Unintended Cultivator

Book 4: Chapter 37: Royals

Sen eyed Chan Yu Ming carefully. He was relieved to see that she gave her brother an exasperated look. He also took the precaution of cycling up some air qi and closing the room to listeners.

“Of course, I didn’t go falling in love. I just went looking for a better option.”

“A better option?” asked the prince. “What do you mean a better option?”

Before Chan Yu Ming could say anything, the prince held up a hand to stop her. He eyed Sen, frowned, and then turned his attention back to Chan Yu Ming. He studied her thoughtfully, then nodded.

“I see,” he said. “It could work. Maybe. It will require more than your usual level of subtlety.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chan Yu Ming demanded.

“I mean that this will require some subtlety. As a general rule, you don’t have any,” said the prince, giving his sister a smirk.

“I have plenty of subtlety. Don’t I, Sen?”

Chan Yu Ming and the prince both turned and looked at him. Chan Yu Ming stared at him expectantly, and the prince gave him an amused look. Sen looked from one to the other before he turned and gestured at the painting.

“Have you seen this painting, Chan Yu Ming? I rather like it. What do you think?”

The prince howled with laughter while Chan Yu Ming glared at him.

“So, you think I’m not subtle?” she said.

“I think we met because you challenged me on a battlefield. Then, you followed me when I left the Clear Spring sect. We haven’t been in subtle situations, so I lack the information to judge.”

“Battlefield?” asked the prince, all the humor gone in a flash.

“It was fine,” said Chan Yu Ming. “He only stabbed me a little.”

The prince turned a fierce look on Sen. “Stabbed?”

“In my defense, she challenged me.”

“It’s true,” said Chan Yu Ming. “I sought him out.”

The prince frowned unhappily before curiosity seemed to win out.

“And you won?” the prince asked Sen.

Sen nodded. “I did.”

“He was trained by Feng Ming,” added Chan Yu Ming. “I couldn’t pass up that opportunity.”

That got the prince’s attention, and he gave Sen another appraising look. “I suppose I should have guessed. It would have taken training like that to beat my sister, at least if what her teachers say is true.”

“It’s true,” said Sen. “She’s very, very good.”

“I was under the impression that ancient cultivators like that don’t usually take students.”

Sen shrugged. “They don’t.”

“Then, why you?”

“I honestly don’t know. If I had to guess, I think I was just in the right place at the right time.”

“So, mere luck?”

“No,” said Chan Yu Ming. “It wasn’t mere luck.”

Sen and the prince both looked to Chan Yu Ming.

“How so?” asked the prince.

“I saw what he could do. The part he conveniently left of that story about the battle was how it ended.”

“We really don’t need to talk about that,” said Sen in a pained voice.

“We do,” said Chan Yu Ming. “He stopped it, Jing. Personally. It was one of the most terrifying, awe-inspiring things I’ve ever seen.”

The prince gave his sister a penetrating look. “How does one man, even one cultivator, stop a battle by himself.”

“He made a technique that covered the sky in darkness and fire, suppressed everyone on the field with a killing intent like nothing I’ve ever seen or felt before, and threatened to put a stop to the battle by simply killing everyone there.”

The prince was silent for a long moment as he stared at Sen. “And that worked? They believed him? They believed he could do it?”

“They didn’t believe anything, Jing. He could have done it.”

“Don’t oversell it,” said Sen hastily, before he turned his gaze on the prince. “I could not have killed everyone on that battlefield. There were at least a thousand cultivators fighting, and several of them were of a higher cultivation level than me.”

“I see,” said the prince. “So, you could only have killed almost everyone on the field.”

“There’s no way to be sure,” Sen hedged. “A lot of people would have died if I’d used the technique I made. More than any sane person would want on their conscience.”

“Would you have done it, if they didn’t capitulate?”

“Capitulate?” asked Sen, glancing at Chan Yu Ming.

“Surrender,” she said.

Sen let that question hang for a moment before he said in a very quiet voice, “Yes.”

The prince nodded before he clasped his hands behind his back. He went back to studying the painting for a time. Sen suspected the man wasn’t really looking at it, so much as using it as an excuse not to speak until he’d finished thinking something through. It was a good tactic, and Sen tucked it away for later use.

“You know,” said the prince, “I really do like this painting. Do you think the proprietors will sell it to me?”

“You know they will,” said Chan Yu Ming dismissively. “Who would say no to you?”

“Him, for one,” said the prince, waving a hand at Sen. “Although, Tiu Li-Mei said he was very polite about it.”

“He doesn’t count.”

“Oh?” asked the prince. “Why is that?”

“He’s a wandering cultivator, for one. They only have a vague relationship with mortal power structures at the best of times. Beyond that, he spent years training with not just one, but three nascent soul cultivators. His perspective on power is skewed.”

Sen opened his mouth to object, considered it, and then said, “She’s probably right.”

The prince nodded in acknowledgment before he looked at Chan Yu Ming. “It can work, but you’ll need assistance. Minimally, you’ll need mother.”

Chan Yu Ming grimaced. “She won’t help.”

The prince rolled his eyes. “You always think the worst of her.”

“She’s given me plenty of reasons.”

“Regardless, you’ll need her help. I suspect you’ll find her more, let us say, open to helping you in these circumstances. You aren’t the only one who has strong feelings regarding the house of Choi.”

