Unintended Cultivator

Sen procrastinated for almost two weeks. He didn’t call it procrastination, of course, and he made good use of the time. He helped Luo Min and Luo Ping in their fields, doing more heavy labor in a few days than any normal paid labor could have done in a month. He cleared land, taking a bit of satisfaction in using the axe he hadn’t bothered to return yet. Then he used the drying technique that he’d mastered on the road to season the wood. Some of it he simply split into firewood for use the following winter. Some of it, though, he prepared into planks, boards, and beams. With Luo Ping’s rather stunned permission, he bartered with the local craftsman. Some of the prepared wood went into expanding the hut into something more like a home. The rest was used as payment for the work. Sen had considered building it himself, but while he had more than enough raw physical strength for the work, he lacked experience. He did, however, take time out every day to observe the craftsman at work. He asked the occasional question so he’d know what to do if he ever needed to build something for himself, even if only as a temporary shelter.

He set up a qi gathering formation and obscuring formation, then went into seclusion in his tent for three days. He used two days of that time to form a few more drops of the precious liquid qi that would one day fill his dantian and become his core. The third day he used to partially replenish some of the vaporous qi that filled the rest of his dantian. Once again, he had far less of it than he was truly comfortable with. Yet, even those few extra drops of liquid qi had boosted the basic strength of everything he did. Unless he was called on to engage in an extended fight with another cultivator, he expected that what he had would suffice for now.

He was happy to see that the message he’d sent the village as a whole was finally being taken seriously. Far fewer young men showed up to the farm, but the ones who did were deeply respectful to Luo Min and Luo Ping. More important, both for Sen’s peace of mind and the long-term health prospects of those young men, was that none of them made him automatically uncomfortable. For his part, Sen hung back from those interactions. A few of the young men were obviously bad fits for Luo Min, but Sen decided that was a matter for Luo Ping and Luo Min to discuss for themselves. He’d interfered enough with their lives at this point.

He was overdue to leave. He knew it. He could feel it in his heart. There was a subtle but building pressure coming from somewhere urging him to go. He wasn’t staying for their benefit anymore, but to fulfill some need of his own that had nothing to do with enlightenment or cultivation. He was hanging on to them, to that little farm, to the almost family they had formed. Some part of him wanted to stay. Worse, he knew that all it would take would be a single question from him to make it happen. Can I stay here, Luo Ping? She would say yes, for countless reasons. Her gratitude to him would play a role, certainly, but the presence of a cultivator would make countless other things easier for her. There was always hard work to be done on a farm. His mere presence would discourage spirit beasts from roaming their fields. His alchemical knowledge was a boon to the community. Keeping him there would be a benefit...right up until the moment it wasn’t.

Sooner or later, another cultivator with questionable intentions would pass through. Someone looking to challenge themselves or simply to fight because it was all they understood. Then, Sen’s presence would become an anchor that could drag the entire village down. Maybe he could lead the fight away from the village and farms, but maybe not. He’d seen firsthand how reckless other cultivators were when it came to the mortals around them. In the end, the simple fact of Sen’s existence was a threat to their peace, their livelihoods, and ultimately their lives. That was why he needed to leave. Yet, he lingered, unable or perhaps unwilling to shed the tiny slice of normalcy he’d found.

His encounters with the sect in Tide’s Rest had soured him on sects in general, and he feared that every visit to a city would end with him in conflict with one sect or another. He also knew that wasn’t a rational fear. Wandering cultivators weaker than himself successfully managed to avoid such problems, or so Master Feng and Auntie Caihong claimed. Uncle Kho had his own thoughts on the matter, which the elder cultivator freely admitted were biased. Looking back, Sen wasn’t especially thrilled with his own actions where Cai Yuze was concerned. He’d still been deeply angry when the other cultivator showed up at the inn. Sen had tried to avoid the fight in some senses, but hindsight let him know that he’d encouraged it in other ways. He’d been disdainful of the other cultivator. Given how entitled those disciples on the beach had been, it wasn’t much of a leap to understand that such disdain would likely set the man off. Then, when the predictable had happened, Sen had used it an as excuse. Granted, he couldn’t have known for sure at the time that he could take the other cultivator in a straight fight, but he hadn’t even tried. He’d gone straight for overwhelming force.

