There’s something about being out in town at night that makes it nigh impossible to want to go home.

Maybe it’s the night air, or the fact that I’ve mostly been cooped up indoors. Or, perhaps it’s the amazing woman by my side who’s proving herself as adept at witty conversation as she has at everything else I’ve seen her do.

Whatever the reason, neither Meng Yi nor I have much desire to begin the lengthy walk home. Not when there are candlelit streets to explore, and the appeal of a conversation under the moonlight to be had.

“We should get dinner,” Meng Yi says, and it is only when she does I notice that we’re on the street of the restaurant that she’d taken me to that one time.

The restaurant where I’d met Xiuying for the first time… and consequently made her advance in front of like a hundred people.

I follow her into the establishment, which turns out to be full to bursting.

The Headwaiter, whose name escapes me even though I recall his face, materialises before us in less time than it really should take someone who isn’t a cultivator to manage.

He bows low. “Manager Meng. Young Master Xian Qigang. Welcome to our humble establishment.”

“Are any of the private dining rooms available?” Meng Yi asks, eyeing the crowded dining area.

The Headwaiter bows lower. “My apologies to the Young Master, but we are fully occupied at the moment. Perhaps, if you could wait for just a few minutes we could have a room available for you.”

Meng Yi looks to me, letting me decide.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “It’s fine. Actually, I should apologize, for the ruckus I caused last time. It was an accident but I disrupted your business all the same. I’m sorry.”

The Headwaiter looks up at me with what is almost panic in his eyes, and his head sinks even lower, his bow so deep at this point that he’s literally curved inward.

I wince internally. That looks mighty uncomfortable.

“Young Master Xian has no reason to apologize,” he proclaims. “The incident was accidental, and Vice Commander Xiuying has already made reparations.”

“Oh, uh, okay then,” I say, feeling a little self-conscious by his reaction and the attention it’s drawing. “Have a lovely evening,” I tack on and quickly make my escape, Meng Yi following with what I’m pretty sure is an amused smile at my embarrassment.

I ignore her with great poise.

Two people make their way into the restaurant as we walk outside, a young, beast rank woman in fine clothing whose cultivation sits at the fifth layer of Weaving, and a grey man following behind her in less fine clothing and with a cultivation in the fifth layer of Ignition.

The pair halt in their tracks as we meet, the woman’s eyes widening momentarily before she bows, the man immediately following.

“Young Master Xian,” she says. “Good evening.”

“Good evening,” I say back. It really is taking me much less time than I would have thought to get used to people bowing at me all the time.

In fact, I worry that a part of me might even have begun to expect it.

Her sociopolitical obligation to show me face satisfied, the woman and her… aide? Manager? Whatever. They rise and begin to go on their way. Which is into the restaurant.

“It’s full,” I say. “We just asked, they aren’t any free tables…Unless, of course, he lied to get rid of me,” I muse, the possibility only now occurring to me.

I probably would.

“That is doubtful, Young Master,” Meng Yi says.

“It is? Huh. Good then, the restaurant’s full. We should go somewhere else. How about noodles? I feel like noodles. What about you?”

“Noodles are fine,” Meng Yi says.

“Know a good noodle place?” I ask, and after a moment of thought, she nods. “Awesome,” I say.

“Have a good evening, Young Master Xian,” the woman, whose name I only now realize I don’t know, says and turns to walk off.

“Would you like to join us?” I ask, halting her in her tracks. “I feel a little guilty for being the bearer of bad news, let me make it up to you. You like noodles, right?”

The woman looks like she really wants to say no, which is why when she bows and says, “Thank you, Young Master Xian. It would be an honour,” I realise I’ve messed up.

Not only do I outrank her socially and cultivation-wise, I also have a reputation as being a nasty person.

People like me do not make casual requests of people like her, even if we mean it that way.

For a moment, I consider telling her that it’s okay if she wants to say no, but then I reconsider. Who knows how she’ll interpret that.

I’ve caused enough trouble for one evening, I think.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

So, instead, I say, “I never caught your name.”

“Qian Xinyi, Young Master Xian.” She bows then gestures to the man behind her. “This is my servant, He Mu.”

“He Mu is my mentor,” Meng Yi says, surprising me and everyone else, including He Mu himself. “He taught me everything I know about managerial duties.”

“Really?” I ask, seeing the man in a new light.

Meng Yi nods. “We met at a shop you sent me on an errand to almost two years ago. I was clueless what to do and he helped me. He’s taught me a lot more since then.”

Huh.

Weird how, up until this moment, I’d always just assumed that Meng Yi simply knew everything she did about her job ex nihilo.

“Thank you,” I say to He Mu, dipping my head at him. “You did a wonderful job, she’s amazing.”

The old man bows low. “You honour me, Young Master, but I merely gave her some pointers. You can’t teach talent.”

“No, you can’t,” I agree. “But even the greatest oak was once a seed. I thank you for watering this seed.”

He Mu bows again.

“You know,” I say, “knowing this now, I feel like noodles are nowhere near enough to thank you.”

“You already show us great face, Young Master Xian,” Qian Xinyi says, head dipping.

I nod, accepting.

I’m definitely still going to get He Mu something, but I don’t need to bring that up now.

“Very well then,” I say. “Meng Yi? Lead the way.”

Dinner with Qian Xinyi and He Mu is a surprisingly normal affair.

A little stilted in conversation, since neither would speak unless spoken to, but it’s still not as awkward as I feared it would be. In fact, I enjoy it a bit.

