Age 20
The first lesson began before dawn.
Old Mu led him away from the Wanderer's Market, past the last stalls and tents, to a clearing half-hidden by twisted trees. The ground was packed earth worn smooth by years of use. A practice ground, long abandoned.
"Sit," Old Mu said.
Gu Chen sat.
Old Mu lowered himself across from him, movements slow, deliberate. In the gray light, he looked even more pathetic—skin like parchment, eyes yellowed with age, hands that trembled slightly at rest.
But his gaze was sharp.
"You feel it," Old Mu said. "The qi. Pressing against you. Begging to enter."
Gu Chen nodded.
"Most spend years trying to sense it. You've had it your whole life without knowing." He tilted his head. "The question is: can you control it?"
Gu Chen waited.
Old Mu reached out and pressed two fingers against Gu Chen's chest—directly over the cracked core.
The effect was instant.
Gu Chen's body locked. The core blazed, sending tendrils of energy through his meridians, uncontrolled, chaotic. His vision went white at the edges. He heard the Soldier roar, the Beggar curse, the Orphan whimper—
Then Old Mu removed his fingers.
Gu Chen gasped, doubling over.
"Interesting," Old Mu murmured. "Very interesting."
He stood.
"We begin with the basics. Breathing. Meditation. Control." He looked down at Gu Chen. "You have power, boy. More than you know. But power without control is just another way to die."
Day Seven
Every morning, the same.Dawn. The clearing. Old Mu waiting.
They sat across from each other for hours, breathing in patterns Gu Chen's body resisted. In for four counts. Hold for four. Out for four. The qi in the air responded sluggishly at first, then with increasing urgency.
"You're forcing it," Old Mu said. "Stop trying. Let it come."
Gu Chen tried to stop trying. It was harder than trying.
You're fighting yourself to stop fighting, the Soldier observed.
Shut up.
Day Fourteen
Something shifted.
Gu Chen sat breathing as instructed when the qi suddenly gave. It flowed into him—not violently, like during abandonments, but gently, naturally. His meridians warmed. His cracked core pulsed with something almost like pleasure.
Old Mu's eyes widened. Just for a moment. Then they narrowed.
"Good," he said flatly. "Again."
They practiced until the sun set.
Day Twenty-One
Gu Chen was improving.
He could feel it—the qi responding faster, staying longer, settling into his core like water into a basin. His body felt stronger. His senses sharper. He could hear conversations from across the market, see details in shadows that should have been invisible.
Old Mu watched him constantly.
Not with pride—with something else. Something hungry.
He's measuring you, the Beggar said. Like a butcher measures a pig.
I know.
And you're still here.
I need to learn.
The Beggar fell silent.
One Month
Old Mu introduced a new technique.
"Heart Cleansing," he called it. "It will purify your core. Strengthen it. But it requires something from you."
"What?"
"Trust." Old Mu's eyes were unreadable. "You must lower your defenses completely. Let me guide the energy directly into your core. If you resist, it won't work."
Gu Chen looked at him.
Don't, the Beggar whispered.
Do it, the Soldier countered. If he tries anything, kill him.
He's been kind, the Orphan offered. Weeks of kindness.
Not all kindness is kind, the Monk murmured.
Gu Chen made his choice.
"Okay."
The process was pain.
Old Mu's hands pressed against his chest, and energy flooded in—not gentle this time, but aggressive, invasive. It pushed into his core, stretched it, reshaped it. Gu Chen's body convulsed. His teeth clenched so hard he thought they'd crack.
Through it all, Old Mu's face remained calm. Focused. But his eyes—His eyes were hungry. When it ended, Gu Chen collapsed.
Old Mu sat across from him, breathing hard, but stronger. Straighter. Younger.
"Good," he said. "Very good."
Second Session
Same process. Same pain. Same result.
But this time, Gu Chen noticed something.
When the energy flowed, a fraction of it didn't return to him. It stayed in Old Mu's palms, absorbed, taken.
He said nothing.
Afterward, lying in the dirt, he watched Old Mu walk away. The old man's step was lighter. His back straighter. His eyes brighter.
