Unintended Cultivator

“It was,” admitted Jing, “but maybe we shouldn’t change the subject just yet.”

“Do you really want to compare complaints right now? Because I just got taken through the city by what I assume were royal guards hand-picked because they walked slowly.”

“About that—” started Jing.

“Which has prevented me from maintaining even the tiniest shred of anonymity in a place where there are people who do not like me. At all,” said Sen, his voice dropping closer and closer to a growl. “So, I very much hope that this wasn’t just an exercise meant to keep your damn nobles in line.”

Jing looked a bit startled at those last words, and then it was his turn to wince. He raised his hands in a placating motion.

“I swear to you, this had nothing to do with the nobles. Not my nobles, at any rate.”

Sen blinked as he tried to parse meaning from those words.

“What does that mean?”

“The reason I wanted you to come is because I’m hosting some representatives from beyond our borders.”

“No, I still don’t see the connection.”

“There are those gaps in your education again,” said Jing, not unkindly. “On this side of the Mountains of Sorrow, cultivators and mortals have a sort of agreement. Sects manage themselves and cultivators, for the most part. Obviously, there are exceptions, such as yourself, but the majority of cultivators answer to a sect. It maintains some kind of order among people who would otherwise be walking disasters. In exchange for not interfering too much with the sects, mortals are generally left to rule themselves,” said Jing, raising a hand to stop the flood of angry objections that were about to pour out of Sen’s mouth. “It’s not perfect. I won’t pretend it’s perfect. We both know that cultivators are often a menace. Destroying things. Killing each other. Killing mortals. Making people think the world is ending.”

“Point taken,” said Sen, letting his hostility toward sects subside.

“Good. Now, that’s how things are done here. Things are a lot more complicated beyond those mountains. There are places there where cultivators are the nobility and royalty.”

That gave Sen pause. Cultivators as nobility? As royalty?

“Why in the thousand hells would they do something that stupid?” asked Sen.

Jing assumed a look that was quite familiar to Sen. It was the same look the man had worn when he was giving Sen lessons about the mortal politics of the capital several years earlier. So, it didn’t come as much of a surprise when Jing asked a question instead of providing an answer.

“What are cultivators seeking?” asked Jing.

“Ascension,” Sen answered automatically.

“How many achieve it?”

Sen felt stupid, already seeing where this was going now that Jing had pointed the way.

“Not many,” answered Sen.

“Yet, even if they fail to ascend, they have strength, power, and long lives. If it becomes clear that they’ll never reach their goal, what are they to do with those things?”

“Apparently, set themselves up as political powers.”

“Just so. And, loathe as I am to admit it, there are even a few benefits to that approach.”

“Why am I so dubious?”

“Because you don’t trust anyone, but that’s a different matter,” said Jing with a smile. “One of the most perilous times for any kingdom is during a succession. Kings don’t just hold power because they have the name. They also build relationships or, barring that, hold dangerous secrets over the heads of their nobles. When the old king dies, all too often, those relationships and secrets die with them. The new king must hold the throne until he can forge alliances and learn secrets of his own. Which is to say nothing of the threats that can come from within your own house. Siblings killing each other is a sad fact in many royal families.

“Most of those problems disappear or are at least pushed far, far down the road if your king will sit on the throne for a thousand years. It’s even more true if that king has very few enemies with the ability to kill them. They offer stability in their territory. A stability that no mortal royal family can ever hope to equal. Stability often goes hand-in-hand with prosperity, although not always. Not all kings are equally talented.”

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Sen grudgingly conceded the logic, even if he shuddered at the idea of a cultivator-king. Yeah, it could be a good thing but only if a lot of things aligned in just the right way. Sen could easily see any number of young masters being absolute horrors in a position of authority like that. Of course, if there were already kingdoms being run that way, why hadn’t they simply overrun all the mortal-ruled kingdoms on this side of the mountains? When Sen posed that very question, Jing nodded in approval.

“There are, thankfully, several reasons for that. The most salient reason is that they’re usually focused on fighting with each other or, minimally, keeping each other in check. Beyond that, it’s complicated and expensive to seize and hold land that is over a difficult-to-traverse mountain range. A final reason is the existence of the sects. I know you despise them, but they are a strategic deterrent to would-be cultivator warlords. Individually, they might not be a particular threat, but collectively they are a monumental force.”

