Hui circulated his qi, silently consolidating his realm. At the same time, he probed his dantians and passageways for irregularities. Nothing stood out. The two systems were identical in all ways, except that one circulated qi, and one circulated death qi.

Rather than any irregularities, his systems were almost strangely regular. No hint of the illusory-ghost-qi-curse-devouring ducks was anywhere to be seen, and the blood qi duck had similarly vanished. No matter how deeply Hui probed his system, he came up with nothing. No oddities, nothing out of the regular.

Except for the fact that I have two dantians! he despaired. That’s not in the manual. Is it a sign of a qi deviation? Am I going to split into two people, like the triplets from the Mysterious Heavenly Forest sect? Is this the precursor to that?

Oh, no, I can’t, I can’t! If I become two Huis, that’s twice the chance of dying!

Unless… I survive if either Hui survives…

No, no, don’t think like that! See, if I split, I’ll start thinking like that, but then both Huis will try to use the other as a sacrificial pawn, and they’ll both end up dying! That’s no good at all!

Hmm… actually… I wonder if our sect has any cloning techniques.

Hui shook his head and opened his eyes. My thoughts are too chaotic. Meditating like this will only lead to failure.

“You’ve awakened?” a familiar voice asked quietly.

Hui startled. He jumped up and swirled, searching the room. “M—master?”

Weiheng Wu sat atop the ruined wardrobe, idly piecing together the pieces of a shredded robe. A needle flashed in his hands, end trailing a thread only visible when the moonlight caught it. The half of the robe that laid in his lap looked as though nothing had ever touched it, perfectly matched back together, the sky-blue fabric seamless. At Hui’s call, he nodded, set the robe aside, and glided to the windowsill, where he perched, staring out into the moonlit night.

“You did well,” Weiheng Wu said at last.

“Thank you, master. This small cultivator does not deserve such high praise,” Hui said. He leaped up and bowed.

Cold sweat dripped down his back. If I’d taken Bai Xue up on her offer… ahhh, no, Master would’ve seen me—eek! I value my life!

Knowing Bai Xue’s personality… oh gods, if she invited him—I would die. This small cultivator’s face isn’t as thick as hers!

Yes, yes, this time, Hui, you chose the right route! There’s virtue in purity! Think about finding daoist partners after you cultivate to a high enough realm that your master can’t peek in on you, and then—then there’s no problem at all.

“I watched you from the jade bird. If anything happened beyond your ability to handle, I would have stepped in, but I had faith that you could resolve this on your own. I cannot shield you from all your trials and tribulations, and even if I could, I would not. A disciple must be raised, not kept in a bubble.”

“I understand, Master.” Hui stood upright, dropping his bow. He moved to the windowsill as well.

Weiheng Wu glanced at him, then turned back to the night.

Hui glanced at his master. He swallowed, looked away, then glanced back at him. He’s not saying anything. Isn’t that the same as inviting me to speak up? “Master… while I was out here, I heard about something called the Midnight Massacre.”

Weiheng Wu inclined his head.

“Is that… Are, are there any connections—or rather, does it have anything to do with me?”

“Does everything have to do with you?” Weiheng Wu rebutted Hui.

Hui blinked. Right! I’ve never told Master I reincarnated, or that I lived in a different world. Why would he think anything of it? “Master, I… actually, I—”

Weiheng Wu raised a hand, silencing Hui. “There are many events in this world. Many terrible sins occur every night. Not all of them have a deeper meaning.”

At the same time, his voice sounded in Hui’s head. “The walls have ears.”

Hui blinked. “I—I understand, Master.”

Internally, his mind raced. Isn’t not answering the same as a yes? Then what’s the connection? What meaning could there possibly be to my being reincarnated on the same night as a massacre? Is it mere happenstance? Perhaps it’s only the massacre that Master means, and there’s some inconvenient truth to do with that. There’s no way for him to know about my reincarnation, after all, so…

Argh, it’s too complicated! I need a straight answer!

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“I was invited to a banquet. I intend to attend one,” Weiheng Wu declared suddenly. He raised his hand, and the robe returned to it, its pieces drifting lazily after to cluster around him. The needle settled between his fingers, and he went back to sewing it together. “Meditate here until Matriarch Bai Bing emerges from seclusion with their child. The clan will surely hold a banquet then, and be honored to have me. I will provide you qi, so you will lack nothing.”

“This small disciple is grateful,” Hui said, bowing again.

Weiheng Wu inclined his head slightly. “Mmm. It’s best not to return too early.”

Ah! Is Master aware that he broke me out of forced seclusion? Hui wondered. I suppose even Master can’t openly defy the Sect Master himself.

A thought struck him, and he sat up. “That’s right. Master, could you examine my dantian?”

Weiheng Wu looked at him, then reached out a hand. Dutifully, Hui walked over and slotted his shoulder into his master’s palm.

A familiar tingle met his skin, then a buzz of pain, an almost acid heat sinking into him. Hui jolted away. “Master—”

“Relax. I’m not a member of the Bai clan. It’s not easy for me to investigate a cultivator’s body beyond the second realm. You have to lower your natural defenses and let me in, or my qi will hurt you.”

Oh, right. Come to think of it, I’ve received qi from Bai Xue and passed her qi, but no one else has tried recently. Furnaces often have the ability to transfer and circulate others’ qi without side effects. Hui closed his eyes and lowered his internal barriers, allowing Weiheng Wu to investigate his dantian.

