3. Disciple
"The audacity of that bitch! To say I was unfit to be Vice-Sect Master just because I wanted my son to join and maybe take a few disciples as concubines. Can you believe the nerve of that woman!?" Sun Mei'er’s voice echoed through the dimly candle-lit courtyard.
She’d dragged Jin Shu here an hour ago and hadn’t stopped ranting since. Jin Shu, though, was perfectly content to sit there, listening in silence. Whatever she wanted to say, he was willing to hear.
A maid hurried into the courtyard, bowing briefly. “Master, your disciple, Fan Biyu, is requesting an audience.”
"Oh, let her in."
With a quiet bow, the maid departed as swiftly as she had arrived.
Moments later, a young woman stepped through the doorway.
Jin Shu’s gaze caught on her, captivated. He could only think of one word to describe her, “jade.” Her long hair, deep as evergreen boughs, was a dark jade, and her eyes—like polished jade pools—reflected his stunned face. She wore robes of varying shades of green, accented by a purple belt around her waist.
Noticing Jin Shu’s expression, Sun Mei'er grinned. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Exquisitely,” he replied, unabashed in his praise. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Fan. I’m Jin Shu. I hear you’re my mother’s disciple. I hope she’s treated you well.” He stood to give a respectful bow, placing his left palm over his right fist.
Fan Biyu gracefully returned his salute, smiling. “The pleasure is mine. Master is like a second mother to me. So, please, call me Biyu.”
“You should call her Sister Biyu, since she’s older than you, Shu,” his mother cut in, her grin widening. She turned to him, “and stop calling me ‘Mother!’ I’ve told you a thousand times—it’s too distant and makes me sound old!”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Aah! Biyu, you see what I mean? This stubborn boy never listens to his mommy!” Sun Mei'er pouted.
“Yes, Master.” Biyu laughed softly.
“And you too!” Sun Mei’er shot Biyu a mock glare. “You’re just as stubborn as he is!”
Fan Biyu responded with a silent smile, her composure unshaken.
“So, what brings you here, Sis—er… Biyu?” Jin Shu hesitated, his words faltering. He couldn't bring himself to call her “Sister.” The thought of addressing someone who, in his previous life, would have been a decade younger than him felt too awkward.
Fan Biyu stifled a giggle at his stumbling. “Sect Master Chen sent me to call Master back,” she explained lightly.
“Oh? Mother only returned a few weeks ago. Is she needed back at the Immortal Phoenix Sect so soon?”
“There’s been some unsettling activity in the southern region,” Fan Biyu said, her tone turning serious. “The sect elders are holding a meeting, and as Vice-Sect Master, she must attend.”
“Are the demonic cultivators active again?” Jin Shu asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice.
“Yes,” Sun Mei’er answered before Fan Biyu could. “They’ve been making a resurgence lately.”
Jin Shu turned to his mother, his brows furrowing. “Is it dangerous?”
Sun Mei’er didn’t answer directly. Instead, she plastered on an exaggeratedly touched expression, her eyes growing mockingly teary. “Oh, my precious baby is worried about his poor mommy?” she cooed, pulling him into a tight embrace.
This time, Jin Shu was prepared. He turned his head just in time to avoid being smothered against her chest, though her teasing was no less suffocating. He realized she was dodging the question about the danger, but perhaps that was for the best. Deep down, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
For now, he allowed himself to sink into the warmth of her embrace. It felt oddly soothing—like a first. And in a way, it was. For the Jin Shu of Earth, who had grown up an orphan, this was his first time experiencing the love of a mother.
The moment felt blissful until he glanced up and saw Fan Biyu watching him, her warm smile stirring his embarrassment.
His face flushed. Quickly, he wriggled free of Sun Mei’er’s arms, much to her dismay.
“Aww…” she pouted, clearly disappointed.
Jin Shu noticed the faint light of dawn filling the courtyard and seized the opportunity to escape. Feigning a yawn, he gave a respectful nod to both women. “I’ll take my leave now,” he said, his tone polite but brisk, before standing and retreating from the scene.
“Goodbye, my precious son!” Sun Mei'er called out, waving her arm in an exaggerated farewell.
Jin Shu paused, looking back with a bemused expression. “Are you leaving so soon?”
“We're not,” she replied, smirking, “I just miss you every second I’m not with you!”
He shook his head, suppressing a smile as he walked away, her teasing laughter echoing behind him.
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In the quiet courtyard, Sun Mei’er turned to her disciple with a sly grin tugging at her lips. “What did I tell you? Handsome, isn’t he? He takes after me, after all.”
