Unintended Cultivator - A Xianxia-inspired Cultivation Novel

The question hung in the air between them like an awkwardly placed holiday decoration. With the question asked and Sen’s silence stretching out longer and longer, Chan Yu Ming looked increasingly uncomfortable and nervous. For his part, Sen’s initial instinct was to flatly refuse her. Sen liked Chan Yu Ming. He had deep respect for her martial skills. He enjoyed flirting with her and suspected that, if things continued on as they had been, the two would probably enjoy each other in bed as well. Yet, exactly none of that mattered to the decision in front of him. What mattered was his safety and the safety of those around him. He was acutely aware that he knew next to nothing about the young woman. She had been secretive about her past. He, of all people, could appreciate that someone might have information about their past that they didn’t want to share. He certainly kept plenty back. Even so, he wasn’t asking her to take him along. His secrets weren’t going to prove a threat to her.

Still, she might be useful. Anyone who could stand toe-to-toe with him while wielding a jian was a potentially valuable asset that he wasn’t in a great hurry to throw away. She was another core cultivator, which could help secure their safety in a bad situation. In the end, though, he didn’t understand her motives. Why was she so eager to come along? So, he just looked at her while trying to decide what he should say. More specifically, he was trying to decide what he should ask. When it became obvious that she was getting ready to simply flee to escape the shame or awkwardness, he relented.

“What could possibly make you want to come with me? There’s no treasure or secret knowledge waiting for you at the end of this journey. No promise of advancement or enlightenment. I’m the only person who stands to get any real benefit from going to the capital. Plus, that’s not a guarantee. I’ve mostly resigned myself to the idea that I’m going to have to go and bargain with a mad demi-god, which doesn’t stand to benefit anyone else either. Even I’m not good-looking enough for that to be a sufficient reason to face all of that. So, what’s your angle?”

It was Chan Yu Ming’s turn to be quiet for a long time. Sen got the impression that she was hoping that he’d just move on from the question, but he waited her out. It wasn’t a question he could just ignore. Maybe, if it had just been his life on the line, he might have been willing to just go with it the way he had with Lifen. Things had changed a lot since then. He might have his issues with Lo Meifeng and dislike Shi Ping, but that was miles away from being ready to risk their lives by making stupid, uninformed choices when he didn’t have to do so. Much more importantly to him personally, Falling Leaf’s life was in the balance. Bringing someone along without knowing what they wanted could put her in jeopardy. That was simply unacceptable. He couldn’t protect her from every danger, but he could damn well protect her from him being a moron.

The irony was that he didn’t need Chan Yu Ming to have some noble reason for wanting to come along. It just needed to be a reason that made sense, something that could compel someone to want to face those risks. In anything, he’d be more comfortable if she had some wildly selfish purpose for wanting to come along. If it was all about her, she’d be more likely to act for their common good until she got what she wanted. Granted, it’d be anyone’s guess what she’d do after that, but selfishness was reassuringly predictable up until people reached their goals. Chan Yu Ming seemed to accept that he wasn’t just going to breeze past the question if she said nothing for long enough.

“Does it matter?” she asked.

“You know it matters. You’re smart enough to know why it matters, too.”

Heaving a sigh and never quite meeting his eyes, she whispered, “I think you’re going to change the world.”

Of all the words that might have fallen out of her mouth, those words had not been anywhere on Sen’s list of predictions. He’d thought she was going to say something like she wanted to meet Feng Ming or that she expected that he would, in fact, lead her to a treasure or secret knowledge. Her actual reason sounded…absurd. It wasn’t that he thought she was lying. She’d looked far too embarrassed for that. It was that he knew that he wasn’t going to change the world. No one could do that. He honestly had his doubts that he’d survive this world long enough to possibly ascend to something better. He considered her words for a moment longer before he nodded.

“Then, the answer is no.”

At that, Sen made to walk away, but she grabbed his arm.

“What? Why? I told you the truth.”

“I believe you, and that’s the problem. That’s a terrible reason because it can only end in one way.”

“What way?” she demanded, anger and hurt making her voice husky.

“It’ll end in disappointment. I’m not some hero out of legend or some destined king. I’m a wandering cultivator who can’t stay out of trouble even when I’m trying. I won’t change the world. Eventually, you’ll realize that, and you’ll be disappointed. Maybe you’ll be disappointed in yourself for ever thinking it. You’ll definitely be disappointed in me for not living up to your expectations,” said Sen, and then he softened his voice. “It probably doesn’t look like it, but you should consider this a kindness, Yu Ming. I’m sparing you from all of that.”

