In my day, you’d never see a cultivator pushing papers. The world has come to disgrace on this and I, for one, blame that Jade Scaled bastard. – Elder Sui of the Rising Inferno Sect

* * *

Anyone who lives their life under the vicious yoke of the sun is objectively wrong. The sun is a celestial body, but that doesn’t give it the right to tell you when to sleep and when to rise. You don’t see the moon bowing to its tyranny. The moon dictates its own hours, rising during the day, staying up all night, doing whatever it wants.

Be rebellious. Be like the moon.

In a like manner to the beautiful body of silver light that I built my life and my cultivation around, I did not wake at any point near the rising of the sun. In fact, I think the sun might have already been on a downward trend by the time I woke the next day. When I did, I felt refreshed. The nightmarish voices in my head had been manageable, and I even slept right through Tenri’s departure for the administration office.

Honestly, does that man ever take a break? In nearly two weeks since I’d been freed from prison, I couldn’t think of a single day he took off of work. It was unhealthy. He was going to age a thousand years in the space of twenty, at this rate. Cultivation may let the body feed on qi and stave off the effects of aging, but not even the Ascendents are immune to the wrinkles that come from stress. Taking time to relax is important, it’s how I’ve kept my charming looks for a thousand-thousand moons.

For the first time since I’d returned to the world, I found myself with nothing to do. I could go for a walk in the forest, bore myself to death with cultivation and qi circulation, go shopping, climb a tree, or sleep the day away! The possibilities were endless!

But, first thing’s first. I rose, stretched, and rummaged through the few possessions I’d collected in the past two weeks for my hairbrush. The tangled state of my hair was shameful after the storm, and so I spent several minutes devoting the time and energy to brushing out my hair and tying it back into a tight knot. I always preferred a loose, devilish kind of look, like the kind of man who would rescue all the damsels in distress and leave them pining over his dashing smile for the rest of their days while he returned to his one true love.

It took a lot of work to maintain hair down my back, but it was well worth it. The Sword Saint had once mocked me for being fussier than a young mistress on her wedding day, but I didn’t really care. He had always gone for the ruggedly handsome without even trying look. Some people liked that sort of thing, I guess.

Chiho whistled its approval as it settled in, and I finished getting dressed. With everything in its rightful place, I stepped out to greet the day…only to find no one home.

Still, that didn’t deter me. I had a few chores to do, errands to run, so I figured I’d get started. I washed out the bandages I’d been loaned. The cuts on my hands were healed enough that my cultivator resiliency would take care of the rest, regardless of Tenri’s concerns, meaning that I could return the clean bandages to Zhao Jaili’s clinic. Now seemed as good a time as any, since I had little to do.

I stepped out of the house and was surprised to see the little koi pond at the front of the Tenri household was fully repaired after I’d unceremoniously fallen in on my first day back. The fish were swimming languidly in the pond, happy as can be, and the flowers had been freshly replanted. There wasn’t even a hint of damage or debris from the storm. When had Tenri gotten the free time to garden? Or was it just proximity to a wood artist that let the flowers grow so cleanly on their own?

Regardless of the means, it was clear that Tenri had poured his very heart into those flowers. Delicate pink and silver petals stood in stark contrast to rich green leaves. A bush of full, blushing peonies overlooked the pond, where several lotus flowers rested in the calm waters. Next to them, several silver Heaven’s Lilies clustered together between the azaleas. And, at the center of the pond, a small clay pot stood in the pond holding the most magnificent blue and silver flower I’d ever seen. Its petals shimmered with vibrant qi, and I had no doubt that it was a treasure in its own right. Its round blue petals curled around each other, jealously guarding the tall silver stamen. It was a beautiful centerpiece, a stark contrast to the pink flowers around.

Yet, the flower looked lonely. It was the only one of its kind in the garden and was separated from all the rest by the lake. Did Tenri do that on purpose? Raise it on a pedestal so the other flowers knew it was superior? Or was there some other reason it was all alone?

