K.J.Clay
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Chapter 6 - Revelation
🕑 Added 2024-07-07 22:07:30 +0000 UTCAs expected, his mother is… less than impressed with him.
She seems sweet and loving most of the time, but if he manages to cross the line, the gloves well and truly come off. His ears are still ringing. Naturally, he is banned – again – from going out into the forest and lighting fires.
For whatever reason, she refuses to believe that he could actually be a cultivator, instead somehow convincing herself that he snuck off with some friends to cause mischief.
He has no idea where she gets these ideas from – the only other people he spends any amount of time with are Auntie Hua (who is even more wary of the forest than his mother) and Meilan, who is much too well-behaved to try anything like that.
Regardless, he apologises and promises not to do it again, fooling neither of them.
Spring cleaning was the kind of activity that he neither loved nor hated. It was a something that had to be done, so he did it – nothing more needed to be said or done about it.
His mother vehemently disagreed.
Auntie Hua and Meilan were sent invitations weeks in advance, snacks were prepared, and ironically, the house was scrubbed from top to bottom in preparation for the cleaning itself.
He didn’t precisely track the logic, but then again, he didn’t understand half the festivals and events this place had. He just shrugged and figured it was a cultural thing.
The expressions on Auntie Hua’s and Meilan’s faces as they arrived early the following day proved that, no, his mother was just weird. Despite his reluctance, he soon found himself swept up in the buzz of activity and cheerful chatter.
He found himself feeling rather smug about how a few hours in the others were starting to slow down and complain about aches while he kept going strong. Using his otherworldly cultivation powers to dunk on everyone by cleaning for longer than they could might be petty, but he wasn’t perfect.
Despite the supposed purpose of the day, it quickly became apparent that the real goal was less about scrubbing and more about spending time together. They worked alongside each other, laughing and trading jokes.
It was… nice.
The atmosphere was light and relaxed, a far cry from the usual sternness and exacting standards his mother exhibited when it came to cleaning. He had to bite back a laugh as he realised that was why she had insisted on cleaning in advance – she didn’t think Auntie Hua and Meilan would meet her standards.
As the afternoon sun began to dip, casting a warm glow through the windows, his mother clapped her hands to gather everyone’s attention.
“Alright, let’s move the dining table so we can clean underneath it properly,” she announced, eyeing the large, heavy timber piece that dominated the dining room.
He shrugged, moving forward and getting a good grip on it.
“Oh, darling, I think—” his mother cut herself off as he rose smoothly, turning and depositing the table off to one side.
“Oh,” she said softly.
He looked up curiously, taking in the expressions on everyone’s faces with no small amount of confusion. All he did was move the… table. The heavy, solid timber table.
“Huh,” he said, taken aback. He genuinely hadn’t even noticed the weight – or rather, he had noticed it was heavy, but it had felt more like a few bags of groceries than a solid piece of furniture.
This was… not actually a bad thing?
He had been telling his mother he was a cultivator for a while now – granted, mostly because she didn’t believe him, and it was funny to see her expressions, but still.
He offered a slightly nervous smile.
“I told you so?”
Nobody else seemed amused.
The aftermath of his inadvertent reveal was more than a little awkward. Initially, both his mother and Auntie Hua had gotten annoyed at him, but pointing out that he had explicitly told them took the wind out of their sails a little.
It took a few days, but things slowly settled back to normal, though there was a newfound tension in the air. His mother seemed lost in thought more often than usual, and he could feel her eyes on him when she thought he wasn’t looking. Auntie Hua was a little more reserved as well, though it seemed more out of awkwardness than anything else. She seemed a little unsure how to treat him now – on the one hand, he was practically family; on the other hand, he was going to be a cultivator proper one day, and everyone knew that it was best to be polite.
It made for an odd dichotomy – she would scold him for tracking mud in the house one moment, then offer to clean it up the next. It was an... uncomfortable look into how the average person felt about cultivators. The stories he had read all talked about cultivators like they were the best thing since sliced bread, but he had wondered about the practicalities of having superpowered people running around.
How would the laws apply to someone who could move faster than the eye could see? This wasn’t even like the comics he had read as a child – at least in those, the authorities had some measure of power, even if it was just in being able to track villains down using CCTV or something.
Here… well, there was a reason the traders that came through the town talked about bandits in hushed tones. There was very little in the way of enforcement outside of the cities.
Meilan, on the other hand, thought the whole thing was fantastic, which was something of a balm to his nerves. She kept bouncing around and asking if he had figured out how to do any ‘awesome techniques’ yet, not fazed in the least when he said no.
His mother… was complicated. Fortunately for his peace of mind, she didn’t treat him any differently – she certainly wasn’t shy about twisting his ear when he left the dishes out – but sometimes, he caught her watching him with a strange look on her face. It was one part pride, one part longing, one part grief, like she already knew about his resolve to follow the path of cultivation regardless of the cost and was just counting the days until he left.
Neither of them were the type to talk about their feelings, though, so the unspoken tension remained unspoken.