He's feeding on you, the Beggar said.
I know.
And you're still here.
I need to learn.
Third Session
Old Mu's hands pressed against his chest.
The energy flowed.
But this time, Gu Chen held something back. A small piece of himself—a reserve, a secret. Not enough for Old Mu to notice. Just enough to keep something for himself.
Old Mu's eyes flickered. Just for a moment. Then they smoothed over.
"Again," he said.
They continued.
Two Months.
Gu Chen was close to a breakthrough.
Nascent Soul. The realm where the soul leaves the body. He could feel it waiting, just beyond reach.
Old Mu was stronger too. He walked without a limp now. His voice was firmer. Other cultivators in the market glanced at him with something like respect—or fear.
But his lessons had changed.
"You're holding back," Old Mu said one morning.
Gu Chen said nothing.
"I can feel it. A part of you—closed off. Resisting." Old Mu's eyes were cold. "The technique won't work if you resist."
"It's working."
"It's working less." Old Mu stepped closer. "I've given you everything, boy. My time. My knowledge. My techniques. And you repay me with secrets?"
Gu Chen met his gaze.
"You're taking from me," he said quietly. "Every session. You're feeding."
Old Mu's face went still.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
"Smart boy," he said. "Smarter than I thought."
He stepped back. The kindly old man was gone. In its place was something hungry. Something patient.
"Yes, I'm feeding. Yes, I'm using you. But you're using me too. You're learning. Growing. Getting stronger." He spread his hands. "So what's the problem?"
Gu Chen stared at him.
"The problem," he said slowly, "is that you'll take everything eventually. And then you'll leave."
"Leave? Boy, I'm not going anywhere. You're the best thing that's happened to me in decades."
"And when I'm not useful anymore?"
Old Mu's smile didn't waver.
"Let's hope that day never comes."
That night, Gu Chen sat alone in the clearing.
The voices argued.
Leave now, the Beggar said. Before he drains you dry.
Stay, the Soldier countered. Learn everything. Then kill him.
He's not evil, the Orphan whispered. He's just... hungry. Like you.
Not all kindness is kind, the Monk repeated.
Gu Chen listened to them all.
He thought about the power he'd gained. The breakthrough waiting just ahead. The feeling of being seen by someone, even if that someone was using him.
He thought about what came after.
He would stay. He would learn. And when the time came—when Old Mu tried to abandon him, as everyone eventually did—he would be ready.
The Next Morning
Dawn. The clearing. Old Mu waiting.
But something was different.
Old Mu's eyes were assessing again, but not with hunger. With something colder.
Calculation.
"Today," Old Mu said, "we test your progress."
"How?"
Old Mu gestured. A wooden dummy stood at the edge of the clearing—crude, man-shaped, covered in marks from old strikes.
"Hit it with everything you have. All the power you've stored. Hold nothing back."
Gu Chen looked at the dummy. Then at Old Mu.
Don't, the Beggar warned.
Do it, the Soldier urged. Show him what you can do.
He walked to the dummy. Drew on the power in his core—all of it, everything he'd accumulated over two months. The energy rose, filling his meridians, his limbs, his fists.
He struck.
The dummy exploded. Wood splintered. The shockwave rippled across the clearing.
Gu Chen stood there, breathing hard, power fading.
Behind him, Old Mu smiled.
But it wasn't a proud smile.
It was the smile of someone who had just confirmed what they needed to know.
"Good," Old Mu said softly. "Very good."
He turned and walked away.
Gu Chen watched him go.
And for the first time, he wondered if he'd made a mistake.
That night, he dreamed of the monk.
A temple. High mountains. A young disciple kneeling before an old master.
"I trust you," the disciple said.
"Good," the master replied.
The dream shifted. The temple burned. The disciple stood in the ashes, alone.
"Why?" he asked.
No answer.
Gu Chen woke in darkness, the Monk's voice echoing in his head.
Betrayal is the nature of love.
Somewhere far away, in a world he'd left behind, Su Wan stood beneath a dying tree.
She looked toward the horizon—toward a place she could not go, a time she could not change.
"Soon," she whispered.
"Four is coming."