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Chapter 34 - Taking Control

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Qi trickled into his dantian, drawn in through his breath and purified by the complicated path through his meridians. The cycling technique Lao Yi had devised for him was feeling more and more natural by the minute, and despite the trouble the old man had made for him, Zhujiao couldn’t help but feel a little grateful.

Cultivating like this was still slower than the method he had stumbled on all those years ago, but he couldn’t deny that the results were better. Over the last few hours, sitting on his little rooftop, he had managed to almost completely fill his dantian, and the Qi felt just as easy to manipulate as always.

A far cry from the fiery, unstable Qi he had harvested from the bonfires and Beast Core.

Zhujiao took a deep breath and let it out slowly, opening his eyes for the first time in… he didn’t really know, actually. Cultivating let him slip into a sort of half-aware state of meditation, during which he was only vaguely aware of the passage of time.

Judging by how his stomach was rumbling, as well as the position of the sun directly overhead, he estimated he had been cultivating solidly for at least six hours.

It was by far the longest he had ever gone, though towards the end, his concentration had started to waver.

He turned and rummaged through his bag, pulling out the bundle of dried fish he had purchased earlier in the day. Part of him wanted to keep cultivating, push forward to the point that he could compress his Qi into a single droplet of liquid, but…

Well, he didn’t really know how to do that yet. Not to mention that, for all he knew, it could take days of constant effort and be incredibly dangerous. No, the smart choice was to wait until his circumstances were less in flux.

Zhujiao couldn’t help but wonder what Lao Yi would think of that plan. The whole reason the old man had left was because he felt Zhujiao was oscillating between reckless abandon and cowardly inaction, after all. Which one would this decision count as?

He discarded the thought as he stood and stretched, feeling the stiffness in his legs ease as he slowly scanned the city below. From his vantage point, the rooftops stretched out in uneven lines, a patchwork of tiles and thatch that reflected the sun’s midday heat.

The city was built on a gentle slope, with the wealthier districts perched higher up, affording them a commanding view of the river and surrounding countryside. The buildings below became more compact and densely packed as the terrain sloped downward, leading towards the river that served as the city’s lifeblood.

He realised that this was the first time he’d had the opportunity to see what the terrain looked like outside the city. For the last few months, he had been stuck within its walls, and his memories of the journey here were mostly filled with pain and a vague sensation of movement.

Zhujiao couldn’t help but notice that from here, he could see the gate he and his mother had come through. Where his mother had…

He forced his attention elsewhere.

The river itself was a broad, meandering ribbon of silver, winding through the landscape with a lazy grace. It cut through the plains beyond the city, its banks lined with trees that offered a splash of green in the otherwise arid surroundings. In the distance, the plains gave way to rolling hills, their undulating forms casting long shadows in the afternoon sun. Zhujiao could just make out the faint outline of mountains far beyond the hills, a jagged line that seemed to mark the edge of the world.

Closer to the city, the river was busier, with small boats and larger barges moving steadily along its surface, carrying goods to and from the bustling docks. The docks themselves were a hive of activity, with workers moving crates and barrels with practised efficiency, their shouts and calls just faint echoes from where he stood.

It was… beautiful.

And for the first time in a while, he was reminded of the scope of his situation. That this entire life was the most precious thing anyone could ever be offered - a second chance. Deep within him, he felt a spark of that old ambition flicker to life, the desire to see everything that this world had to offer him.

***

Unfortunately for Zhujiao, dreams were free but reality was not.

For all that his desire to make the most of his second chance was rekindled, he was still facing the same issues that he had been when he woke up this morning.

He folded the small bundle of dried fish back into his bag, pushing the remnants of his meal aside as he stood. The sun was still high, casting sharp shadows across the rooftops, but he had already made up his mind. He couldn’t afford to waste time daydreaming about what could be.

He adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder and began to make his way across the rooftops, carefully navigating the uneven tiles. His best bet at securing a stable income right now was to leverage the skills and abilities he had – which were, admittedly, meagre.

Technically speaking, he should still be registered as an official healer’s apprentice, even though Lao Yi was gone. Sure, he had a grand total of a few months of instruction, not to mention that Lao Yi’s teaching methods could be described as ‘alternative’ at best, but…

Well, laying it out like that made it seem worse than it actually was.

Still, the plague might have changed the situation enough for someone to consider him. Healers were in high demand, and one of them may be desperate enough to take on an inexperienced apprentice.

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As he reached the edge of the rooftop, Zhujiao paused, scanning the street below. He spotted a narrow alley that led towards one of the main roads. Without hesitation, he dropped down, landing with a soft thud before straightening and brushing off his tunic.

As he walked, he took a moment to relish how cool it was that he could just… drop off a roof without caring. Sure, it was a single story, and his shins were aching, but it was so worth it for the cool factor.

He ignored how it was probably a stupid thing to try without knowing he could take it.

Zhujiao slipped into the flow of the crowd as he emerged onto the main road, his small frame easily blending in with the throng of people. The scent of spices and cooked meats wafted through the air, and his stomach growled in response, but he pushed the hunger aside.

The dried fish he’d eaten might not have made for a satisfying meal, but it would do for now.

He turned his idea over in his head as he moved through the city, weaving between the crowds. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that it wasn’t much of a plan, but really, it was the best he had. If he could present himself at the magistrate’s office—the place where he had once secured his apprenticeship with Lao Yi—maybe, just maybe, he could find another healer willing to take him in.

Failing that… Well, he would burn that bridge when he got to it.

Zhujiao turned a corner, the magistrate’s office looming ahead, its stone walls and imposing structure a reminder of the city’s authority. The closer he got, the more crowded the streets became. People were lined up outside the office, some arguing with guards, others clutching paperwork and looking harried.

He slowed, observing the milling crowds. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one worried about his situation. This was going to be more complicated than he thought.

Still, standing around wasn’t going to help him, so with a defeated sigh, Zhujiao started pushing through the crowd towards the entrance. By the looks of things, most of the people were just here to complain, so while the line was long, it wasn’t impossibly so. Zhujiao took his place at the back, watching as people ahead were either waved through or turned away.

The city guards standing nearby were scrutinising each person carefully, their expressions stern. Zhujiao shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to calm his nerves. Around him, the crowd stirred just as restlessly.

Fortunately for all involved, the line was moving at a decent pace, and it wasn’t too long before he made it to the front, where a harried worker stood behind a wooden desk. The man looked to be in his late thirties, with dark circles under his eyes and an air of exhaustion about him. His tunic was rumpled, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his brow, evidence of the long hours he’d likely been working. He was scanning a list of names, barely looking up as he addressed the line.

“Name and reason for the visit?” the worker asked in a tone that suggested he had asked the question a hundred times already that day.

“Zhujiao,” he replied, trying to sound confident. “I’m—”

The man cut him off, finally glancing up with a weary sigh. His eyes narrowed as they landed on Zhujiao, and he raised an eyebrow. “You’re just a kid,” he muttered, clearly unimpressed. “Shouldn’t you be at home or something? We’ve got more important things to deal with than lost children.”

Zhujiao narrowed his eyes and drew himself up to his full – somewhat unimpressive – height. If he got turned away at the door because some random guy thought he was playing a game…

“My name is Lin Zhujiao,” he said sharply, “I am apprenticed to Lao Yi, the healer. I need to speak with someone about the plague.”

It might be stretching the truth a little, but he technically wasn’t lying. Very technically. Besides, if it got him through the door, he didn’t particularly care what anyone else thought. In fairness, he would presumably be helping with the plague if he got work as an apprentice to another healer, so that counted.