Seething hatred radiated off of Chan Yu Ming as the mention of the house of Choi. “They make it easy to have strong feelings about them.”

“That much is certainly true,” said the prince, before he abruptly turned to Sen. “I apologize. I took your participation for granted. Do you understand what she intends?”

“I do.”

“And you’re inclined to participate?”

“I agreed before I was fully aware of her status,” said Sen, shooting Chan Yu Ming a hard look that made her blush, “but yes.”

“Have you prepared him?” asked the prince.

Chan Yu Ming blushed a little more and said, “About that. I could use your help as well.”

The prince gave his sister a disapproving look that was profoundly paternal in nature before he shook his head. “I suppose it doesn’t interfere with my existing plans.”

Chan Yu Ming’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you.”

“Prepare?” asked Sen.

“There are things you need to know about,” she thought carefully, “the local situation. I can’t tell you because I don’t have the time. I should have already arrived at the palace. Jing can explain them to you. He can probably do it better than I can since I’ve been away the last few years.”

Sen wasn’t sure how he felt about getting foisted off onto the prince for some kind of rushed training on local politics. It wasn’t any doubts about the prince’s ability to provide the information, but the prince clearly had his own agenda regarding Sen. Still, he had squandered his opportunity to get that information from Chan Yu Ming, now he’d just have to make do with the resources available to him.

“Very well,” said Sen.

The prince nodded to him before he walked over to Chan Yu Ming. “It is good to see you again, Yu Ming. Even if it must be under these trying circumstances. I’ve missed you. You always keep things interesting.”

Chan Yu Ming smiled up at her brother. “I missed you, as well. Even if you do insist on being painfully boring.”

The pair laughed at what Sen realized must have been some inside joke.

“You should go,” said the prince. “You know how father will be if you take too long, and I need to speak with Lu Sen on a few matters.”

Chan Yu Ming nodded and looked at Sen. “Try not to do any you things before we get this all settled.”

“Me things? What do you mean, me things?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” she said. “No exposing demonic cabals. No infuriating sects. No terrifying acts of qi mastery.”

“I’m not saying that I agree with any of that, but I’ll try.”

Rolling her eyes, Chan Yu Ming left the two men alone in the room again. Once they were both sure she was gone, the prince turned another of those assessing looks on Sen.

“You like her,” said the prince.

“We’ve had some differences of opinion but yes, I guess I do.”

“Do you plan to marry her?”

Sen gave the prince a shocked look. “No. Not before we get to know each other a lot better than we do, at any rate. Plus, there’s the whole politics thing. I wasn’t lying when I said I try to keep out of it. I don’t think that cultivators should interfere. Like I told your sister, we’re just visitors in your world.”

“Visitors? What an odd way to describe it.”

“We aren’t really part of your world. Cultivators live by different rules. We have different expectations of each other. The entire goal of cultivation is ascension, to leave this world behind for another. How could we be anything but visitors?”

“A perspective I hadn’t considered, but fitting. As for marriage, don’t place too high a value on knowing the other person.”

“Why is that?”

“Familiarity is no guarantee of success. My wife and I were barely acquaintances when we wed. Now, I wouldn’t give her up for anything. I don’t mean to encourage you specifically with Chan Yu Ming. I just mean that a decision to make a marriage succeed is often more meaningful than attraction or knowledge about each other.”

Sen wasn’t entirely sure why the prince was sharing marriage tips with him, but he seemed to mean well. So, Sen tucked the tip away for later reflection.

“There were matters you wanted to discuss with me?” asked Sen.

“Yes. I understand what Chan Yu Ming stands to gain from all of this. I don’t understand what you stand to gain.”

Sen regarded the prince in silence before he made a decision. “There’s a cultivation resource I need, a manual, and she agreed to try and help me get it.”

“Try? You’re taking on a lot of personal trouble for something as intangible as someone trying to help you get what you need.”

“The manual is exceedingly rare. One of the sects in the city has a copy. I’m not confident I have the influence or resources to secure it on my own. I suspect a princess who is also a cultivator trying will go a lot farther than me trying.”

“Likely true, although the sects can be unpredictable in what they will and won’t do.”

“I know. They have their own politics.”

“Indeed. I cannot come to you every time we meet. Doing so once is explainable. You are, after all, a folk hero. I can claim curiosity. Doing so repeatedly will draw attention that neither of us would particularly enjoy. You will need to come to me at my home.”

“I can do that. How often?”

“For the moment, daily. It would be easier if you simply stayed there, but we need people to see you coming and going regularly for a time before that becomes practical. Arrive at midday. I’ll see to it that the guards know to let you in.”

Sen asked a few pertinent questions about where the prince’s home was located and how to get there. Then, stopping only long enough to buy the painting by dropping an obscene number of gold tael into the hands of the inn’s owner, the prince left. Sen stared at the empty spot on the wall where the painting had been. He felt Lo Meifeng come into the room behind him.

“So, how did that go?” she asked. “You didn’t start a war or anything, did you?”

Sen could see her smirk out of the corner of his eye. “No, I didn’t start a war. I’m just worried I’m in over my head with this.”

“Oh, now you’re worried about being in over your head. Well, I guess some progress is better than no progress.”