Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story)

A tired woman with a toddler on her hip answered the door. She was a half-spirit in her early to mid thirties, and her hair was an unusual shade of light green, with a few feathers mixed in. She gave Eui a confused look before greeting her.

“Um, hello?”

Eui bowed.

“Hello, Miss. My name is An Eui. Am I speaking to Miss Cho Sook-Joo?”

It had been over five years since Eui killed Cho Kyung, but the child the woman was holding couldn’t be more than two or three. Had she made a mistake?

The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she answered.

“Yes, that’s me. What is this? What’s going on?”

“I’ve come to settle a debt with your husband.”

Miss Cho grimaced.

“Well I’m sorry, but you’re five years late to collect. He’s been dead for years, and I don’t have anything left. I can barely afford to keep living in the city as it is.”

Eui shook her head.

“You misunderstand. I’m not here to collect—in fact, I’m the one who owes a debt to your husband.”

“Oh!”

Cho’s eyes swam as her doubt fought an internal war against hope and desperation. In the end, it was the practical side that won out.

“So...what do you owe?”

“Everything.”

She blinked, glancing down at the toddler in her arms before sighing.

“Uh...maybe you should come inside...”

Eui followed Cho Sook-Joo into the house. The apartment was small, with a combined kitchenette and living area separated from a single large bedroom by a sliding door. The building had a communal toilet on each floor, and Eui assumed that a nearby public bathhouse served for their other personal hygiene needs.

The living area was cluttered with toys, half-finished laundry, and empty dishes. There was next to no furniture, but a small overladen tea table was flanked with four worn cushions for seating.

Cho Sook-Joo hustled over to the bedroom to lay the exhausted child down for a nap.

“Sorry about the mess—I wasn’t expecting company.”

“It’s fine.”

Eui took one of the cushions, sitting on her heels while she waited for her host to return. She emerged from the bedroom a few moments later, smiling stiffly.

“You’ve got good timing, Magus An Eui. It’s little Youngmi’s nap time, and she’s decided to be cooperative, for once. Can I get you anything? I think I have some barley tea, uh...somewhere.”

“No, thank you. And I’m not a magus.”

Miss Cho looked askance at her as she took a cushion of her own, matching Eui’s posture—though she looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Eh? If you’re not a magus, then what...?”

She trailed off as Eui swept the lock of hair that hid her scar aside, her eyes widening at the sight of the brand of exile. She just stared, frozen in fear. Eui might have been irritated under any other circumstance, but she could sense the woman’s heart practically beating out of her chest.

Eui let her hair fall back into place.

“I’ve since been pardoned, but I hold no titles here. I’m not even a Goryeon citizen anymore.”

Cho Sook-Joo swallowed nervously.

“How...how did you know my husband?”

“I didn’t. I never even learned his name until nearly a year after we met.”

“And when was that?”

Eui clenched her fists in her lap, staring down at them to avoid the widow’s accusatory glare. Why was this so hard?

“When I killed him.”

Cho Sook-Joo reacted with shocking speed and decisiveness, grabbing a knitting needle off of the table and launching herself at Eui. With the utmost care, Eui caught her wrist and plucked the needle from her grip, then wrapped her tail around Miss Cho’s other arm to prevent her from trying to hit her.

Eui was too small to keep Cho far enough away to prevent her from kicking, so she made a deliberate effort to soften the blows. After Jia had broken Shi Jinghua’s hand by accident, she wasn’t about to make the same mistake again.

“Please calm down, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“How—”

Cho Sook-Joo cut herself off, freezing at the sound of her child grumbling in the other room. Once her daughter was quiet again, she continued in a furious whisper.

“How dare you? You come into my house, tell me you killed my husband, and then brag about being pardoned? I don’t care about your threats—you’ve already ruined my life! I have nothing left to lose.”

Eui was certain that wasn’t true, but any attempt to argue would only come across as more threatening. Ancestors damn it, she was already screwing everything up.

“I wasn’t trying to threaten you, Miss Cho. It’s physically impossible for you to hurt me, and while I’d be more than happy to let you take out your frustration on me, I’m worried that you’d hurt yourself in the process.”

Cho Sook-Joo glared at Eui, her rage gradually fading into confusion, then realization, then fear, before finally settling into the quiet desolation of exhausted acceptance. She stopped struggling enough for Eui to feel comfortable releasing her, then flopped back down onto her cushion, sitting cross-legged.

“Who in the ancestors’ names are you, really? And what do you want with me?”

“As I said, I owe Cho Kyung a debt. I’ll spare you my life story, but that chance encounter set me on a path out of the dire straits I was in. Even if I hadn’t taken his life, I would still owe him more than you can fathom. I know I can never undo the harm I’ve caused, but if there’s anything I can do for you, I would be honored if you gave me the chance to make things right.”

“Kill yourself.”

Eui pursed her lips. That wasn’t exactly unexpected, but it still hurt.

“I can’t. There are too many people counting on me, and I have...other debts.”

Cho scoffed.

“Of course you do. Murderer. How many other widows have you created? How many lives destroyed? And, what, now that you’ve grown into some powerful mage you think you can just go around buying forgiveness? No. I hope you choke on it, An Eui. I hope your guilt haunts you for the rest of eternity.”

Eui took a deep breath. She could feel Jia offering her silent support. She wasn’t alone. She was never alone.

“You’re mistaken again, Miss Cho. I don’t want your forgiveness. Frankly, I couldn’t care one whit less about what you think of me.”

Cho narrowed her eyes.

