Shen Chunhua had kept true to her word, and had indeed cooked a particularly delicious rabbit stew. The Shen household was awash with laughter and merriment, as after taking each bite of stew, Anjia and Jintian both couldn't help but ruffle Xiacheng's hair and praise him endlessly. At first Xiacheng had looked pleased with it, but by the end of the night he had begun swatting their hands away.
Anjia even poured himself and Jintian Baiju to celebrate, their faces flushed as they each sighed emotionally at the growth of little Xiacheng. After a few drinks, Xiacheng cleared his throat.
"What is it, son?" Anjia asked, smiling. The young boy's eyes had begun lingering on their drinks, something that had not escaped either of the two older men.
"Father, do you think I could try some?" He asked hesitantly, and Jintian hid a snicker as his father's smile widened. Anjia shared a glance with Chunhua, who also smiled a bit.
"Aiya, what do you think dear wife? Has he earned a sip?" He asked, and Chunhua hid her mouth with a hand, though could not stop her eyes from crinkling.
"Well, he is a proper man now. Whether or not he can even swallow it, is up to him." She reasoned, schooling her expression into motherly severity. Anjia then turned to Xiacheng.
"Do you hear that son? Your mother says you can have a sip, as long as you swallow it. If you do not, however, you cannot have another sip until you turn fifteen." He warned. Xiacheng's eyes glittered with excitement. "Do you want to take that gamble?"
The young boy hurriedly nodded, slapping his chest proudly. "I, Shen Xiacheng, am my father's son!" He exclaimed, and Jintian clapped to the side, laughing.
"Yes, my brother is a tiger among men. Let him try, Father!" He cheered, and Anjia then handed his cup over to Xiacheng.
The boy took it, his eyes shining as he put the cup to his lips and took a large sip. The older members of the family waited with baited breath, and as Xiacheng's face screwed sideways with disgust, they erupted into laughter. He hurriedly put the cup back into his father's hand, sticking out his tongue and wiping it off with his fingers.
"But he swallowed it!" Jintian eventually yelled with laughter. "That means you can have another sip whenever you want, Chengcheng!"
"I never want that disgusting thing again!" Xiacheng shouted back, moving his tongue to his sleeve. This made the family laugh louder, and eventually Xiacheng ran to the well outside for water.
"That ought to keep him from trying to sneak it away when he's older." Jintian reasoned, once their laughter had quieted and Xiacheng had retreated to his room in angered protest.
"It didn't stop you." His mother pointed out, and Jintian cleared his throat, scratching his cheek awkwardly. She then rose with a satisfied sigh, taking all of the dishes to their wash basin. Anjia had taken little Xiyun, who had slept through their previous laughter. Jintian rose from his seat, patting his stomach.
"I'm going to turn in. I've got a long day of traveling tomorrow." He stated, but just as he was about to turn away Anjia cleared his throat.
"Actually, sit down for a bit. Chunhua, you come sit too. I want to discuss this with you both." He said, and Jintian blinked before retaking his seat. In a few short moments, Chunhua joined them as well, wiping her hands and taking the seat next to her husband.
When the three eldest members were ready and attentive, Anjia fixed his gaze on Jintian. "Son," he began quietly so that Xiacheng would not hear them, "I wanted to continue our discussion from the other night. About you leaving for Li Dongfei's shop in Chenghe. Is that still something you wish to do?"
Jintian nodded, and Chunhua sat straighter as she studied his expression. "Yes, Father, it is."
Anjia clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "You do not need to. There is more than enough work for you around here."
Jintian took some time to organize his thoughts, before he took a deep breath. Then, he bowed his head, so low that his forehead touched the table. Anjia immediately held his breath, and Chunhua laid a hand on his back.
"Father. I have always been grateful to you. Despite the fact that I am not your blood, you have never treated me any differently, and in fact have shared with me your wisdom, your quiet strength, your sense of duty, and your honor." He said. His voice was quiet, yet rang powerfully with the love and admiration in his heart. "These are all things I will carry with me for the rest of my life, and in my heart, you have long since become my blood father. However, I cannot keep relying on your kindness. I must make my own path."
Anjia sighed emotionally, blinking away the wetness in his eyes as he saw that his son had not yet raised his head. Chunhua quietly dabbed at her own eyes, sniffling beside him. "Jintian." He began, his voice quivering. "When I married your mother sixteen years ago, I accepted you as my son. And every day since then, you have continued to only ever make me proud with your honesty and your sincerity. In my heart, you too are my blood son. In fact, I…" He glanced at Chunhua, unable to continue as his emotion bested him.
