Chapter 35

Pao knocked nervously on the door to the house he had been born in. It was opened a moment later, and his mother took one look at him, eyeing him up and down, before embracing him.

“Welcome home, son,” she said, and she brought him inside. “Are you hungry?”

“I’d take some tea,” he said, not wanting to offend her by refusing hospitality entirely, but the food that the Shens served him was laden with Qi. The food that his family subsisted on was not. It wouldn’t hurt his cultivation, exactly, but it would be fuel to his body and nothing more.

“You never did like my tea,” she commented. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you. With the loom you bought for us with that magic stone of yours, we’ve had extra income, so we purchased some of the good tea from one of the wandering merchants who came through this spring.”

“Is that so?” Pao asked. “Now I’m actually looking forward to it. Where’s father?”

“At the loom. Lao! Your only son, the cultivator, has come to visit! Get out here!” his mother shouted.

A hollered reply came, but it was a wordless assent rather than a real answer. Pao smiled as his mother led him into the dining area and bade him to sit while she heated the water for the tea. He looked around at the little house he’d lived in until age nine, when he’d gone to live with the Shens after binding his earth spirit.

He remembered it being so much bigger.

And his parents…

He loved them dearly, but they were mortal. If he continued to cultivate at the rate he’d been managing, he’d live for two or three centuries. They had perhaps thirty or forty years left in their life.

It was both a very long time away, and yet just around the corner. He shook his head and pushed the morbid thoughts away.

“How was your journey?” his mother asked. “I hope everything went well.”

“We made good time and fulfilled our goal of bringing Hoten back,” Pao answered. “I’d like to wait to tell you and father at the same time before saying more than that.”

“Of course,” she agreed. “We’re so very proud of you, you know. The first cultivator in our family in the memory of this village. I was so angry at Tren Shen when he tricked all of those poor children into destroying their favorite toys. I thought it was just one of those lessons that hidden masters teach mortals like us about how weak and helpless we are. But he carried through on his part after all. I’m ashamed that I ever had a bad thought about the man.”

Pao smiled, remembering the sacrifice that he’d made to earn the spirit stone he’d bonded six years ago. It was a kite that his grandfather had helped him build in the spring before he’d passed away. It had been broken anyway, Pao had crashed it when he was eight and it had never flown right again. But he had kept it anyway to remember his grandfather, until Tren Shen had explained the sort of sacrifice he was looking for. Pao had remembered the Kite and presented it, thinking that he’d be turned away, only for his sacrifice to be accepted once he’d shared the kite’s origin.

“Broken toys and ragged dolls for a spirit stone,” Pao muttered. “Only the Shens would take such a deal seriously and think that they came out ahead in the deal. But then, they did get three loyal followers to their family in exchange as well, so I can’t fault their logic.”

“What did you say?” his mother asked.

“Nothing,” he said.

His father entered the room a moment later, rubbing his hands together. Pao stood and they embraced. They shared the same height, but the son was far more muscular, and he lifted his father by leaning back with his arms still embracing him.

“I missed you both,” Pao said.

“What has gotten into you?” his father asked, patting his back. Pao set him down and they separated.

“Hoten’s dilemma has me sentimental,” Pao admitted. “I’m ashamed that I haven’t been a better son to you. I wish that you’d have had another child so that you wouldn’t be alone.”

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

“Well it wasn’t for lack of trying,” his mother said, causing Pao to blush. “We’re lucky to have what we have, Pao. Don’t ever think that we’re not grateful, or proud of you.”

They sat at the little table where Pao had learned to feed himself and drank their tea. It was terrible, terrible tea, but it made Pao smile. His mother couldn’t make tea to save her life, even with expensive leaves.

“I helped kill a man when I was away,” He said, breaking the news abruptly, like ripping off a bandage. “He was an evil man and we were defending ourselves. I’m not ashamed of what I did, but it haunts me all the same.”

His parents exchanged glances, speaking without words for a moment, before they each took one of his hands.

“Better him than you, Pao,” his father said. “Think of the grief that you would have caused your mother if you hadn’t defended yourself.”

“You’re a gentle soul, my boy,” his mother said. “I believe that if there was another path home where you wouldn’t have had to dirty your hands, you would have taken it. But you walk a dangerous path. Do not ever be ashamed of what you must do to stay alive.”

Pao exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank you,” he said. “I was worried what you would say.”

“Tell us everything,” his father said. “Let us bear whatever part of this burden that we can. Talking is good for the soul.”

“Okay,” Pao said, and he began to talk, telling them everything about his recent adventure.

When he finished, he pulled a purse from his belt and set it on the table between them. “That’s my portion of the gold from killing the bandit,” he said. “I want you two to have it.”

“We can’t take it from you,” his father objected. “We are already—”

“You didn’t ask for it, I’m giving it to you because I don’t want it,” Pao said. “Having it reminds me of what I did to get it. Whatever I buy with it will be tainted. But if I give it to you, then I can say that I did something good with it. Something that I’m unashamed of. So, please. Take it, and help me bear this burden.”

His parents exchanged another look that said more in a few seconds than a lengthy conversation could communicate. Then his father took the purse and carried it into another room. He returned a moment later and sat.

“So. Tell us. When are you going to marry Ko?” His mother asked.

“Mom!” he objected, and the parental teasing began.

~~~~~~

Won and Ko sat atop the cultivation hill. Between them was a sac of coins. They knew that the other two of their quartet were planning on giving their proceeds for killing the bandit to their parents, but they remained undecided on what to do with their own windfall.

“Dad will just drink it away,” Won said.

“Mom won’t let him,” Ko argued.

“She’ll give in like she always does,” Won argued.

“There’s too much here for them to spend on wine,” Ko said.

“Then he’ll find some other way to waste it.”

The twins looked at each other, then looked away. Their mutual shame in their parents was as much something for them to bond over as it was a point of contention.

“We should give it to the elders of the village,” Won argued.

“Why would we do that? We don’t owe them anything.”

“For safekeeping. Or something.”

“No, that’s an idiotic idea,” Ko said. “If you do that with your half then I’ll mock you for the rest of our lives.”

“Okay, so what should we do with it?”

Ko was quiet. “We should talk with someone who knows what to do with money like this,” she said eventually. “Do you think Lord Hara would mind if we asked him for advice? Aside from the Shen family, he’s probably the richest person in Susuka County.”

Won sighed, looking at the flames of the ever-burning brazier. “Yeah, okay.”

With that much decided, the twins quietly cultivated for a few hours. When darkness fell, they retired to the bedroom they shared in the Shen family manor.

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