Unlike Bai Xue’s, Weiheng Wu’s qi was warm. Hui sent his consciousness internally and hovered awkwardly, curious as to what Weiheng Wu would do.

Golden energy floated inside of him. Nebulous, it searched around, extending in all directions. Strands of golden energy touched his original dantian and explored his passageways. After a moment, the energy turned toward Hui’s hovering consciousness, questioning.

Hui twisted his energy around and pointed at his second dantian, hovering behind his original.

Weiheng Wu’s qi took the shape of a songbird and fluttered over. He hovered over the death-qi-based dantian, curious. A strand extended from the songbird’s chest and reached out to the dantian.

“Master!” Hui shouted, only to find himself voiceless. The death qi will devour him, I can’t—

Death qi lunged at the golden qi. Where the two met, they both dissipated. Rather than the death qi infecting the golden qi and blackening it, the two simply vanished. The golden qi destroyed it without taking any infectious damage itself.

Hui stared. Eh… huh?

The songbird fluttered closer, peering around the routes, then retreated. Hui retreated from himself as well and returned his consciousness to the real world. “Master?”

Weiheng Wu looked as impassive as ever, and yet, there was a smug air to his detatched expression. “Life qi. Instead of losing to death qi, it negates it.”

Hui nodded. I should look into life qi. Not only does it sound useful for manipulating death qi, but it might also help me regenerate if I ever took on a truly deadly blow. Life qi is surely linked to healing and regeneration, right? If so, if I study it, then I have no need to fear getting stabbed after I play dead, nor worry about suffering mortal blows before I fall over!

“So, Master?” Hui prompted, curious what he thought.

Weiheng Wu nodded sagely. “You’ve cultivated an interesting system. I’ve never heard of cultivating two dantians before. There are systems that involve starting with two, as in the Bai clan’s main bloodline, but cultivating a second from scratch? Novel. I applaud your resourcefulness, and I look forward to where your path will take you.”

“Er, no, Master, I er… I didn’t mean to…” Hui said hesitantly. He started to draw out his manual.

At the sight of the manual, Weiheng Wu scowled. He snapped his fingers, and lightning glittered between them. Hui quickly tucked the manual back away before Weiheng Wu could reach over.

His master clicked his tongue. He sat back, banishing the lightning, and shook his head. “You have no need for manuals. They only limit one’s imagination, and therefore, their potential.”

Master! You do know that almost all cultivators follow a manual, right? Manuals are core to cultivation! You’re the only one who’s so unparalleled as to be able to cultivate freely without a manual. Should I compare you to the great ancestors who wrote the manuals? I admire your strength, but Master, I’m a mere morta… a mere ordinary cultivator! Hui despaired silently.

As if sensing his thoughts, Weiheng Wu snorted. “Do you truly know what you’ve cultivated?”

Hui shook his head. Not even a little. “Master, could you enlighten me?”

Weiheng Wu pressed a finger against Hui’s chest. “Your original qi system is here. Your death qi system is…” His finger became immaterial and pressed lightly into Hui’s chest. “Here.”

“Eh…?” Hui asked. I already know they’re stacked atop each other. That’s not new information.

Weiheng Wu scoffed. “I have given you the answer, if you can comprehend it.”

Hui bowed hurriedly. “Thank you for your guidance, Master!” I’ll figure it out later. Master wouldn’t have given me a puzzle I couldn’t… er, a puzzle he couldn’t figure out.

I’m not a genius at your level, Master!

Oh well. I have lots of friends. If I can’t figure it out—ask someone!

Weiheng Wu turned back to his stitching. His hands blurred over the robe. It reformed before Hui’s eyes, each piece slotted perfectly back into place.

“Er, Master,” Hui tried again.

Weiheng Wu grunted.

“Is there… does there seem to be any problem with my cultivation?” Hui probed. Surely Master would tell me if I was about to deviate or if my path obviously ended in failure?

“It is impossible to know how far one’s path extends before they reach the end of their karma,” Weiheng Wu said.

In other words, even Master isn’t enough of a genius to know if this is a viable path? Hui pondered.

“However, I did not sense any immediate hazards in your dantians. They both seem stable, internally balanced and balanced with each other. This path you forge extends ahead yet.”

Hui nodded thankfully. “Small disciple appreciates it, Master. Er… could I trouble you for one more thing?”

Weiheng Wu quirked an eyebrow.

Hui lifted Zhubi off his neck and held the snake out to his master. “Zhubi ate a lotus pill. Lotus pills, they… can turn those who eat them into zom… into plant-ghouls. Not always, but… could you check him? Make sure he’s safe?”

Resting a hand on Zhubi’s head, Weiheng Wu closed his eyes. He opened them and shook his head.

Hui caught his breath. “He’s—?”

“Your Zhubi is fine. Rather… he may have obtained a great advantage from his actions,” Weiheng Wu said cryptically.

Hui bowed. “Thank you, Master!” Thank goodness. Don’t be so rash, you silly creature! He petted Zhubi as he settled the snake back around his shoulders. Zhubi closed his eyes and snuggled close to the warmth.

Weiheng Wu nodded once and lowered his head over his work.

Sensing that his Master had finished the conversation, Hui settled into a lotus pose once more and closed his eyes, returning to his cultivation.