That night, Wu Ling returned home without purchasing the Awakening Incense that he’d intended to. Su Xiang had insisted on escorting him to the alchemist and then home in case anyone tried to steal the valuable incense from him on his way home. Since she was acting as Su Yao’s guardian for the day, that meant he’d have to wait until morning to make the trip to retrieve the incense before he could make the attempt.
Once morning had arrived he’d all but pulled his childhood friend across the outer city to the crowded shops along River’s Edge where he’d managed to find an alchemist with the right sort of Awakening Incense. Su Xiang was shocked at the price as it was nearly ten times the amount her own family had spent for her to awaken as a Martial cultivator but Wu Ling hadn’t blinked at the exorbitant fee and he paid it without the slightest bit of regret.
Returning home, Wu Ling first brought Su Xiang to see his mother. Having been warned about her injuries, Su Xiang had thought that she was ready to see the woman she remembered for her dazzling smile and ready supply of hidden sweets when she was a child. Instead, she was confronted with a woman whose beauty had been clouded by fatigue, pain, and deep loss. Gone was the once vibrant Sword Dancer and in her place lay a frail beauty, trapped in a bed she needed help to move from. “Mother Wu,” she finally managed to say as she approached the bed and knelt beside the ailing Artist. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit until now,” she said, not knowing what else to say at a time like this.
“Little Xiang,” Wu Ningli said, lifting a frail arm to rest a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. “I was happy to hear that you and Ling’er managed to find each other again last night. You know that you’re always welcome to visit any time.”
“Do you really mean that Mother Wu?” She asked, gesturing to the sect emblem on her white robes. “Brother Ling said that you didn’t want members of the sect to come around.”
“Child, you were never part of the problem, you were far too young then to bear any blame for what happened to us,” Wu Ningli reassured her. “I do ask that you not bring fellows from the sect unless you have good reason to. There have been a few over the years who offered to help me if I’d agree to become a concubine or take some other position in their harem…. Others didn’t say the words aloud but shouted their intentions with their eyes. I brought my husband enough trouble in those days, better to let some doors remain firmly closed. But you, for you, our door is always open,” she finished with a warm smile.
“Mother,” Wu Ling said, stepping close to help Su Xiang to her feet. “Sister Xiang has asked me to become her sworn brother after I finish my awakening. I’m sure we’ll be seeing much more of her in the days to come.”
“Will you attempt your awakening here?” Wu Ningli asked, pushing herself more upright in bed. “I’d like to watch.”
For a moment, Wu Ling hesitated. He knew his mother wouldn’t approve of his plan to Awaken as an Artist, and he’d intended to do this in his own room with Su Xiang standing guard. Looking at his mother’s pleading eyes though, he just couldn’t deny her. She missed so much of his life, what kind of son was he if he couldn’t give her this moment to see him shine? “Okay Mom,” he said with a smile. “Let me fetch a few things and then I’ll begin.”
A few moments later Wu Ling returned to his mother’s room with a simple cushion, a plate for burning incense, and his copy of the cultivation manual that had brought him to this very moment.
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“Myriad Petals Lotus Art Sutra?” Wu Ningli said as she saw the name of the cultivation manual. “Ling’er, what is this? Have you verified that it won’t cause conflicts with either of your bloodlines? We’re not humans to be rushing about picking up any cultivation manual that strikes our fancy, no matter how good the manual is,” she said, worried that Wu Ling hadn’t done his due diligence when selecting a cultivation manual for himself. If they had been at the sect, either her Bamboo Silk House or his father’s Shining Blade Hall, the elders of the sect would have used spiritual tools to verify the state of his bloodlines and determine if there were any complications or incompatibilities with the manual he’d selected, but since they were on their own, she doubted he’d had access to such expensive tools.
“It’s fine Mother,” he said, quickly recognizing her concerns. So many Spirit Folk had traveled to Silver Sword City to become sword cultivators that the expansive city had turned into a melting pot that produced not only countless unique combinations of bloodlines linking back to distant Ancestral Spirits but also countless complications that could arise when a person’s heritage wasn’t suitable for the methods of a given manual. The humans of the southern continent might be individually weaker than most Spirit Folk, but they had far fewer restrictions on the methods of cultivation they could choose.
“This is something I found a long time ago before we left the Bamboo Silk House,” he said, not wanting to explain exactly where in the sect he’d found it or why he’d been there. The answers would only worry her if she knew. “It’s an Artist cultivation manual supposedly written by an Immortal Empress. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but the first few pages are about preparing for Awakening, and even though I haven’t awakened it’s helped me be a better artist. While it doesn’t say much about specific bloodlines, I haven’t felt any signs of incompatibility with the manual, instead, it feels almost like it was made for people like me. Mother,” he finally managed to say looking into her deeply worried eyes. “I haven’t been going to sword practice to learn to be a sword cultivator. I’ve been going to school to practice my zither, painting, calligraphy, chess, and everything else. If I succeed today, I’m going to be an Artist, like you.”
“Mother Wu,” Su Xiang said from the place beside Wu Ningli’s bed where she’d taken a seat to watch Wu Ling work. “Yesterday, I listened to Brother Ling play zither at the Pure Virtue Musician’s Hall that my cousin attends. Everyone looked forward to hearing him play and it was a really beautiful performance. He also painted a portrait for my cousin Su Yao that helped her secure an Introductory Banquet and maybe an engagement,” she added, hoping Wu Ningli would understand how much this meant to her son. “He’s really been working hard to open this path.”
“Ling’er, I’m disappointed,” Wu Ningli said as she stared into her son’s pleading grey eyes. “If you had told me you intended to be an Artist I could have offered help these past few years, even though I can’t cultivate right now,” she continued. She kept her voice light, burying the hurt that Wu Ling hadn’t trusted her enough to share this part of himself with her while he struggled to provide for them both. “I knew you loved the arts from the time you were ten years old when you asked me to get you a zither of your own. I never wanted you to struggle like I did but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be happy,” she said, tears forming in the corners of her silvery eyes.
“Mom,” Wu Ling said, coming to her bedside and wrapping his arms around her frail body in a gentle hug. “Thank you. I was afraid you’d be angry and I just couldn’t….”
“Silly boy,” his mother replied, wrapping her arms around him and hugging as tightly as her meager strength allowed. “It’s good that you told me now. After you awaken, I want to hear you play for me again. You haven’t played for me in such a long time, I want to see how much you’ve improved by attending this school. Now go light your incense, I’ll be right here with Xiang watching for your success,” she added with a smile.