Sen had been so angry with Falling Leaf that heād stormed inside. He pretended he didnāt feel her eyes on him as he went. Heād argued with her in his head all the way to his room. She didnāt know what she was talking about. She was just a big cat. What could she possibly know about it?
āBears and wolves,ā he muttered. āWhat does that have to do with
anything
?ā
Yet, as he lay there, not sleeping, what she said kept circling around in his mind, refusing to let him rest, refusing to let him put away his troubles and have the sweet release of sleep. A little nagging part of him said that he was acting like a child. It told him that he was trying to ignore her because she didnāt just tell him what he wanted to hear. He rolled onto his side and tried to ignore that little voice, too. Except, she had
talked
to him. She hadnāt gestured or given him a serious look. Sheād actually talked to him. He knew it was hard for her. Sheād told him so. Theyād only traded a handful of words that one time. For her, that brief speech in the courtyard was a monumental number of words.
Why did it have to be those words
, he thought.
He tossed and turned for most of an hour before he gave up and just stared at the wall, thinking it over. It was her last words that truly haunted him. It is the only path forward. She hadnāt said it was the only path. He didnāt know exactly how it worked, but he knew that cultivation could be broken somehow. He could go back to being a regular person if he wanted it badly enough. As Sen tried to think his way around it, he knew that was the heart of the problem. He didnāt want to go back, not really. He didnāt want to forget what being a regular person was like. He didnāt want to treat regular people like they were beneath him. How could they be? The only reason he even had a family name was because Grandmother Lu had decided to give him one for her own reasons.
Going back, though, he couldnāt see himself doing that. Heād learned too much. Heād suffered too much to just throw that all away. No, going back wasnāt the solution to the problem. Heād held that idea in the back of his head from very nearly the first day with Master Feng, but it was long past time that he accepted that wasnāt some kind of escape hatch from cultivation. If going back wasnāt a real pathā¦
āItās the only way forward,ā Sen said. āForward.ā
Sen closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. If he was going to go forward, and thatās the only real way he could move, it didnāt come for free. He accepted thatās what heād really wanted. He wanted the strength and power that came with being a cultivator, but he hadnāt wanted to pay the price. Like it or not, and Sen most certainly didnāt like it, the cultivators had their own way of doing things. He wanted to go out and see the world. In fact, it was something he was increasingly sure heād
have
to do to keep advancing. Doing that meant he would, inevitably, come across other cultivators. They would expect him to know their rules.
Our rules
, he corrected himself. He was one of them. He might have trained differently than they did, but that wouldnāt matter to them.
The world of cultivators was a world of violence. Master Feng, Uncle Kho, and Auntie Caihong assured him that it was usually restrained violence, but violence was a fact of their existence. Fighting was the price heād have to pay to accomplish his own goals. He thought over his training. He had learned a lot, but had he really learned about fighting? His sparring matches with the older cultivators hadnāt felt like the fights heād had with noble brats in Orchardās Reach. Those long-ago fights had been hectic and frightening, with his heart pounding in his ears, and pain screaming for his limited attention. The sparring was all control and softened by the certainty that the other person would pull back before theyād risk a serious injury. That wasnāt to say that Sen thought what heād learned was useless. In a controlled situation, he expected that he would fare fine.
Yet, how often would he fight in a controlled situation? From their descriptions of the Jianghu, heād be fighting in forests, on the streets, and even inside of noodle shops. Heād have to worry about everything from spilled food to strewn bodies on the ground. His training had not prepared him for that. For that matter, he couldnāt even expect to only have to fight one person at a time. Heād learned that lesson often enough as a child. Cowards were cowards, and they ran in packs. He expected that was as true of cultivators as it was of regular people. He had not trained, not really, to fight multiple people at once. He knew that much of what heād learned could be used that way. Yet, knowing it and knowing how to do it was the difference between the moonās reflection on the water and the moon itself.
Sen thought about that for a long time, trying to understand the difference between what heād trained for and actual fighting.
Dueling
, he finally realized.
They trained me for dueling with other cultivators
. That would all be helpful enough when he actually dueled someone, but those painful memories of getting beaten by a group were seared deep inside Senās soul. He absolutely believed that cultivators would come for him as a group, at least if they thought no one could see. That meant that he needed to stop training to duel. He needed to train in how to fight. He might hate every minute of that fighting. He knew that heād avoid it whenever he could. At the end of the day, though, he wanted to be a cultivator. For whatever reason, fighting was the price on offer to keep participating.
āFine,ā he said to the empty room. āThen, Iāll learn to fight.ā
With the matter finally settled in his head, Sen was asleep in seconds.
***
Sen took the next morning to see if things looked different in the literal light of day. He knew that, sometimes, sleep provided perspective. Yet, the morning offered him no new revelations. If anything, he felt more confident that he had the right of things. So, that afternoon, Sen presented his thoughts to Uncle Kho. The cultivator was quiet for a long, long time before he finally spoke. Sen was surprised by the first thing the old cultivator said.
āSen, I know that Ming and I donāt present cultivators out in the world in the best light, but they arenāt all honorless dogs.ā
āTheyāre people, arenāt they?ā
āWell, yes, I suppose they are.ā
āIāve seen firsthand how honorable people treat those they see as weaker, as lesser, than themselves. As far as Iām concerned, they
are
all honorless dogs until they give me a very good reason to trust them. Iād be insane not to prepare for the possibility that theyāll attack me in groups when they think they can get away with it. Can you tell me they wonāt? Can you tell me it never happened to you?ā
Uncle Kho frowned and then shook his head. āNo, I canāt tell you that.ā
āThen, I need to learn how to
fight
, not duel. I need there to be a real risk of injury, just so I learn what to expect from my body. I probably canāt control all of those reactions, but I can learn to work around them. I need there to be more than one person to worry about. Iāve spent all my time learning how to focus on whatās in front of me, but thatās not how fights usually work in my experience. Itās the person you donāt see that gets you the first time. I have to get ready for
that
.ā
āVery well. I suppose we all have been working from a prettier picture than is realistic. I know better. Ming certainly knows better. The heavens know weāve both done enough fighting. Let me talk with Ming and Caihong. Weāll sort out the right kind of training. Donāt think this gets you out of spear training with me. I still have a lot to teach you before I unleash you on the world.ā
āUnleash?ā
Uncle Kho grinned. āDid I say unleash? I'm sure I meant send you. Yes, I have a lot left to teach before I send you out into the world.ā