“I’ll have to ask Tenri about you, my friend,” I said to the flower before standing. I cast one last look at the flower before I remembered my errands. The afternoon sun wouldn’t wait forever, and some people were stubborn enough to set their clocks by the pompous celestial body.

People called out greetings to me as I walked down the streets of Saikan. Everyone had heard the tales of the storm, both the heroic rescue of Xi Qian, and the fabricated version of how the lighthouse had shone so brightly to guide them home. I was a folk hero for “letting a shade possess my body.” Even if that part wasn’t quite true, it was still an impressive feat for those who had never known the cultivator’s life.

Before, I’d just been some cultivator. I was worthy of people’s respect for that alone, and no mortal dared insult any cultivator for fear that it would lead them to an early grave. That was just the way of it. But, a cultivator who was a hero? People were suddenly offering me gifts of fresh fruits as a long-term way to keep me around. I’d seen it before. Sometimes it worked, and cultivators gave up their lives of heroics to settle down. Other times, it didn’t. However, their goodwill gave me a warm feeling inside. Their smiles were enough for me…but I accepted a few of the gifts anyway so as to not be rude.

“Zhao Jaili?” I called as I stepped into the clinic. The front room was the same as it always was, with floor to ceiling shelves of various common remedies and herbs. The more valuable remedies were kept further in, along with the beds for patients too ill to remain at home.

The medicine woman stepped out from the back a minute later. “Oh, Master Tsuyuki. I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything alright?”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“It is. I just wanted to return the bandages. I’ve already washed them.” I presented them to her, and she took them graciously.

“That’s very kind of you.” A look passed over her features, like she wanted to ask something, but then she shook her head. I cocked my head in question.

“What is it?”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose. It’s quite beneath a cultivator like yourself.”

“Nonsense,” I insisted. “I find myself with some free time, today.”

Zhao seemed to think, then she relented and gestured for me to follow her. The back-most room of the clinic was filled with rows of beds. Flowers sat at the end, growing towards the large windows making up the back wall. At the moment, only two of the beds were filled, but I spied Xi Qian sitting on a third, seemingly dozing.

“His sister has lunar fever,” Zhao explained. “It’s a common sickness among the children and elderly on the Shore, the result of-”

“Qi poisoning,” I finished. She nodded.

All living beings, even mortals, have qi in them. However, only those with an affinity for a specific form of qi can harness that variant into a core for cultivation. But, in places where qi is abundant, those without affinity to that qi can be infected. Those who lack a spiritual core, or who are foolish enough not to maintain defenses on their core can develop qi fever. Severity varies from case to case, ranging from mild to fatal, depending on the qi source and the victim.

“Xi Lihua and Sei Ren are both sick, but little Ren has been very keen to learn about the wandering cultivator in town,” Zhao explained. “I was hoping you might be willing to say hello.” I smiled and nodded. The medicine woman crossed to the far bed and sat down. “Ren? Little Ren, are you awake? We have an honored guest to see you and Lihua!”

The child sat up and coughed. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had dark circles beneath them. That didn’t much surprise me. Lunar fever typically came with extremely vivid nightmares. However, when he spotted me, his eyes went wide, and he filled with energy.

“It’s! It’s! It’s him!” he exclaimed. “The one Xi said lit the lighthouse!”

I grinned at him. “I figured I’d stop by and pay my respects to the local warriors.” Ren giggled as I sat on the bed next to him. “How goes the fight against the fever?”

“Miss Zhao’s mushrooms smell bad,” he complained, “b-but I can handle it!”

“I bet you can! I met a spirit tiger on the slopes of the Indomitable Mountain, once, and you certainly have it beat in fighting spirit.”

“Whoa! Really?!”

“The Indomitable Mountain? That’s quite the distance away,” Zhao noted. “Master Tsuyuki is well-travelled to have been all the way to the Phoenix Empire.” I smiled sheepishly. At the time, it had been under the rule of the Mountain Lord, Xiran Yi, but that was an age ago. I’d never heard of this Phoenix Empire, which only served to strum a thread of homesickness that had long been growing in a quiet corner of my heart.

“Oh! Oh! Tell the story of the lighthouse!” Ren insisted.

