Plum POV
Year 11
It wasn't fair. He was the smarter one, the strategist, the one who deserved the power more than anyone. Me? I was just a lucky orphan, blessed with a slightly better talent and a decent manual that I only have because of him!
I was Level Four Body Tempering, I could definitely go further with this while he remained stuck at the same level he'd reached a year ago.
He'd have to stay there for another 9 years due to the stupid injury that caused all of this!
We shouldn’t have taken the energy from those spirit stones, but it was the best option of way too many bad ones!
But I wouldn't let this situation stop us.
We were a team, brothers in arms, and I'd carry us both if I had to.
"Alright, Plum," Spiritward's voice cut through my thoughts, his purple eyes gleaming with mischief, "time to relieve another fat cat of his ill-gotten gains."
I grinned, my heart thrumming with excitement. I ignored the ache from the last spot I painted over.
We were targeting a merchant notorious for diluting his grain with colored sand, tricking people into the thought that the sand was spirit salt and then selling it to desperate families who needed to advance their children’s cultivation at exorbitant prices.
Sand- masquerading as spirit salt!
How could someone sell something so wretched!
A scumbag who definitely deserved to be parted from his coin pouch.
People like that who market trash as treasure and then silence the ill with the same thing they sold them.
Horrible!
Wretched!
A person like that was rotten well beyond the bone!
I even wish we could relieve him of much more, but the heat that it would cause with the local guards would be too much.
"Let's do it," I shouted, "Let's take everything from the bastard!"
Spiritward let out a rare chuckle and I stood up.
The marketplace bustled with activity due to this being market day. The time and date provided a perfect cover for our operation.
As the merchant haggled with an elderly woman, his back was finally turned to his cart with the purposely tainted spirit rice.
A swift movement, a practiced sleight of hand, and the bulging pouch was mine, replaced with a weighted decoy.
I pocketed the gold in the pouch for later and grabbed the key.
I gave the signal for Spiritward to cause a distraction by causing a secondary distraction.
Shouts of alarm filled the street as I unlatched a horse from the merchants wagon and projected my Qi at it intimidatingly. The horse ran off and Spiritward did something that caused an even bigger commotion on the other side of the market.
This gave me the opportunity to sneak near the strongbox at the back of the cart. I opened it, stacks of silver and gold went all the way to the top.
I grabbed a sack, emptied out the sand-laden rice and wheat.
I shoved the silver and gold into the sack and blitzed forwards to the edge of the crowd where spiritward was waiting.
There were spirit stones in there too, but that gave me an idea. I grabbed one of the spirit stones and tossed it at the merchant's face.
I dumped the other spirit stones to the opposite side of my stride and bolted towards where we were going to meet.
I stopped running and switched to a longer shirt to hide the markings I’ve been making to hide the physical problems I’ve been having from Spiritward.
Once I was sure no one was looking I swapped back into a different shirt with a nicer color- one a clan member would wear and started walking slowly.
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Spiritward gave me the hand slap thing that was a declaration of a job well done.
He called it a high-five.
I still think his fist-bump is better, but he said not to mess with the classics, whatever that meant.
We melted back into the crowd with the thrill of success warming me.
Despite the fake biting cold caused by my left arm elbow acupoint.
This wasn't just about survival anymore.
It couldn’t be.
At least not for me.
"One step closer," I murmured, clutching the sack to my chest.
One step closer to a better life, one step closer to finding a pair of high-grade meridian repair pills for Spiritward and I.
They existed, I knew they did, somewhere in this vast city.
I wouldn't rest until I found them.
I’d find a way to fix us both.
“Both of us…”
"What'd you say? Plum?"
"Nothing." I responded.
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Back in our dilapidated shack which we upgraded from a dilapidated hut a few months ago, I sat cross-legged on the floor, attempting to push my cultivation further.
The Chi flowed through my meridians, a familiar burn that I usually welcomed.
But today, the burn intensified, morphing into a searing pain that made me gasp.
A dark bruise bloomed along my arm, a stark reminder of the toll my accelerated cultivation was taking on my body.
I gritted my teeth, willing the pain away, but it only intensified.
Spiritward glanced at me, his gaze sharp and observant. "Everything alright, Plum?"
"Just a… a little sore from training," I stammered, hastily covering the bruise with my sleeve.
He narrowed his eyes, suspicion flickering across his face. "You sure?"
"Yeah," I forced a smile, my voice strained. "Just celebrating our latest victory, you know?"
He grunted, seemingly satisfied with my explanation.
But I knew he wasn't fooled entirely.
He was too perceptive, too attuned to the subtle shifts in my demeanor.
Later that night, as Spiritward slept, I traced the outline of the bruise with a finger dipped in red paint, creating a swirling pattern that masked the evidence of my pain.’
This was the third one.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
It was a secret I had to keep, a burden I had to bear alone.
For Spiritward, for my sworn brother, for our future.
Year 12
8 More years. I knew I could get the Repair Pill sooner though.
I started doing side-heists while Spiritward slept.
