled with pain and fear. Zhen vaulted over the fence and dropped down beside her. He gently picked up her head to cradle it in his lap.

"No." His fingers trembled as they traced the air above her wound, afraid to touch it and cause more pain. The cut ran too deep. He had seen many injuries to animals in his village life. This only ever ended one way. Heat surged through Zhen, and anger burned his fatigue away. They had dealt with the Memory Wraiths and cultivators but their leader, Lau-Phu, had escaped after doing this to an innocent creature. The weight of Chul's head in his lap and each wheeze of her labored breath fueled his rage.

Footsteps approached from behind and Zhen saw Shuo's worn boots from the corner of his eye.

"Can you help her?" Zhen's voice caught. He looked up, not caring that Shuo might see the wetness in his eyes. Shuo studied the horse, then wordlessly ran his finger over his ring. A small crystal vial filled with liquid that shimmered like trapped starlight appeared in his gnarled hand.

"Given the state you're in I came over to offer this to you," Shuo held out the vial.

"It's a Grade-Two Spring-Vitality Healing Essence. Rather decent for a village like this. In a sect, they'd use this for inner sect disciples, but for a boy with a scratched back, it's like using that hammer of yours to crack a nut." Only then did Zhen become aware of the searing pain across his back. The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off, and he could feel blood soaking through his tunic from the injury he had taken from the swipe the Wraith took at him.

"Will it work on animals?" Shuo raised a single eyebrow, then gave a small nod. Zhen ignored his own pain and snatched the vial. He carefully tipped the glittering liquid into Chul's mouth and she swallowed reflexively. For a moment nothing happened. Then the torn flesh of her forehead began to knit together. The blood stopped flowing, then the wound closed completely. Chul blinked rapidly, her eyes clearing. With a startled whinny, she scrambled to her feet, and shook her head as if waking from a bad dream.

Zhen rose more slowly, wincing as the movement pulled at the cuts on his back. But the smile that spread across his face was genuine. He reached out to stroke Chul's head, now whole and unmarked. Turning back to thank Shuo, he found the old man holding out another, identical, vial.

"Master, I…"

"Save it," Shuo cut him off.

"If we're traveling together, you'll slow me down enough even at full health." His tone was gruff, but there was something almost like kindness lurking behind the harsh words.

"Don't waste your breath thanking me, just drink." Zhen took the potion and downed it in one swallow. The liquid that slid down his throat was cool yet burning with latent energy. His back tingled, then a wave of heat rushed through his entire body. The pain vanished instantly as though it had never been. He rolled his shoulders. The wounds were gone. Even his exhaustion from the fight had vanished. Zhen gently washed the dried blood from Chul's coat.

She nuzzled his shoulder affectionately when he finished, her eyes bright and alert once more.

"She'll be fine," Shuo said as they walked back toward the house.

"Sturdy beast." His father's voice called from the forge before Zhen could respond.

"Zhen! Can I get you in here?" Zhen glanced at Shuo, who merely shrugged.

"Better not keep Gang waiting. I'll see you back at the house." Inside the forge, Zhen found his father standing beside the anvil, the space around it uncharacteristically clear of tools and materials. The hearth burned low, casting dancing shadows across the familiar stone walls.

"Good, you heard. Help me move this," Gang said, nodding toward the massive anvil. Zhen frowned. The two-hundred-pound block of steel hadn't moved in his memory. In fact he didn't even know that it could move.

"Why do you…" If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Questions'll answer themselves. For now, just grab hold and lift." Zhen braced himself not really expecting to be able to shift the heavy block. Instead, as he lifted, the steel moved easily. His Earth Tempered Body was asserting itself once more. Gang shuffled sideways, and Zhen matched him until they had set it down well away from its usual spot. Where the anvil had stood, a stone staircase dropped into darkness.

"How long has that been there?" Zhen stared, dumbfounded. Gang grabbed a torch from the wall, lit it from the hearth, and gestured toward the stairs.

"Since I dug it out in the first year after we moved here. I even brought you down there as a toddler, not that you'd remember." The staircase led to a cellar around half the size of the forge above. Gang moved around the room, lighting additional torches until the space was fully illuminated. Zhen stood at the foot of the stairs, taking it all in. A heavy wooden table dominated the center. Two walls held shelves stacked with travel supplies, dried foods, medicine pouches, tools, and more.

The third wall displayed an impressive arsenal of swords, spears, bows, and daggers, all meticulously maintained. On the fourth wall, either side of the staircase, hung two sets of expensive-looking grey cultivator robes with matching boots and traveling cloaks. Just from looking at them Zhen could tell they were sized for his parents. Gang was already pulling items from the shelves, efficiently loading three packs.

"Water skin, flint and steel, cooking pot, rope..." He worked as he talked.

"You've been preparing to run," Zhen said quietly. Gang looked up, and Zhen saw excitement in his father's eyes.

"Since before we even stopped here." Gang's voice was livelier than Zhen had heard in months.

"Always hoped we wouldn't need it, but..." He shrugged.