Fan Biyu smiled softly. “He certainly is handsome,” she admitted. “But no.”
Sun Mei’er gasped in mock outrage, placing a hand over her heart as if wounded. “I haven’t even said anything yet!” she exclaimed, though the mischievous sparkle in her eyes betrayed her true intentions.
“I already know what you’re going to ask,” Fan Biyu replied evenly. “You’ve asked me countless times now, and my answer hasn’t changed.”
“Really? Even after seeing him up close?” Sun Mei’er pressed, leaning closer. “You know, if you don’t act soon, some other girl will snatch him up. Then your master won’t be able to guarantee your spot as the main wife.”
“Don’t need it,” Fan Biyu responded bluntly, her tone firm.
Sun Mei’er blinked, momentarily taken aback, but before she could muster a retort, Fan Biyu continued. “It’s late—or rather, early—and I haven’t slept. I’m retiring for the… morning.” With a graceful bow, she turned and walked away, leaving her master to stew over her rejection.
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Back in his room, Jin Shu sat at an opulent wooden desk intricately carved with coiling dragons and crouching tigers. His room was filled with luxurious items, each one a gift from his mother. Some, he knew, had been borrowed from his uncle’s royal treasury.
His uncle was Emperor Sun of the Sun dynasty, making Sun Mei'er a princess—and himself the Emperor’s nephew. At his mother's vehement behest, Jin Shu was conferred the title of Golden Prince, a title that also earned him a position in the royal court at the same rank as the Crown Prince.
Looking around the room, Jin Shu couldn’t help but reflect on how vastly different his two lives were. In his first life, he had been a poor orphan. Now, he was the eldest son of the esteemed Jin family and nephew to an emperor.
Pushing the distracting thoughts aside, he turned his focus to the pistol in his hand, examining it carefully. What was it about this gun—or rather, the bullet he held—that had awakened memories from his past life?
He lifted the bullet, inspecting it closely. The base was stamped with a headstamp that read: [9mm | 2042].
This simple engraving—signifying the caliber and year of manufacturing—marked it as a Martian Metal bullet. It came from his old world, but the date, 2042, indicated it was made a year after his death.
“2042… how's that possible…?” He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that the bullet had come from the future of his old world. The fact that he'd awoken memories of his last life was already shocking enough, now he had to deal with bullets from the future of another world.
“I guess that's not very important. The real question is, where did I find it…?” He recalled a street vendor claiming it was discovered deep within the forest beneath the Black Mountains. Later, he would seek them out and ask exactly where it had been found.
But first, he needed sleep.
The day had been long, exhausting, and above all else, it was bizarre. Two lives worth of memories were bouncing around in his head and it all had to do with a bullet from the future, or who knows, maybe it's a bullet from the past, or present? He had no way of knowing what year Earth was on now. Or if Earth was even real in the first place. He had the memories of it, but who's to say. Maybe he's just gone insane.
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Dawn had passed and it was late evening before Jin Shu woke up. He promised himself that he'd never let himself be fooled into using all his Qi by his father again. Experiencing the headache from overdrawing his Qi was one of the worst things he'd ever felt.
Jin Shu walked the bustling streets of Black Mountain City, his eyes scanning the vendors in search of the one who had sold him the bullet.
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The streets were alive with activity. Guardsmen patrolled in pairs, their armor gleaming faintly in the fading light. Vendors called out to passersby, advertising an array of goods—everything from sizzling street food to essential household items. Wives hurried through the market, gathering ingredients for their evening meals, their voices mingling with the din of bartering. This was but one of the many lively streets that wove through the city, each as vibrant as the last.
The crisp evening air carried a hint of pine, a reminder of the nearby Black Mountains that loomed over the city. Jin Shu weaved through the throng, trying to remain inconspicuous. Though he received respectful bows and nods from those who recognized him, he preferred to avoid drawing attention. Formalities would only slow him down, and his mind was preoccupied with the bullet. What could it mean?
Still, Jin Shu couldn’t ignore those in need. When an elderly apple vendor’s cart was overturned by a playful mutt, he paused to help her gather the scattered fruit, offering her a kind word and a reassuring smile. A few steps later, he came across a young newlywed who had tripped, spilling the ingredients she’d carefully chosen for her husband’s first meal. He bent down without hesitation, helping her pick up the vegetables while murmuring a quick blessing for her marriage.
Though his thoughts were elsewhere, his actions spoke volumes of his character—a man who, even with pressing matters on his mind, could not overlook the struggles of others.