A few more days passed in this strange, quiet equilibrium. He continued his daily routines, helping around the house, practising his cultivation techniques, and occasionally sneaking off to the forest despite his mother’s warnings. The air seemed thicker with unsaid words and unexpressed emotions, but he tried to ignore it as best as he could.
One morning, his mother called him into the kitchen. Her expression was calm, but he could see the resolve behind her eyes. She had been thinking and planning, and now she was ready to act.
“Zhujiao,” she began, her tone even, “I’ve made some arrangements for you.”
He tilted his head slightly, curious but wary. This could be about anything – his chores, another festival he didn’t understand, or something entirely different.
“I spoke with some of the hunters in town,” she continued, her gaze steady on his. “They’ve agreed to take you out with them, teach you what they know. Tracking, hunting, surviving in the wild.”
He blinked, processing her words.
That was… not what he expected. He knew, of course, that hunting was much more prevalent here than in his last life – obviously food had to come from somewhere, and it wasn’t like they had the industry to support massive beef farms – but it wasn’t something he’d ever really considered doing himself.
He turned the thought over in his mind, examining it from different angles. It made sense, he realised after a moment. His mother had clearly come to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to be sticking around town for his whole life, and learning to hunt was an eminently practical skill, and not just for the food it would provide. Knowing how to fend for himself in the wilderness would be invaluable, especially if he had to travel.
“What do… should I… prepare anything?” he asked, suddenly feeling a little nervous. Judging by the sudden rush of anxiety, all those years with minimal social interaction were coming back to bite him.
“Wear some old clothes you don’t mind getting dirty,” she said with a faint smile. “They’ll provide whatever else you need.”
He nodded, swallowing the questions he had about what this cost and if they could afford it. Clearly his mother had already organised anything, and she wasn’t the type to second guess herself, so it was a moot point anyway.
They’re good men,” she added, a hint of a smile touching her lips. “They’ll show you the ropes. It’s important you learn these skills, no matter where your path takes you.”
“Thank you,” he said, the words feeling inadequate but necessary.
She just nodded, a strange mix of pride and sorrow flickering across her face. “You’ll start tomorrow,” she said simply.
The next morning dawned bright, clear, and cold. He’d always been a morning person – something about watching the sun peek over the horizon was better than caffeine could ever be.
His mother had told him to meet the hunter at the edge of the forest at first light, which was rather startling to him.
He already knew that people here were a little more lax about child safety than in his previous life, but just ‘head off to that forest I keep telling you to stay away from; a total stranger will meet you there and teach you how to kill things’ was stretching things further than he was completely comfortable with.
Still, he had promised to obey, so as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, he made his way to the designated spot. The forest loomed ahead, its shadows long and deep, the early morning mist clinging to the underbrush.
He didn’t have to wait long before he heard the crunch of footsteps on the frost-covered ground. Emerging from the forest were two figures: an older man with a stern, weathered face and a teenage boy who looks at Zhujiao like he’s something smeared across the bottom of his shoe.
“Morning,” the older man greeted gruffly, his voice like gravel. He looked Zhujiao up and down, his gaze critical. “You Lin Mei’s kid?”
“Uh, yes,” he managed after a moment.
The man grunted, his eyes flicking to the teenager beside him. “I’m Wei. This is Jin. He’ll help out.” Jin barely acknowledged the introduction, his lip curling slightly as he looked at Zhujiao.
“Hi,” he said, forcing himself to meet the older boy’s gaze. Jin snorted and turned away, clearly unimpressed.
That… could be a problem.
As sheltered as he was, even Zhujiao knew that Wei agreeing to teach him wasn’t a simple matter. In this world there wasn’t anything like a standard education – most children learned everything they needed to directly from their parents. Skills would be passed down through the family from generation to generation, and were jealously hoarded.
If a person wanted to choose a different path in life and learn a skill outside of their family, they had to find a master willing to pass on their skills – but no master wanted to teach their hard-won skills to someone who would just go off and teach others.
No, the master-student dynamic was important, and in some ways comparable to a family relationship. A student was like the master’s legacy, and would often inherit their masters possessions when the master died.
This meant that Jin’s reaction here wasn’t just born of personal dislike; it ran deeper. It suggested, perhaps, that Jin’s efforts were insufficient and that his master was looking for another student to replace him. While it wasn’t unheard of for a master to have multiple students, the introduction of another apprentice, especially one as seemingly inexperienced as Zhujiao, was a blow to his standing and recognition.
He sighs. And to think he was looking forward to a day learning cool things with minimal complications. That would teach him to be optimistic.
He has no idea what his mother could have possibly offered to get Wei to agree to teach him, considering he would absolutely be aware of how his student would take things. For all he knew, maybe Jin actually was incompetent and Wei was genuinely looking for a new student.
Either way, he can tell this isn’t going to be pleasant.
Wei seems to pick up on the tension, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked between the two boys. “Let’s get moving,” he said curtly, turning and heading into the forest without waiting for a response.
Jin snickered, falling into step beside Zhujiao. “Hope you’re not afraid of getting a little dirty, kid.”
He rolls his eyes, already wishing he was comfortably meditating back home.