"Your Father has arranged for you to inherit the farm, Jintian." Chunhua finished for him, and smiled as the youth's head rose sharply.
The three of them continued to look at each other for a long time, letting the emotion pass between them silently. When the silence finally broke, it was Jintian who spoke.
"I cannot accept that." He said, and both Anjia and Chunhua were about to speak before he raised a hand and shook his head. "I know. And I am eternally grateful to you, Father. But it would not be right for me to take what is rightfully Xiacheng's. Even if we were to divide the land evenly, he would be less fortunate for it. And now with Xinyu, you must prepare a dowry for the day her marriage comes. With that in mind, I cannot claim to be a dutiful son, and claim this inheritance in the same breath."
Anjia bit his lips, and Chunhua looked at him before turning back to Jintian. "Your Father does not think like that. You know it too, dear son." She whispered, and Jintian smiled.
"I know. But I do. But do not worry. I will make the Shen name far renowned for its prowess, and when I return, it will be with blessings of my own to give back to you for your love, and your support." He said, lowering his head once more. "So please, Mother, Father. Let me go to Chenghe."
Anjia and Chunhua shared a look between each other, the emotion unreadable in their eyes. Finally, the former let out a sigh, while the latter smiled bitterly. Anjia then turned his attention back to Jintian.
"Very well, Son. Then with our blessing, after the harvest, you may pursue your apprenticeship in Chenghe." He stated, and Jintian breathed out in relief, weight he hadn't known he'd been carrying finally falling off his shoulders.
He had always been confident he would receive their blessing, but finally hearing it for certain put him at ease. He raised his head, then thumped his chest.
"I will make you both proud!" He declared, then rose from his seat. Anjia nodded his assent for the youth to leave, and only when they heard his door close did he look down at his Xinyu.
"You already do." He said quietly, and Chunhua kissed the top of his head, rubbing his back.
In his room, Jintian took a steadying breath, before smiling to himself. He had said everything he'd wanted to say, and made all of the points he'd wanted to make. His hours spent rehearsing his reasoning since their last discussion had paid off.
He then raised his head to look at his room. There were a few calligraphy scrolls hanging on the walls, things he had always taken a fascination with when he visited the market. He had a small bed, a dresser, and a study desk where he had learned to read and write with a tutor his father had acquired, and a half-finished scroll that he had convinced himself that reading would benefit him.
But Jintian found his eyes drawn to what rested above his desk. There was the only material possession his father, his blood father, had left for him. It was a beautiful Jian, with a dark jade scabbard inlaid with golden markings. The hilt featured an ebony core wrapped with black leather, two golden dragons curling around each other to serve as the handguard, and a gold dragon's head with jade eyes to serve as the pommel.
Although the sword looked fearsome, Jintian was sure it was purely decorative or ceremonial. His father had not taken it with him to war when he left, after all. Jintian bowed to the sword. He had never known his father and never would. He had perished in the Three States War when Jintian was an infant. The only thing that surfaced in his mind when he thought about his father was the vague feeling of a warm hand on the top of his head.
"Father. In only a few months time, I will leave my home and travel the world, as you once did." He said quietly. "I have no intention of becoming a warrior though, like Mother says you were. I hope instead to become a merchant, and to bring great wealth to my family."
He stayed bowed for a few moments longer, before straightening. He contemplated for a few moments, and then reached up and took the sword from its mount. It always felt warm in his hands, and as he slid his hand to the hilt, he found it fit him perfectly.
"I wonder… would you be proud, of my decision?" He whispered. "Or would you feel ashamed, that I do not put the gifts you've given me to more honorable use?" He slowly slid the blade outward from the scabbard. The blade rang against the jade, until he had pulled it out entirely. The steel of it was dark black, tempered with a dual golden edge that only convinced Jintian further that the sword was ceremonial in nature.
Still, it felt natural in his grip, and he leveled the tip perfectly outward from his chest. Holding the scabbard in one hand, he lunged forward on one foot, thrusting the sword through the air.
He stayed in that position for a moment, the sword tip stabbed upward slightly into the throat of an imagined helmed soldier. Sometimes, when he felt absent from his father, he practiced with the sword. He even felt like he could sense his presence, at these times, doing what his mother said his father had never skipped a morning to practice.
Sighing, he slid the blade back into the scabbard. It rang almost sorrowfully in his ears, and he placed it back onto the wall mount. Then, he changed out of his clothes and collapsed onto his bed, where dreams quickly took him.