The man shot him a look that conveyed exactly how likely he found Zhujiao’s story, but after a moment he shrugged. “I’m not paid enough to care,” he muttered to himself before waving Zhujiao through. “Go talk to someone inside, but if you’re lying, they’ll make sure you regret it.”

Zhujiao disregarded the warning. It wasn’t like his situation could get any worse than it already was.

***

Zhujiao stepped through the doorway into the magistrate’s office, and the noise of the crowded street outside faded into a dull hum. Inside, the building was just as bustling, though in a more subdued and focused way. The air was thick with the scent of ink and paper, mixed with the faint, sharp smell of sweat from the people who had been waiting too long.

The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with scrolls and ledgers, their spines marked with neat characters denoting various bureaucratic matters. The floor was worn smooth from years of foot traffic, and the low murmur of voices filled the space as people discussed their business with the workers seated behind rows of long wooden desks.

There was another line of people waiting to speak with a worker, but this one was mercifully much shorter than the one outside. Another few minutes later, he was waved forward to a free desk.

Behind said desk sat a middle-aged woman, her hair tied back in a tight bun, glaring at him from behind one of the desks. Her eyes were sharp, her mouth set in a thin line that suggested she didn’t have time for nonsense. She looked just as harried as the man outside had been, her fingers tapping impatiently on the surface of her desk.

“Well? Are you going to stand there all day, or do you actually have business here?” She demanded.

Zhujiao swallowed harshly.

“I’m Lin Zhujiao,” he began, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m an apprentice to Lao Yi, the healer. He’s… not around for a while, and I was hoping to find work with another healer to help out with the plague.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed as she looked him over. “You are a healer’s apprentice, huh?” she said, her tone sceptical. “And you’re here to find work because your master is ‘not around.’“ She emphasised the last words with a hint of disbelief, as if she’d heard a hundred similar stories before.

Zhujiao got the sinking feeling that this wasn’t going to work out for him. He pressed on anyway. If he had nothing to lose, why not?

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve been training with him for a few months, and I know it’s not much, but I want to help. I figured with the plague—”

The woman scoffed. “I know what you were thinking, boy, but even if you were an apprentice,” and her tone highlighted how likely she thought that was, “it still wouldn’t be that simple. You can’t just waltz in here and expect to switch masters on a whim. There are rules for these things, and both parties involved need to be present to make any changes to the apprenticeship arrangement.”

Zhujiao winced. That… actually made a lot of sense, as far as checks and balances went. It was hard to get annoyed at hearing a reason that he actually agreed with. Still…

“But Lao Yi’s going to be gone for weeks,” he tried. “Can’t you make an exception? With the plague going on, surely there’s something that can be done?”

The woman let out a long sigh, clearly exasperated. “I don’t have time for exceptions, and frankly, it’s not my problem if your ‘master’,” Zhujiao felt that the air quotes were unnecessary, “decided to leave you high and dry. Without him here, there’s nothing I can do to officially alter the terms of your apprenticeship. Assuming you’re registered, until he returns or releases you from that contract, you’re stuck.”

The woman turned back to her paperwork, clearly signalling that the conversation was over.

“Next!” she called out, not even sparing him a glance as she addressed the next person in line.

Zhujiao clenched his fists in frustration but turned to leave. Causing a scene here wouldn’t help his situation any, and it’s not like he had a proper argument to make beyond pleading – which, considering the woman’s attitude, wouldn’t help anyway.

He pushed his way back out the front doors, striding past the crowd still waiting. In a funny way, the attempt actually had helped. It showed that he couldn’t rely on other people to help him out. Just like Lao Yi had said, when confronted with a problem, the best thing to do was become powerful enough that it stopped being a problem.

Zhujiao narrowed his eyes in determination and started looking around for a way to return to the rooftops and the privacy they offered.

He was going to take control of the situation in the only way available to him right now.

He was going to form his first droplet of liquid Qi and push through to the Second Stage of the Qi Condensation Realm.