After some time, Jin Shu spotted the vendor, a skinny, old man hunched over a stall with an assortment of peculiar trinkets haphazardly strewn about. The vendor seemed preoccupied with polishing an old pendant, humming to himself, oblivious to the world around him.
Jin Shu cleared his throat as he approached. “Good evening, sir.”
The vendor looked up, eyes brightening with recognition. “Ah! The young master returns,” he said, bowing with a toothy grin. “Did you come for another of my treasures?”
“Not today,” Jin Shu replied, holding up the bullet. “I came to ask about this. You said it was found in the forest beneath the Black Mountains. Can you be more specific?”
The vendor squinted, examining the bullet with a puzzled look before nodding slowly. “Yes, yes… I remember now. An odd little thing, isn’t it? A hunter brought it to me, said he found it near the base of the Black Mountains. Said it was wedged in some rock, nearly broke his knife prying it out.”
Jin Shu’s brow furrowed. “Can you show me exactly where?”
The vendor scratched his chin, looking around thoughtfully before ducking beneath his stall. He stood back up with a tattered map, unrolling it on the counter with deliberate care. The parchment was covered in ink marks, some old and faded, others fresher, marking trails and landmarks Jin Shu recognized.
The vendor’s gnarled finger traced a path along the Black Mountains, stopping at a small, nearly indistinguishable spot. “Here,” he said, tapping the map. “The base of a cliff, hidden among the trees and boulders. No one goes there—bad luck, they say. But if you really want to see for yourself, I can mark the way.”
Jin Shu watched as the vendor outlined the route, noting landmarks he could use as guides. “Thank you,” he said, pocketing the map carefully. “You’ve been most helpful.”
The vendor’s grin returned, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “Anything for the Golden Prince! Just, uh… be careful. Strange things are known to happen around those mountains.”
Jin Shu offered a brief nod of acknowledgment. “I’ll be careful.”
As he left the stall, Jin Shu felt the weight of the bullet in his pocket—a reminder of both his past life and the enigma it represented. He had a destination now, and perhaps, a clue to unraveling the mysteries of his awoken memories.
With the vendor’s map guiding him, he knew his journey was only beginning.
4. Tiger
Jin Shu navigated a dense forest path, carefully picking his way through prickly brambles and thick underbrush. His eyes lingered on the map he’d received from the old vendor, where a dragon coiled around the mountain ranges like a mythical guardian.
According to legend in Black Mountain City, a dragon had scorched the peaks with its fiery breath thousands of years ago—giving it its black color, and some even whispered that it still slumbered beneath the Black Mountains.
A rustling sound above pulled his attention. A horned squirrel scurried through the branches, and Jin Shu smirked at the sight. It reminded him of Earth’s squirrels—one of his favorite animals back then. Some things, it seemed, didn’t change.
He’d been walking for hours and, noticing his hunger, searched the foliage. Wild strawberries grew in clusters nearby, their small red bodies glistening in the sunlight. He hated strawberries in his old life, but in this one, he couldn’t get enough of them. He was unsure how his memories would affect his hatred for the berries. Only one way to find out.
As he reached for a handful, a rapid chattering broke out from above. The squirrel from earlier, now with a red-stained mouth gnawing on a half-eaten strawberry, was watching, clutching the berry as though it were precious. Jin Shu ignored it and bit into a strawberry, savoring the unexpected sweetness—a mix of roses and pineapple.
“Mm, they're good, though not actually strawberries.”
The squirrel watched, bristling in fury, then pelted him with a barrage of nuts. Bop! A nut smacked his head.
Jin Shu laughed until one nut landed square in his mouth. He spluttered, nearly choking, he spit it out into his hand and tossed it back with unexpected speed, hitting it square on and sending the squirrel flying.
Bam! It smashed into the trunk of the tree, slowly sliding down.
If the little creature survived, he ignored it, finishing his snack before resuming his journey.
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The same chattering creature returned later, sporting a large welt on its forehead—a persistent menace. No matter how far Jin Shu walked, every few minutes, a nut would strike him squarely on the head. He tried to ignore it, hoping the creature would eventually tire itself out.
“It was just a few strawberries,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Bonk!
Another nut smacked the back of his head. His patience wearing thin, Jin Shu reached into the hidden pocket of his hanfu sleeve, fingers brushing against the cold metal of his pistol and its solitary bullet. For a fleeting moment, he seriously considered using it on the annoying little pest.
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A sudden, loud crack froze him. A massive tiger emerged from the underbrush—a towering beast of muscle and striped fur with white wings tucked at its sides.
Jin Shu pressed himself against the tree trunk, his heart hammering. The Winged Tiger. This beast wasn’t just any predator; it rivaled cultivators at the higher Qi stages, far beyond Jin Shu’s meager abilities.