-
Shortly afterward, in a location that would take nearly a month on horseback to reach, a figure meditating in a cave far underground slowly opened his eyes. He was old, yet dignified, his long white hair falling neatly behind his back and his wrinkled face featuring a trimmed beard.
"That Sword Qi again…" He murmured, and he breathed in deeply, before exhaling. As he did, a layer of frost could be seen gathering along the stone around him.
After a moment, he traced his finger in the gathered frost. His hand blurred, and in the time it took to blink, a rough map had been traced along the stone. Satisfied, he waved his hand over the frost, and it peeled itself from the floor.
Taking a pouch from his sleeve, he produced a scroll, and held it outward. The frost then dissolved into the parchment, rapidly blackening until it resembled ink.
"Wu Mingjie!" He rasped, and in the span of a breath a handsome youth had appeared within the cave, kneeling with his forehead touching the stone. If the cold of the ice around him bothered him, he did not dare show it.
"Yes, Master." He said, his tone reverent. The old man studied him for a few
moments, before tossing the scroll toward him. Without looking, the youth raised a finger, and stowed the scroll into a bag at his side.
The old man tapped the floor with a fingernail, causing a sharp ringing sound to pierce the air. Wu Mingjie raised his head, looking at his Master. "Twenty years ago, I felt a Sword Qi that made my very bones tremble." He began. "It fell through the sky like a comet, and then disappeared. Then, nearly eighteen years ago, I felt a Heavenly Lightning so profound that I still sometimes ponder it to gain enlightenment. That same Sword Qi rose up against the Heavenly Lightning, and both disappeared."
He then raised a wrinkled finger towards the bag that Wu Mingjie had stowed the scroll away in. "Over the past twelve years, I have felt that Sword Qi time and again, however only for brief moments. But over time, I have noticed that it has grown weaker, and weaker."
Wu Mingjie furrowed his brow. "They are dying?" He asked quietly, and the old man chuckled.
"It is not a person, Wu Mingjie." He said leadingly, and Wu Mingjie's eyes began to shine brilliantly. Satisfied, the old man nodded. "It seems as though facing the Heavenly Lightning was too much for the wielder of that Sword Qi. As such, its power is waning, without a proper master to cultivate it. My Disciple, you are still in the Qi Condensation Stage, and I have not bestowed upon you any treasures, nor allowed you to join any Sects. However, if you grasp that sword, then it shall be the greatest treasure you will own your entire life! With it, I will even make arrangements for you to join… the Heaven Dragon Sword Sect!"
Wu Mingjie took a deep breath, his mind racing at his Master's words. Soon, his excitement was tempered, as he frowned. "But Master, would not others have felt that same Qi?" He asked curiously, and the old man shook his head.
"It lies within the mortal realm. Furthermore, the Sword Qi is now only at the level of the Great Circle of Qi Condensation. Were it not for the fact that it borders my own territory, and that I am at the peak of Core Formation, even I would not have felt it any longer. Still, it now only being a Qi Condensation treasure does not erase the fact that the power it once held was far greater. If you acquire it now, and refine it as you progress on your journey, I have no doubt it will regain its former glory!" The old man declared triumphantly, and Wu Mingjie took a steadying breath.
He lowered his head to the floor once again. "Master, you have truly blessed me on this day. I will never forget your kindness for as long as I live." He said, and the old man nodded, once again closing his eyes and resuming his meditation.
Knowing he had been dismissed, Wu Mingjie rose to his feet, and a heartbeat later he exited his Master's cave. He thought for a few moments, his brows furrowed.
"Just because the great expert who wielded that sword is far weaker than he once was, does not mean he is without any defenses." He thought seriously. "My Master said the Qi he sensed was at the Great Circle of Qi Condensation. While we are of the same cultivation base, he may have many terrifying secrets and techniques."
After pondering this for a few more moments, he reached into his pouch and procured a jade slip. After speaking into it, he was joined shortly after by two older men, each who bowed to him respectfully.
"Young master." They greeted, and he nodded to them.
"Come with me. We are going to the mortal realm, to procure an item for my Master." He said, and the two older men shared a glance, before bowing to him once again.
Although they were only in the Eighth Circle of Qi Condensation, he knew them both to be crafty men who had procured many life saving measures over their lives. He would use them to test what measures the former great expert had prepared for his defense.
After studying the scroll Wu Mingjie had been given, the trio shot off into the distance at blinding speed.
Toward the State of Wei.