“Then why bother coming here at all? Just to gloat?”

“No, damn it! Because it’s the right thing to do! Because in my selfish desperation, I hurt you in a way that can never be taken back. I don’t deserve to be pardoned or forgiven. I don’t even regret what I did—how could I when I owe everything good in my life to that one moment? But you? You deserve restitution. Justice. Your children deserve a better future.”

“You’re the one who took their future away!”

“I know!”

From the bedroom, Cho Youngmi started crying, and Eui wilted under Cho Sook-Joo’s withering glare. She took another moment to compose herself while Miss Cho went to soothe her daughter back to sleep.

When Miss Cho returned, Eui put her hands on the floor and fully prostrated herself.

“I’m sorry. I can’t return your husband back to life, or return things to the way they were. Maybe I can’t make things right, but please at least allow me to make things better. Not for my sake or yours, but for hers.”

Cho Sook-Joo collapsed back into her seat and sighed, her hands shaking.

“I need a drink.”

Eui pounced on the opportunity, producing an expensive bottle of soju from her soul realm. One of many small gifts that she’d purchased ahead of time to prepare. Eui held out the offering, and Miss Cho stared blankly at it for a moment before chuckling incredulously.

“This is so surreal. Fine. I’ll hear you out—at least until the bottle is empty.”

“Thank you.”

Cho Sook-Joo held her cup up with both hands as Eui poured her drink, then surprised Eui by setting it down and taking the bottle.

“Come on, then, where’s your cup?”

“O-oh, I don’t—”

“The hell you don’t! You’ve humiliated me enough already, and I am not drinking alone.”

Eui sighed and produced another cup, holding it out while Cho filled it for her. She’d never really developed a taste for alcohol, and since she couldn’t get drunk it held little appeal. That didn’t bother Cho Sook-Joo, who took a long pull from her own cup before letting out a contented sigh.

“Ahh, you really are rich, huh? This is good stuff.”

“Thank you, I think? So, about what I can do for you and your children...”

“You realize she’s not even his, right?”

Eui frowned, taking a small sip of her own drink. It tasted vaguely of burnt rice with a mild hint of sweetness and burned her throat on the way down.

“I did notice that, yes. It doesn’t matter, and it’s none of my business anyway.”

“After I found out Kyung had died, I tried to find comfort elsewhere. Unfortunately, the sort of comfort men wanted from a widow with two children was quite a bit more temporary than the consequences of said comfort.”

She’d barely started drinking, and Cho was already spilling such a personal story to someone she’d tried to kill just a few moments prior. Just how strong was that stuff? Eui was starting to understand why alcohol was so popular for social occasions.

“I’m not judging you, Miss Cho. I’m the last person who should question the life choices of another.”

“Hah! I suppose you are. And yet you’d really help her? She’s not related to my husband—you don’t owe her anything.”

“That doesn’t change my debt to you or your other children. Besides, even if it did, now that I’ve met you, spoken, shared a drink...”

Eui held her glass up for emphasis, and Cho surprised her again by clinking their glasses together. She took another sip before continuing.

“I wouldn’t be able to ignore you anyway. I’d like to help you in any way I can.”

Cho Sook-Joo emptied her glass, letting Eui pour her another as she responded.

“That’s rather selfish, isn’t it? There are others worse off than me. Outside the walls, in the red light district, ancestors—even some of the people in this building have it worse. Shouldn’t you help them instead?”

“Maybe, but I can’t help everyone, and I know you. I don’t know them. Maybe that’s selfish, but so what? I already spend enough time and energy trying to help everyone through my regular job.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

Eui finished her own drink, and Cho didn’t hesitate to refill it. Even though the alcohol didn’t affect Eui, she still felt herself opening up.

“I’m a queen.”

Cho Sook-Joo faltered, but Eui moved her glass to prevent anything from spilling and caught the bottle. She chuckled at Miss Cho’s incredulous stare and shook her head.

“Well, the official title in Jiaguo is ‘High Arbiter,’ but it ultimately amounts to the same thing.”

“S-so when you said ‘anything you could do’...?”

“I meant it. If it’s feasibly within my power, either as a cultivator or as the High Arbiter of Jiaguo, I’ll see it done to the letter and beyond.”

Miss Cho stared into her drink in contemplative silence.

“I can’t fathom it. I don’t even know where to begin coming up with a request. Money feels...too trite. Like putting a price on my husband’s life.”

“If you want your children to be educated, I can arrange for any or all of them to attend any college in the country. Whatever else you ask for, I’ll also give you and each of your children an invitation to Jiaguo’s academy—that’s the same one your husband was headed for when...”

She trailed off, the mood growing somber again at the reminder.

“Anyway, it’s the same place I studied, and I can say without a doubt that it’s the most advanced organization of its kind. Even if you don’t want to use them for yourselves, some much smarter people than I have estimated that those invitations will be immensely valuable in a few years. You can always sell them.”

“And you’d do all that, just for us.”

Eui nodded.

“That and more, and not just for you. I’ve got a whole list, and you were just the first.”

Cho Sook-Joo frowned down into her soju for a long while, then downed the glass and looked Eui firmly in the eyes.

“A job. I mean, I’ll take all that other stuff too, but as nice as it would be to have someone provide everything for us, what I need most of all right now is a way to provide for my family. No disrespect, Miss An, but I hate you, and I don’t want to be dependent on your continuing goodwill.”

Eui nodded gracefully.

“Believe it or not, I understand entirely. I’ve only got so much influence here, but I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Good. Now get the hell out of my house. I never want to see you again.”