Slowly, he drew the pistol and bullet from his pocket, the single round feeling heavy in his hand. He’d never planned to use it, but now he was grateful he had crafted a gun to match it. With a quiet, practiced motion, he pulled the slide back and placed the bullet directly into the chamber. Not a recommended way of loading a pistol, but he scarcely had a better option now.
A rustling sound came from high above, breaking the tense silence.
He looked up, finding the squirrel watching him from the branches, arm pulled back, poised with a large nut, however not aimed at him, instead aimed at the Winged Tiger. Jin Shu’s heart raced, shaking his head and clasping hands together, silently begging it for mercy.
But the squirrel only cocked its head, as if amused. With a defiant squeak, it lobbed the nut toward the tiger.
Jin Shu’s heart dropped. The nut arced through the air, striking the tiger’s eye with a soft bop.
The tiger whipped its head around, gaze blazing as it caught Jin Shu’s scent.
Desperation gripped him as he cursed the little demon of a squirrel. If I survive this, I'm going to find you, you little shit, and when I do, I'm going to enjoy my first taste of roasted squirrel.
The pistol was his last chance. Raising it, he aimed at the tiger’s left eye, praying that the single bullet would be enough.
The trigger pressed—click, hammer struck—bang!
The bullet tore from the barrel with maddening glee. After years of waiting, it could finally fulfill its purpose: Kill! Transform! Repair!
Squelch.
The bullet found purchase in the beast's eye. It should have pierced through to the brain, but this beast was stronger than anything in his original world, its body fortified by the pulsing energy of Qi.
The bullet struggled, its purpose slipping away as it fought against the thick defenses. Inertia spent, its mission incomplete, it finally came to rest—lamenting its failure.
But all was not lost. The bullet held a final gift—transformation.
The tiger staggered, blood mixed with alien metal welling from its eye. But it was still alive—enraged and vengeful.
Roar!
The beast’s howl of agony reverberated through the forest, the vibration rattling Jin Shu to his core.
No time to think. He turned and sprinted, branches and rocks barring his escape. They tore at his skin and tripped his feet, muscles screaming for rest. But he wouldn't—no, couldn't—stop.
He hadn’t anticipated a creature like this—a beast armed not only with wings but with the wrath of something truly wild.
He could feel its breath on his back, hot and rancid, and hear the scraping of its claws tearing into the forest floor.
Only two things kept him alive. The tiger couldn’t use its wings in the cramped forest, and its injured eye—alien alloy spreading in webs through the creature’s flesh—slowed it down with each step.
Jin Shu’s mind raced. A boulder—there! He spotted it towering ahead, easily twice the tiger’s size. Desperation tightened his breath as a rough plan took form. He whispered a hurried prayer to any higher power that may govern this world.
Keeping the boulder on his left—the tiger’s injured side—he leapt at the last moment, rolling behind it just as—
Crash!
The impact sent spiderweb cracks through the stone.
Run. His mind screamed it, but his body balked, every muscle straining for rest. He staggered up, heart pounding in his ears as he fought to keep moving. The tiger’s pace was faltering, but its rage was undiminished.
There—salvation, a dark gap split the mountain wall. Ten seconds. He needed just ten seconds.
One.
He spotted the crack, a shadowy tear in the rock.
Two.
Scrambling to his feet, he forced his aching legs to carry him forward.
Three. Four. Five.
He broke through the underbrush, hissing as an errant branch sliced a deep gash in his cheek.
Six.
The tiger snapped from its daze, the remaining eye blazing with fury as it locked onto him.
Seven.
Halfway there—and the beast was closing fast.
Eight.
Freed from the forest, the tiger spread its wings. A single powerful flap doubled its speed, propelling it forward.
Nine.
Slash! “Ah!” Claws raked across Jin Shu’s back, blood spilling in hot streaks as pain lanced through him.
Ten!
Propelled by the tiger’s strike, he careened forward and rolled into the crack, collapsing in a crumpled, bloody heap. The tiger roared, clawing frantically at the rocks, its paws scraping against the stone as it strained to reach him. When that failed, it thrust a claw through the narrow opening, desperate to catch him.
Jin Shu’s vision blurred, his strength fading fast from blood loss. His body trembled as the tiger’s claws raked over his leg, snagging on his pant leg.
With a vicious tug, he was yanked back toward the beast’s gaping maw. He could barely summon the will to struggle, to fight, as the tiger’s jaws clamped onto his shoulder.
How did it come to this? The thought slipped away as darkness took him.