"We were always ready." He tossed three neatly tied bed rolls to Zhen, who caught them reflexively.

"No cultivator robes for you, I'm afraid," Gang continued.

"But those clothes of yours have survived working in this old forge for years and they'll hold up well enough for travel. Otherwise we've got more than enough supplies to make sure you'll get to Cloudstone Peak." At that Gang paused and pulled out a key on a chain around his neck. It was small and ornate, the metal darkened with age. He used it to unlock a wooden chest on one of the shelves. The lid creaked softly as Gang flipped it up to reveal the contents. Zhen's jaw dropped.

The chest held gold and gemstones that caught the torchlight and scattered it across the cellar walls. Rubies the size of his thumbnails sat beside emeralds and sapphires, while stacks of coins rose in neat columns from the glittering pile.

"How... how long have we been rich?" Zhen finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. His mind raced through every memory of patched clothes, of carefully counting copper coins at the market, of his mother's careful budgeting of every grain of rice. Gang let out a short, barking laugh, his hands never slowing as he continued loading their packs.

"Rich? This isn't rich." He scooped up three leather pouches from a nearby shelf.

"Mortal money like this becomes almost irrelevant to cultivators. I suppose we could have lived a more luxurious life, but that's the sort of carelessness that would have drawn attention. Being the village blacksmith brought wealth and status enough." Zhen couldn't tear his eyes from the treasure.

"This could buy the entire village. And all the farms. Several times over."

"And what would we do with those if we had them? When you barely need to eat or sleep, when your body doesn't feel extremes of weather," Gang stuffed the pouches with heaping handfuls of coins and gems as he spoke, "the things you can buy with mortal money become a lot less important." His father's hands didn't slow as he spoke.

"You don't realize how different the world is that you have just stepped into, Zhen. Even early-stage cultivators can earn in a few hours what we make in the forge in a year, just by say taking on a contract to clear out a pack of spirit beasts threatening a town." Gang cinched one pouch closed and tossed it to Zhen, who caught it automatically, feeling the substantial weight of it. Then he handed Zhen a second, empty pouch.

"That should be enough to deal with most things you'll need to get you started in your early days at Cloudstone Peak," Gang said, nodding at the full pouch.

"In the village, this gold would be a lifetime of security. In a sect, it's just so much shiny ballast. When, if, you make it in, you'll trade in contribution points. Gold can buy you a bed in an inn, but only contribution points can buy you the things that really matter." Zhen hefted the pouch, trying to reconcile its weight with the idea that it wasn't considered wealth.

"Regardless," Gang continued, "that pouch contains enough to cause you trouble on the journey if anyone sees it. Keep it hidden. Just keep a few lower value coins in that empty one to use in public." Zhen nodded, slipping both pouches inside his robes, his mind still struggling to adjust to this new reality. All these years they had lived modestly while sitting on a fortune. A fortune that, apparently, didn't mean anything. Gang paused and fished in his pocket.

"Talking of valuable things. You should have this before I forget." He dropped a small grey sphere into Zhen's palm. The object was far heavier than its size suggested. As he looked at it the grey dissolved, cycling through crimson to amber to midnight blue, then back. Jagged, unrefined qi swirled inside like a trapped storm. It was raw power, riddled with spiritual impurities that would need working out before it could be safely used.

"What is it?" he asked, rolling it between his fingers.

"The beast core from the tracker hound. You earned it." Zhen nearly dropped it.

"The one I killed?" Gang nodded.

"I cut it out for you. Used properly it can accelerate your cultivation. Or go into a potion." He closed the treasure chest and locked it again.

"Or if you want to sell it, that core is worth significantly more than everything in that pouch." Zhen stared at the small sphere. It was no bigger than a marble, yet more valuable than what he had just considered a fortune.

"Keep that hidden even better," Gang said, returning to his packing.

"Cultivators can sense the energy in beast cores. It'll draw attention." Zhen watched his father. His movements seemed lighter, more fluid than they had been in years. No longer having to carry the secrets and worry seemed to have transformed him.

"You never wanted this life for me," Zhen said quietly. Gang's hands paused briefly over a bundle of dried herbs.

"I wanted you safe. Or at least to keep you alive." He resumed his work.

"But seems fate has other ideas."

"And you're not upset about having to give this all up?" Gang looked up then, meeting Zhen's eyes fully.

"Been seventeen years since I've held a proper sword. Seventeen years of hammering horseshoes instead of hunting spirit beasts and fighting cultivators." The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"Can't say I'm entirely disappointed to be picking up where I left off." A small wistful smile crossed Gang's face.

"The only thing I'm sorry about is that we'll have to send you into that viper's nest of a sect without being by your side." Zhen felt a pang of sadness. Everything had happened so fast that he hadn't quite taken on board the fact that he would be facing a new life without his parents. Shuo would get him there. What happened after was his own business. Whatever the dangers to come, for the first time in his life, he would face them with just his own wits and abilities. It wasn't an entirely displeasing thought.

He closed his hand around the core.

"When do we leave?"