I needed to have enough.
I needed to help us both.
I painted my radial shoulder meridian with a red flame design to cover the bruise.
"Plum, what were you doing out so early?"
Year 13.
I had reached the fifth level.
But beneath the paint I knew my whole body was a bruise.
I put more orange paint on top of the red.
Spiritward would get suspicious if I just stopped ‘celebrating’ after every successful heist.
The permanent red paint was also starting to change color.
I knew my body was breaking.
I’d fix it!
I had to!
Year 14.
The alchemist's shop, tucked away like a secret in the labyrinthine alleys of the fourth ring, exuded an aura of dusty mystique.
The scent of exotic herbs and pungent concoctions hung heavy in the air, promising both healing and danger.
He was a wizened old man, his beard as white as snow and his eyes like pools of ancient wisdom.
He listened to my desperate plea with an unwavering gaze, his expression a mask of apathy.
"Meridian Repair Pills," he said, in his tinny voice, "are a rare treasure indeed. Their creation requires meticulous skill and ingredients found only in the most perilous corners of the world."
Hope surged within me, a fragile flame flickering in the darkness. "You have them?"
A nod. "I do. But such miracles come at a steep price."
My hand instinctively reached for the pouch hidden beneath my robes, the weight of our stolen gold a meager offering. " I have gold," I said, my voice laced with a sliver of hope.
The alchemist's lips curled into a mocking smile. "Gold? Child, in this shop, gold is mere dust beneath our feet. Spirit stones are the currency of power, and a Meridian Repair Pill demands a king's ransom in such currency."
My heart sank like a stone, the weight of his words crushing the fragile hope I'd dared to entertain.
"But-" I stuttered, desperation creeping into my voice.
He chuckled, a dry, humorless sound that echoed through the dusty shop. "Unless you possess a talent that rivals the heavens, or an artifact plucked from the hands of an Immortal, gold will not suffice. Now, Out."
The dismissal was clear.
I was just another slum rat, an insignificant speck in the eyes of this powerful alchemist.
Shame burned in my throat as I turned to leave, the dream of healing Spiritward fading into a distant fantasy.
As I stepped back into the bustling marketplace, the weight of reality pressed down upon me.
In this world, power was everything, and we were nothing.
No one was willing to exchange gold for spirit stones.
But despair wouldn't mend Spiritward's broken meridians.
It wouldn't pave our path out of the slums.
So, I swallowed my pride and steeled my resolve. We would find another way. We had to.
Year 15.
This heist would be my last.
I would take everything from the alchemist shop.
I would certainly die trying, but this talisman of position swapping will deliver the spatial storage ring and the letter.
I hope Spiritward would forgive me.
I'd miss new years.
Year 16, Day one.
Spiritward POV
I awoke again.
Plum had been acting weird lately.
I mean weirder than usual.
The year after my meridians were damaged, Plum had started painting himself.
The reason he told me was a lie, I knew, but I didn't want to pry into his business.
He seemed fine.
I hadn't seen him come back for new-years celebration yesterday.
I frowned and went to his room, feeling like something was wrong.
On his untouched bed, was a letter and a small innocuous black ring.
I knew it was a spatial storage ring.
"Plum, what have you done…" I whispered.
I ignored the ring obviously full of treasure and opened the letter.
-Spiritward,
I don't know how to start this, or even if I have the right to ask for your forgiveness. I did something stupid, something reckless. I stole from the alchemist.
He did nothing wrong, except refuse my meager offering of gold. He didn't deserve to be robbed, not like those greedy merchants and cruel landlords we usually target. But I was desperate, blinded by my desire to help you, to find a way to mend your broken meridians.
I failed. The price of the pills was beyond anything I could imagine. And now, I'm paying the price for my actions.
“NO!”
My body is failing, Spiritward. The years of pushing my cultivation beyond its limits, the strain of hiding my injuries, it's all catching up to me. I don't have much time left.
This is goodbye, brother. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. I'm sorry I couldn't be the friend you deserve.
“NO! NO! NO!”
Please, Spiritward, stop climbing. This city, this world, it's too cruel, too unforgiving. Find a quiet town, a peaceful village, and live a simple life. Don't let my sacrifice be in vain.
“THIS CAN’t BE HAPPENING!”
You are my brother, my friend, the only family I've ever known. Live a long life, for both of us.
Plum.
P.S.
The ring contains everything I've managed to acquire over the years. Use it wisely.
“WE WERE GOING TO DO IT TOGETHER! YOU WRECKLESS MORON!”
P.P.S
Don't co-
-
The letter ends abruptly, a dark stain of blood marring the corner of the page.
My knees fell to the ground.
They fell to the ground like the countless tears that left my eyes unending.
That night. I followed his advice as tears fell down my face.
The tears fell onto the ground like a vase.
Shattered like my aspirations.
It wasn’t worth it anymore.
I'd find a nice village.
Or a town.
I don't care anymore.
But I'll live for Plum.