John walked into the village in the glow of the setting sun. The soft rustle of wheat waving in the wind sent his mind drifting to the past. Every little diorama held a memory for him, the first field he worked with his father, playing with Violet in a field of flowers, running with a stick under the big tree on a hill. The ghosts of John's past assaulted him at every step, and John found himself getting emotional. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes and he had to stifle a sob. Every house he passed had the soft glow of candles and cooking fires, the bustle and noise of an ordinary, happy family life. These people, these families would never welcome him any more. No mortal wanted to deal with a cultivator. Cultivators are synonymous with disaster.

And now John was the disaster, walking through town.

Would his family even want to see him any more? John held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut. It was the only way he could keep down the wellspring of melancholy and sorrow.

Eventually, inch by inch, he made his way to the door of his childhood home. He could barely hear the muffled conversation inside, pots and cups clattering. John was struck suddenly, not knowing what to do. Always, he had simply walked through the door, without consideration. Should he knock? How was John supposed to know? How should he act around his family after all these months? It had been well before the wheat was planted when he left. No one could prepare you for the estrangement in your own heart.

After standing there for a full minute, John worked up the nerve to raise his fist and knock. One beat against the door was all he got.

The door swung open fast, his father standing there in equal parts shock and joy, tears already in his eyes.

"Son!"

"Dad!" John couldn't help it any more, huge sobs poured out of his heart like a breaking dam and he crashed into his dads bear hug.

"John!"

"John!"

His mom and sister cried out at the sight of him and joined the two men in a group hug, weeping and crying in relief and reunion.

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They stayed like that for some time.

Eventually Damian cracked a joke about being squeezed in half if John hugged him any longer, and John let up. He was still superhumanly strong, after all. Tears were wiped and noses blown. His family was about to dish up dinner when he arrived. John's heart panged when he saw that his place setting was done up for him.

"We always set it up for you, just in case." His mom explained.

John wanted to cry again, but nothing was left for sadness, so he could only smile. John even pulled out his mother and sisters chairs for them like a gentleman he had never really been.

They had beef and barley stew with freshly baked bread to sop with. It was the best food John had ever tasted.

After the joy of their reunion and sharing dinner died down, John shared his story of being a cultivator. He didn't explain any of the strange visions, or the awful treatment he had received during his initiation. He focused on the positives and little details. How he was one of the best cultivators in his cohort, the first to advance! How he met two friends, Mark and Chloe, who followed him around and shared cultivation tips. The endless rainfall and grand design of the sect. The power and dignity of the Elders he had seen. How lush and vibrant the herb garden had been. How he met a princess and a prince that were engaged but didn't want to be. His family oohed and ahhed appropriately, asking questions here and there.

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These little white lies would keep them comforted when he left again, maybe for the final time.

John learned of the village's bewilderment after the mass fainting attack. How Damian had worked with some of the other fathers to till and plant a bigger plot this year--on track for a bumper crop! How 'little Violet', however much she protested at the diminutive, had helped the farm work in his absence. John was both relieved that they were fine and melancholy that he had missed so much, and would miss even more.

The biggest shock came when Charlotte revealed she was pregnant with a third child.

"Another sibling?!" John was extremely surprised. Violet was fourteen, that was a heck of a gap.

"It just wasn't the same with so little commotion at home." She was a little bashful. His dad reached over to hold her hand on the table and looked at her with such intense love that it silenced John.

John hoped he could have something like this, one day. It might never happen given how different cultivator's lives were. Chloe was throwing herself at him, but it was more lusty and teasing than loving.

The conversation went on like that deep into the night, everyone was loath to sleep, keeping the moment alive until the absolute necessity of sleep caught them. John's father grumbled about needing to reap the fields in the coming days.

"I can help with that!" John was elated to be of use to his family, given the chance. Never before had he been so eager for chores, but his dad accepted his help gracefully. Retiring for the night, John's room was well kept. Mostly everything was in the same place, though much cleaner than he had ever kept it. Once again John had to smile for lack of tears.

His bed was lumpy compared to the luxury of his home in the sect, and he didn't quite fit anymore thanks to the improvements to his physique, but for tonight, he wouldn't have it any other way.

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That next morning was slightly cooler, and had the chill of the autumn harvest.

John laughed brightly during breakfast--a relatively simple porridge almost identical to the kind he regularly had in the sect. John told his family that he could stay for another day and a half before needing to return. They were a little saddened at the short duration, but there was nothing to be done about it. They would have to enjoy the time he was with them, though his mom lobbied for him to return as often as possible.

Eventually, John was standing out next to the wheat field with his father. John's old work clothes didn't fit, and he couldn't bring himself to wear any of his father's spares, so he was still in his Rainy Cloud Sect robes.

His dad eyed him, "So, John. How much faster can you work now?"

"Just watch."

John fanned out bundles of qi in front of him, almost reaching the center of the field. He had to account for some small shifts in the height of the ground, and needed enough support to form a good enough edge, but with his natural talent in manipulating qi it was easy. The bundles sharpened into scythes of epic proportion, and all at once they curled inward, reaping a huge swath all at once.

Damian's jaw dropped.

"Well I'll be--" John interrupted him, morphing his blades into individual strands again to sweep up the stalks of grain into piles. It wasn't perfect, John couldn't gather them into perfect sheaves, but he had still reduced the work load by magnitudes.

"Son, that might be the mightiest thing I've ever seen a cultivator do in my life."

John grinned. "Should we help the neighbors too?"

They finished off the field in a couple more passes, before going around the village to finish the harvest all in one morning. Many people were thrilled to see John back, and even more were thrilled when he did all the harvest work of the village with ease. Just as many were wary of him, which did ping John's heartstrings a little bit, but it was to be expected. As long as his family was happy with him, he didn't care what the neighbors thought.

It was decided among the adults that a bigger than usual harvest festival should be held. Normally there was a small get together, dancing and drinking, pot-luck dinner, etc. This year would be a real bash, a veritable banquet. Prized wine was brought out, a fattened pig was slaughtered, and a huge bonfire was lit in the center of the village. John dabbled here and there in the party, but mostly was subdued. Cultivators really could make the lives of mortals so much easier, with barely a thought, but John also understood why they didn't. There were threats and worlds that occupied cultivators that a mortal could never see and never understand. For now, John was just happy to spend another night with his family.

Lulled into such a contented state, he almost missed when the rancid sting of hostile Weird qi accosted his sense. Almost.