“Didn’t Xi Qian tell it earlier?” I asked.

“Yes, yes I did,” muttered the exhausted fisherman. I turned to see he’d woken from his slumped nap. “But my version is too dark, since I was scared shitless at the time.”

“Stormy waters not to your liking?” I couldn’t help but poke fun at him a little bit. After all, I did tell him not to go that far. The whole event could have been avoided.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for the sea after that,” he answered. “Maybe I’ll pick up carpentry or something. It’s safer.”

“You could become the lighthouse keeper?” I offered. “The position is open, and you of all people would understand its importance.”

He pondered it. “Not a terrible idea. I’ll consider it. Thank you, Master Tsuyuki.”

Ren began to pout, so I turned back to him and began to tell my story…or rather the version that was public knowledge. I started back with the investigation of the lighthouse and fighting Sai Lyn. When I got to the part of the story where I fixed the mirrors, I let the boy see the healing cuts on my hands and forearms. Zhao whistled her appreciation.

“Cultivators really do heal fast,” she said.

I shrugged. “I’m just bronze. Once you hit Iron, only major injuries really matter. At Gold, you can mend bones in an instant. By the time you reach Salt, only attacks of qi can truly hurt you.”

“You sound awfully experienced on the subject.”

“I…uh…had a good master?”

Zhao narrowed her eyes in scrutiny, but a bell at the door drew her attention to a newcomer. A moment later, Xinya entered, carrying several empty bottles in her hands.

“You can set them on the back desk, Meimei,” Zhao instructed. “Tell your father I’m glad he took them before he fell sick from being in the cold water too long.”

“I will,” Xinya dutifully answered. Before she left, she turned to me. “Oh, Mister! Funny running into you here! Listen, my dad wants to thank you for helping save him, so I was instructed to invite you to dinner tomorrow night, if you would honor us by accepting.” She bowed deep, clasping her hands before her in a way I’d never seen the rude child do before.

“It would be my pleasure. I’ll be there.”

Suddenly, her face lit up with excitement. “Great! It’ll be a meal to remember, for sure!” Then she rushed out, back to her excitable self. Zhao, Xi, and I all laughed. Oh, to be a child again.

* * *

As I wandered the streets in quiet contemplation, the sun began to sink towards the horizon. The tall, multi-tiered roof of the administration building loomed ahead of me, and I made my way to it. Maybe Tenri would have an answer to my dilemma.

The dilemma in question, was one of manners. In my day, it was polite for any guest to bring a gift when invited over for dinner. It could be anything, save for a few taboo items like knives or clocks. However, I had no idea what was polite here in the modern Moon-Soaked Shore. What were the taboos? What would I do if I accidentally offended Lang by giving him something culturally repulsive?

Tenri would know what items to avoid. I raced up the stairs to the administration building and poked my head inside.

“Tenri?” I called.

“Cousin Lin is busy,” answered Zumi. I looked down at the little man. He scowled back.

“It’s the end of the day,” I said. “Surely he is due for a break.”

“He has much work to do, and little enough time to do it. He’s an esteemed cultivator. He doesn’t need breaks like us mere mortals.”

“Who are you calling a mere mortal?” I warned. The more I dealt with “Dear Cousin Zumi” the more his face looked like that of a rat. The way he trailed after Tenri was parasitic, like he fed from the joy he drained.

“Forgive this one, esteemed Master,” he apologized, but his tone made it hollow. “However, Cousin Administrator doesn’t need distractions, at the moment.”

Zumi’s implication was clear to me. He didn’t think I was of any use now that the immediate problems were solved, yet only a cultivator could be administrator. By hanging around, I was a threat either to him as the assistant, or to Tenri directly. And even if I wasn’t, I was a frivolous distraction.

“Zumi?” Tenri called from inside his office. “Would you bring me the order forms?”

“Coming right away, Cousin,” Zumi answered. He sneered at me, as if this interaction had somehow proved his point. I just shrugged. Tenri was clearly asking for more work, so I wouldn’t bother him…this time. The forced relaxation would come someday. For now, I resolved to ask Hanako about an appropriate gift.