[Young Master Xian]—❈—58:: Conversations in a Cultivation Circle [I]

“You’re insane,” I say to the woman who birthed me.

“No, Qigang,” she says, “I am a cultivator.”

And with those words, she returns to her meal. Just like that.

I scowl at her, annoyed by her composure. A part of me wants her to be upset, troubled by my words, but I suppose that’s rather silly. My mother is centuries old; she’s likely lived through things that I probably have zero experience with.

The idea that some words I say to her over dinner, words that from her perspective are the silly ramblings of a child, will somehow shock or unsettle her, is laughable at best.

Not really having much of an appetite anymore, I sit back and calm myself with a deep, slow breath.

“You should eat,” Mother says. “You may need the energy.”

I frown again, but this time in suspicion. “Why? What will we be doing after dinner?”

Mother looks at me. “We’ll see,” she says.

Well, that’s not ominous at all.

When my two attempts to get her to tell me what exactly we’ll be seeing are met with silence, I give up and, taking her advice, eat my fill.

Done with dinner, I follow Mother out of the dining room to find Meng Yi and Xiuying waiting outside with other household staff.

Not stopping as she passes them, Mother points at Meng Yi. “Follow,” she commands.

Meng Yi obeys immediately, and I grab her wrist gently and stop her in her tracks.

After a few steps, Mother stops too and turns.

Meng Yi is throwing me all sorts of signals with her eyes along the lines of ‘please, don’t do anything rash’.

I ignore them all.

“Why do you need her?” I ask my mother, making an attempt to keep my tone from being too accusatory and suspicious.

Mother watches me quietly for several moments, then she answers simply, an aura of complete seriousness pouring forth from her. “I’m going to make you cripple her cultivation to prove your loyalty to the family.”

My heart seizes in my chest, and with her arm still in my grasp, I feel Meng Yi’s skin turn cold with fear.

Reactively, I pull her behind me and my qi flares so powerfully it blasts out as fire around me.

My muscles coil, tense, all of my senses primed for even the slightest shift from anyone.

I feel Xiuying move in behind me, covering my back, a snarling tiger prepared for the attack.

A second passes. Two. Three. There is no attack. No violence.

Instead, Mother tilts her head at me curiously.

“I don’t know whether to be amused that you believed me, or to be impressed that you would fight me to protect what is yours,” she says.

I blink at her words, then slowly, straighten.

“You weren’t serious,” I realise, starting to feel very foolish.

Behind me, I hear Xiuying say, “Wait, what?”

“No,” Mother says, eyes glinting at me with amusement, “but my scary face was very convincing, I’m sure.”

I stare at the woman, not even knowing where to start.

“That’s not the kind of thing to joke about," I say.

“Ordinarily no, but someone did tell me not too long ago to take joy in the little things,” she says.

My mouth drops open.

‘That doesn’t mean traumatize your son, you psychopath!’ I scream mentally.

Mother’s expression changes in some minute way, and I realize that the glint in her eyes isn’t from amusement but something else; pleasure... pride.

“I see you called upon your domain again,” she says.

My eyes widen, and I reach up to the top of my head, searching for the crown of gold and solar fire that should sit there.

I feel nothing.

“It’s gone now, Young Master,” Meng Yi helpfully informs me.

Oh.

Mother frowns. “You can’t sense it,” she says.

It isn’t really a question, but I answer all the same.

“No. It just pops up.”

She nods thoughtfully. “And for how long has it been... popping up?” she asks.

“This is the second time,” I say, then amend: “As far as I know.”

I look to Xiuying and Meng Yi for confirmation. They nod.

“Second time then,” I decide.

Mother looks thoughtful for a moment, then she turns and begins to walk off.

“Follow,” she says without even slowing. “You can bring the kitten too if it will make you feel better.”

Wait, by kitten does she mean... from the expression on Xiuying’s face, I surmise that yes, she’s the kitten.

Ouch.

Though, to be fair, the expression on her face at being called kitten is rather cute. What with the pouted lips.

Not calling her that to her face though. I choose life.

“Young Master,” Meng Yi says, drawing my focus, “we should follow.”

I look from my mother, still walking away at a leisurely pace, back to Meng Yi.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

She nods with resolve.

I turn to Xiuying.

She nods too.

“Okay then.”

We follow.

The trip, which takes us out of the manor, ends at Mother’s meditation room. Also known as a cultivation room, or an oasis.

For most people, or for me anyway, my oasis is a single, simple room with a peasant rank cultivation circle in the middle of the floor.

For Xian Qi, it is a house. Complete with a fucking sauna.

Seriously, rich people piss me the hell off.

Naturally, her cultivation circle is divine rank, and it is on this day that I learn that, while a peasant rank cultivation circle is a small thing on the ground barely big enough to fit two, a divine rank one is an entire fucking room, twenty feet in diameter.

We walk in, the soft brown rug that spans the room practically massaging our bare feet as we do.