The truth was that he could have been more diplomatic. He just hadn’t wanted to at that moment. Not that all the blame rested solely on him. The other cultivator hadn’t taken the obvious hints. He’d acted like an ass. He’d come charging out of the inn with his qi flaring and shouting nonsense about being Sen’s better. Oh, yes, there was plenty of blame to pass around for that particular incident, but Sen had to own his share of it. The prospect of entering another city and facing similar problems haunted him. Of course, he also wasn’t likely to have a moment of enlightenment interrupted like that again. Those moments came along rarely enough that the odds of another cultivator showing up at that exact moment to drop a challenge were exceedingly low. If there was a lesson to be drawn from that whole incident, it wasn’t that all sects and sect members were evil. It was that Sen should avoid them when possible and treat them with wary respect when it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t a foolproof plan. Some cultivators would always be itching for a fight, but Sen didn’t have to make starting those fights easy for them.

All that remained was to actually go out and do it. And that meant abandoning the safe little niche he’d carved out for himself in the quiet village and moving on. Sen took a deep breath, looked across the fields of the farm he’d been working on all day, and then nodded.

“It’s time to go,” he said.

Nothing changed. A nearby honeybee continued its business of gathering pollen from wildflowers. A bird hopped from one tree branch to another. The wind passed around Sen, gently moving his robes, before it rustled nearby leaves and grass. Sen smiled. This place would survive fine without him. Some would miss him. Some would curse him. Yet, the crops would still grow. The harvest would still come. People would still gather near stoves when snow blanketed the earth. Sen had disturbed the balance of this place with his arrival and his actions. For a short while, he even became part of that delicate balance. Now, it was time that he restore the balance to what it should be. Picking up the tools he had been using, Sen made his way back to the hut, which was looking ever more like a house.

Sen did something that he hadn’t done in a while, and he prepared dinner for Luo Min and Luo Ping. He prepared a small feast for them, within the limits of what they had on hand. Even at its most well-stocked, the little farm hut couldn’t hope to match what Auntie Caihong took for granted in her kitchen. Still, Sen prepared fish and pork, dumplings, fried rice, and even a version of those pineapple buns he’d enjoyed so much using a few apples that they had on hand. Both women made appreciative noises throughout the meal and lavished him with praise. He waved away those words, declaring that his skill was a meager thing. Then, having filled their stomachs with good food, Sen told them he was leaving the next day. Luo Ping didn’t look surprised, just a little sad at the news. Luo Min apparently hadn’t really prepared herself because she looked like she might cry.

“It’s not goodbye forever. I’m a wandering cultivator, after all. It stands to reason that I’ll wander this way again.”

“You better,” said Min.

“However, since I’ll miss your wedding, I’ve prepared gifts for your both.”

Sen handed them each a small wooden box that he’d made himself. It had taken a trip to the village to find red paper to wrap them with. Luo Ping lifted an eyebrow at him.

“Should we open them now?” she asked.

Sen shook his head. “No, wait until the day. You’ll understand then.”

Luo Min was staring at the little box as though she could see inside of it through sheer force of will. She glared at him.

“This is so unfair! I might have to wait years to open this!”

“Somehow, I doubt you’ll be waiting years,” said Sen with a laugh.

“Do you have to go?” Luo Min asked with sudden seriousness.

“I do. It’s long past time I move along and stop interfering in your lives. Your mother is well, which was all I meant to do. Now, I think, your farm will find itself in better circumstances come harvest and next spring.”

“Better circumstances,” said Luo Ping with a snort. “Yes, I suppose that’s one way to describe it. You’ve been a blessing on this house, Lu Sen.”

Sen bowed to Luo Ping. “And I wish for it to remain that way. If I stay, other cultivators will come. So, I choose to leave before that happens.”

The three stayed up late that night, talking, laughing, soaking up just a little more time together. Like so many things that people relish, though, that night had to end. In the morning, Sen put away his formation flags. He packed up his tent. Then, he said his goodbyes.

Sen offered Luo Ping a deep bow. “Goodbye, for now, Luo Ping.”

She offered him a similar bow and a mischievous smile. “Goodbye, for now, Lu Sen, humble student of alchemy.”

Then, he turned to Luo Min and offered her a bow. “Goodbye, for now, Sister Min.”

Luo Min put on a smile that looked to cost her something and bowed back. “Goodbye, for now, Brother Sen, wandering cultivator.”

Then, with nothing but an axe in his hand, Sen turned and left the Luo farm.

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