Sen desperately wanted to poke holes in what Jing was saying but this was not Sen’s area of expertise. More to the point, he didn’t believe Jing was wrong about any of it. He just wanted the king to be wrong about it, so he could go on thinking that every sect burning to the ground would be a boon to the world. He didn’t want to see them as contributing anything positive. A sinking feeling took hold as Sen realized something. If I were a normal cultivator in a sect, I would probably be five hundred years old, maybe older, before any of this became remotely relevant to me. These were the kind of concerns that elders, patriarchs, and matriarchs worried about. People with real influence and true power. People like me, thought Sen. A feeling of deep inadequacy washed over Sen. He’d been a nobody, living on the streets in probably the least important town in the kingdom less than fifteen years before. Now, he was standing in the throne room, talking with the king, discussing the importance of the sects in deterring cultivator-kings from invading the kingdom. I don’t belong here, thought Sen. I’m not ready for any of this.

As if he could read Sen’s thoughts, Jing said, “Terrifying, isn’t it? Getting a clear view of the big picture? Seeing just how precarious the balance of forces really is?”

“Yeah. Honestly, I’m inclined to pack up and leave right now before I get pulled deeper into any of this,” said Sen in a weak voice when a thought struck him. “You know, I think we kind of got off-topic. Just why am I here? You said something about hosting representatives, but you weren’t too specific about what you’re hosting them for. Come to think of it, you didn’t say anything about what I’m supposed to be doing in all of this.”

“Ah, that. Some of the people I’m hosting are cultivators. While I’d love to believe that none of them are planning to assassinate me, it’d be unforgivably stupid of me to assume that none of them are thinking about seizing the opportunity. I’m new to the throne, which makes this an ideal time for one of them to eliminate me and launch an invasion.”

“Didn’t you say that doing that would be complicated and expensive?” asked Sen.

“I did,” agreed Jing. “Complicated and expensive doesn’t make something impossible, though. Especially if you have five hundred years to plan it. Which brings me to you. Chan Dishi is here to be my very obvious bodyguard.”

Sen mulled it over.

“So, you want me to be your less obvious bodyguard?”

“I’d certainly welcome that if someone does try to kill me, but I mostly just want you in the room.”

“Why?”

“Because, to them, you’re an unknown quantity. A tremendously powerful cultivator who very publicly executed a nascent soul cultivator just prior to entering the city with a royal guard escort. A man who warrants a private meeting with the king. That’s the kind of man who will make people think twice before they attempt an assassination. At the very least, you’ll keep them unbalanced.”

Sen was quiet for a long time as he thought all of that over.

“I owe you. It’s why I’m here. I even understand your reasoning. But this is a big ask. You’re putting me directly in the way of cultivators who, up until now, were either not interested in me or didn’t know I existed. You and I both know that will have consequences for me. Consequences that could well haunt me long after your reign is over,” said Sen, pausing as he considered his next words. “More importantly, it could have consequences for my daughter.”

For the first time in the conversation, Jing seemed truly at a loss for words.

“Your daughter? I wasn’t aware you were with anyone.”

“I’m not. She was orphaned. Her whole village was destroyed by bandits. No family left to take her in. So, I adopted her.”

“Orphan,” murmured Jing. “I see. And the bandits?”

“They won’t be bothering anyone. Ever.”

“Good. That’s for the best. I’d have had to send troops out to destroy them. We can’t let something like that go unpunished,” said Jing before he gave Sen a questioning look. “You haven’t said no, yet, even though I’m quite certain you want to. I take it that means you want something. Did you have something in mind?”

Sen had some vague notion that he wanted something out of the deal to make it worth the present and potential future hassles. The longer he thought about it, the more problems he could see. What could possibly make up for all of that potential trouble coming to his door? He couldn’t think of anything. Sure, he could always just move on, or go live in the wilds if it came down to it. But that would be no kind of life for Ai. No home. No roots. No potential to build a life for herself separate from him. He couldn’t do that to her. A mad idea hit him then. He dismissed it for madness, but it came back. Insistent. Nagging. He weighed it, almost dismissed it again, and finally decided that maybe it did have some merit. It’d be utterly worthless to him. In fact, it would be nothing but headaches for him but not for Ai.

Grinning a little, Sen said, “The House of Xie is going to disappear, but their holdings and business concerns won’t.”

Jing frowned and asked, “And?”

“This is what I want. The House of Lu.”