Besides the rug, the room is bare, with smooth grey walls that are covered with symbols that warp and change, much like the ones on cultivation manuals.

That is the language of qi, studied by Qi Scribes and used in varying degrees in virtually every man-made object that utilizes qi.

Unbothered by the absence of furniture, Mother sits on the ground, legs crossing over each other with the ease a Yogi’s would.

I sit facing her, a few feet away.

Meng Yi and Xiuying stand.

“Can they sit?” I ask Mother.

She says nothing, simply watching me intently.

After several moments, I give up.

“Meng Yi, Xiuying, sit, please,” I say.

They hesitate for a breath and a half, but finally, they obey, placing themselves a step back on either side of me.

An errant thought almost makes me push back to be in line with them, but I hold back at the final moment.

This is uncomfortable enough for them.

No need to drag them any further into my little pettiness war with my mother.

Mother is still watching me intently, and despite my best efforts, it has begun to get a little discomforting.

Before I can remark on it however, she says, “It is a strange thing, seeing a stranger with your son’s face. I braced myself for it, and yet...”

Oh.

She looks... curious. Not sad, not aggrieved, not happy, or thankful, just curious. Like she’s trying to figure out her feelings on the matter.

If the shit-stain I used to be was a halfway decent human being, I might consider using a line like ‘it’s still me on the inside,’ even though it would hardly be true.

Old me was a piece of poop though, so I doubt that Mother wants to hear that.

After a few more moments, Mother seems to decide that the feelings she’s currently feeling are largely pointless, so like a proper cultivator, she squeezes them into a box, locks it, and throws away the key.

Which seems totally healthy.

Her pesky emotions under control again, Mother says, to Meng Yi oddly enough, “Why is there a piece of Qigang in your soul?”

All three of us still.

Before Meng Yi can answer, I ask, “How do you know that? Can you sense it?”

Because if it’s something that any sufficiently powerful cultivator can sense, then we’re several kinds of screwed.

To my great relief, Mother says, “No. I know it’s there because she led me right into her soul.”

What?

All eyes turn to Meng Yi, and hers widen in realization.

“When Senior Pan summoned the Matriarch,” she said, “I... I’d never sensed qi that powerful before, it overwhelmed me. I don’t know how I did it, but somehow I retreated to a sort of soul space.

“It was a colossal web. Of crystal and gold. I stood at the centre of it. The Matriarch came to me there.”

“That is the first layer of your soul,” Mother says. “Where your cultivation resides. It was a dangerous thing you did, showing me the way, you will need to learn to not do that.”

Meng Yi bows in acceptance of the mild chastising.

I turn to my mother. “How many layers does the soul have?” I ask, curious.

“Two. The cultivation and the personality. In congruence both fuse into one.”

I frown. “Mortals don’t have a cultivation though,” I say, and Mother blinks like she had never considered mortal souls before.

“I imagine they only have the personality then,” she says.

“May I ask a question, Matriarch?” Xiuying says, dipping her head low.

“Speak freely,” Mother says.

You know the more I think about it, the more it seems like Mother doesn’t really care much for the overly submissive kind of respect that most cultivators demand from those who serve them.

That’s good, I guess.

She’s still a jerk though.

Given permission to speak, Xiuying asks her question. “Since the first layer of the soul is the cultivation, does this mean that cultivation spirits reside there? Or are they outside entities you connect to?”

“They reside within your soul,” Mother says. “Cultivating a method means creating a copy of its Spirit to live within the first layer. Upon congruence, both layers fuse, melding the spirit with you and creating something new and whole.”

“So, in a way, it’s three parts becoming one,” I say.

“Exactly,” Mother says. “Two-thirds you, one-third something else, all one being.”

“Neat,” I say.

“Indeed,” Mother agrees. “Now, tell me why there is a piece of you in the girl.”

I sigh. “I was hoping you’d forgotten,” I say.

My mother looks at me like I’m an idiot.

Fair enough.

“I don’t really know what I did,” I admit. “I gave her a cultivation manual to cultivate, and as her cultivation was being... constructed, I guess, I just... knew. I knew that if I put my qi in a specific way in a specific place at a specific time, it would help her. It would make her better somehow.

“I can’t really explain it, I was in some sort of trance. I didn’t even recall that it happened until Xiuying brought it up.”

“You did more than simply put your qi in her, Qigang,” Mother says. “You planted a seed. One that has only begun to sprout.”

I look at Meng Yi, a little worried. In my head, a ridiculous image of a tree bursting out of her chest pops up.

I slap it away.

“What will this seed become when it matures?” I ask.

“I don’t know, Qigang,” she says. “You put it there.”

“But I thought we already established that I had no idea what I was doing?” I ask, genuinely confused.

Mother closes her eyes and takes a slow breath.

She looks to Meng Yi.

“Whatever it is, I know it is a boon to you,” she says. “You will need to nurture it, and you will need guidance in accessing your soul safely. Both of you.” Her eyes move to me. “Which brings me to another matter.

“Tell me about this Sun Emperor.”