“It isn’t your place to decide what I’ll believe.”

“No,” agreed Sen. “It isn’t, and I’m not telling you what to believe. But it is my place to make the best choices I can with everyone’s best interests in mind. It’s not in everyone’s best interests to let you come along if that’s why you want to come. What happens if, in the middle of a fight, you see me do something that shakes that belief? How would you react?”

Chan Yu Ming pursed her lips before she said, “I don’t know.”

“Neither do I. Would you want me along if you had that kind of uncertainty?”

She lowered her gaze to the ground and said, “No. I wouldn’t.”

“Look, I’m not saying that I want you to avoid me forever. I’d actually be really disappointed if you did.”

She looked up at that. “Oh, why is that?”

“It’s not often I can find someone who can push me to improve my jian skills.”

“Is that it?”

“And,” said Sen, dragging out the word, “we never did have that abduction.”

“No,” said Chan Yu Ming wistfully, “we didn’t.”

“So, we’ll have to take care of that at some point.”

She gave him a small smile. He could tell that she was still angry and hurt, but not quite as angry or hurt as she had been. Sen supposed that only time would smooth those troubled waters. He gave her another bow.

“Be well, Chan Yu Ming.”

“Be well,” she said, returning the bow and smirking, “Judgment’s Gale.”

Sen repressed his urge to beg her not to call him that. He suspected it wouldn’t help. He walked back over to the group, where everyone gave him curious looks.

“I expected her to ask to come along,” said Lo Meifeng.

“She did.”

“And?”

“I said no.”

Lo Meifeng and Shi Ping both looked a little shocked, while Falling Leaf looked untroubled. Sen waited to see if there would be more questions, but no one asked any. He didn’t expect that would last for long. So, he took advantage of the moment and started walking toward the compound gate. He wanted to put some figurative and literal distance between them and this place. Once that was done, he could finally get some sleep. Even if qi reinforcement and body cultivation could keep him going, even now, he still needed real rest on occasion. Falling Leaf fell into step beside him, looking at the water cultivators and their compound with her ever-curious eyes as they walked past them. Shi Ping and Lo Meifeng fell in behind them a moment or two later as their surprise wore off.

Sen didn’t bother looking at or speaking with anyone as marched through the heart of the Clear Spring sect. He’d already said everything he meant to say. He thought there might be trouble at the gate when he saw the patriarch standing there. Sen didn’t really want to do it. He didn’t think the man deserved it, but there were proprieties to be observed. He paused just long enough to give the patriarch the bow his position demanded. The man looked a little mournful, but he just returned the bow and gestured. The guards opened the gates and let them pass. The small group marched out of the sect compound without a backward glance and set off on the road headed north.

Sen kept them moving at a fast pace for nearly six hours before he finally called a halt. He’d noticed a spot with an abundance of earth qi, and he wanted something a little more solid than a tent around him while he slept. Much as he had done back in the fire cultivator valley, Sen pushed his own qi down into the earth. All of the extra earth qi in the area made the work much simpler this time and soon a stone building with formations embedded in its walls emerged from the ground. While Lo Meifeng and Falling Leaf had seen him do such a thing before, Shi Ping gaped at the feat of crafting.

“Did you just…,” Shi Ping began.

“Yes,” said Sen, cutting off the question. “I just made this. Now, I’m probably going to sleep for the next day or two. Wake me up if the end of the world happens.”

“What if there are more assassins?” asked Falling Leaf with brutal practicality.

“Yeah, then too,” answered Sen around a yawn.

At that, Sen opened the heavy stone door to the house and walked in to pick a room for himself. I should give these stone houses a name if I’m going to keep making them, Sen thought. What was that funny term that Falling Leaf used? Sen den? He considered that as he threw blankets onto the stone bed before rejecting the idea. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone except him and her. He flopped onto the blankets, and his eyes started closing of their own volition almost immediately. Something with house in the name, he wondered. I’ll ask the others. Maybe they’ll have an idea. Then, unconsciousness came to claim him and fill his mind with dreams of water, stone houses, and the hurt expression on Chan Yu Ming’s face.