Besides Meng Yi, Xiuying and the Magistrate, these are the first people from this world I’m having an actual conversation with, and while I most certainly enjoy chatting with Meng Yi and Xiuying, it is nevertheless quite nice to talk to other people.

Over the course of the meal, I notice Qian Xinyi and He Mu ease a bit. Not much. Near microscopic, in fact, but it’s there. And it gives me hope that, maybe some day down the line, after years and many many dinners, people just might forget old Qigang and come to accept me.

After the meal, I give them an excuse to go on their merry way, by talking about how it’s late and I need to be heading home.

Qian Xinyi grabs it with both hands, thanking me for the meal and making her escape with He Mu in tow.

“You think people will ever be comfortable around me?” I ask Meng Yi as we watch the pair leave.

“In time,” Meng Yi says. “Soon enough, the old you will be a memory that fewer and fewer people will care to remember.”

I hope so. I really do.

“I’m glad we met them,” I decide. “Especially He Mu. Thanks to him I got to learn something new about you. We’re always focused on me, so I barely know anything about you.”

Meng Yi contemplates that for a moment, then finally she says, “My family lives close by. Would you like to meet them?”

“Oh. You don’t have to do that because of what I said. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I know,” she says. “And I’m not. I’m glad you want to know more about me. And I want you to meet my family because they’re people who mean a lot to me. I want them to meet you, Qigang. I want them to meet this you.”

I swallow. Her words and the look in her soft, brown eyes tugging on all my heartstrings.

I nod.

“I’d love to meet them,” I say.

—❈—

Meng Yi’s words were true, her family does live close by. Barely a fifteen-minute walk away, in fact.

It is a comfortable, blue house nestled neatly at the end of a quiet close, and the closer we get to it, the more trepidation I feel about this whole thing.

What if her family doesn’t want me here? What if, no matter how much supposed enlightenment I’ve gotten, they just don’t feel comfortable with having me in their home? What if seeing me is only a reminder of everything someone they love has had to endure over the years?

Or, worse, what if they are willing to set aside everything they know about me and judge me with a blank slate, and I still fail to measure up?

That would suck. I’ll make Meng Yi look bad to her family.

When we reach the door, Meng Yi doesn’t knock immediately, instead taking a moment to suck in a big, steadying breath.

She’s nervous too, I realize.

Reaching out, I take one of her hands in mine and squeeze it reassuringly like she so often does for me.

Meng Yi throws a grateful smile my way, then she knocks.

The pitter-patter of small feet from within the house announce the arrival of someone before the door opens a smidge, the face of a girl no older than eight who bears some resemblance to Meng Yi peering through the slim crack.

Big, brown eyes widen as recognition sets in, and a shrill cry of “Big Sis!” rings out into the night.

She flings the door wide open and dives at Meng Yi, wrapping the older girl in a tight hug.

Meng Yi catches the little girl easily, spinning her around once. “Hey, Little Tiger,” she says, a brighter smile than I’ve ever seen on her before gracing her face. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine. We missed you,” the little girl says.

“I missed you too,” Meng Yi says, kissing the girl on the nose.

My peripheral vision picks up someone standing at the door, and I turn to see a woman who can only be Meng Yi’s mother standing there, an expression of dread on her face as she watches me.

Yeah, this was a bad idea.

“Hello,” I say, putting on my best smile. “Good evening.” I dip my head at the woman.

Social conditioning kicking in, she bows back, much lower than I did. “Young Master Xian,” she says.

The little girl, still clinging to her sister like a koala on a tree branch, asks, “Wait, that’s the guy you work for?”

“Yes,” Meng Yi says. “His name is Young Master Xian Qigang.

“Young Master Xian, this is my family. My sisters Meng Bingbing and Meng An.” She points at a teenage girl farther inside the house I hadn’t noticed. “And my mother, Meng Huo.”

I dip my head at them. “Pleasure to meet you all,” I say. “I apologize if my presence is disruptive.”

“Oh, no, of course not,” Meng Yi’s mother says, still looking uncomfortable with my presence here.

A surreptitious glance shows that the girl inside is too, and I’m just beginning to wonder if maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to make up an excuse to make myself scarce when the little girl, Bingbing, still in Meng Yi’s arms, asks, “They’re saying you’re a good guy now. Are you really?”

I stare at the girl. “I’m a better guy now,” I say.

She frowns in that adorable way that children manage effortlessly. “What’s that mean?” she asks.

I take a beat before answering the question. “It means I’m sorry for the things I did. And that I’m trying to help the people I hurt.”

Bingbing nods like I’ve just spoken great wisdom. “You should always say sorry when you do something bad,” she says.

“Yes, you should.” I couldn’t agree more.

She peers intently at me then, brown eyes trained on my face.

“Is there something on my face?” I ask curiously, and Bingbing giggles.

“Your beard is funny,” she says.

“It is?” I ask, reflexively reaching up to pinch my little goatee curiously.

Naturally, because me pinching my beard is obviously the funniest thing ever, Bingbing’s giggling intensifies, and she reaches out a hand to grab it too.

Being too far away, her grip falls short by a foot, but never fear, because being a proper big sister, Meng Yi obligingly steps closer to me without needing to be told.

The little girl tugs on my beard, giggling fiercely as she does.

“It’s like a duck’s tail,” she says.

Well now, I can’t let a comment like that pass without response, can I?

“Quack! Quack,” I say. Doing my best emulation of a duck.

Everyone stops and stares for a moment, then I hear a snort from the teenage girl inside at the same time Bingbing giggles even more fiercely.

Meng Yi’s eyes meet mine, a small smile on her face.

I smile back.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.