“I… I apologize, I don’t think I understand what this question is supposed to mean,” he said, his brows slightly furrowed and his eyes narrowed in a confused expression.

I sat under the shade of the tree, my back against its trunk, while Xu Liang stood in front of me. The blades of grass around me were starting to wilt, I noticed, and the fallen leaves, colored with a bright orange, often followed the gusts of wind—bringing the familiar scent of fall with it.

“That’s fine,” I answered. “Maybe my question isn’t that clear—but the point isn’t to get an answer, it’s just to think about it.”

Xu Liang paused for a second, seemingly searching for the right words. His lips thinned and his body stiffened slightly—tension filling him.

Now that I think about it, a cultivator’s senses are great for studying people’s expressions.

Before I could ask what had him stressed like this, he bowed once more, drawing yet another sigh from me.

“If I failed this esteemed cultivator’s test, I apologize for my mistakes—”

“What test?” I raised an eyebrow. Did he think this was a trick question? “Also, esteemed?”

“...Exalted cultivator?” He lifted his head, and now his eyes were wandering on my face—looking for any sort of expression.

“...Alright, let's address this now. Can you not call me esteemed, or whatever, cultivator? I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve this.”

“...”

“There’s no hidden tests or anything of the sort as well, so you don’t have to be on guard every second. You’re already welcome in my sect, Xu Liang. Of course, that is if you haven’t changed your mind already,” I said, the corner of my lips rising at the situation.

He straightened his back, looking a bit less like I was about to kill him if he didn’t bloat his sentences with mandatory honorifics.

The next instant, he seemed to finally accept my words for what they were as his eyes glinted with… determination, and a sliver of happiness.

Before it all turned into puzzlement once more.

“Is—” He gulped. “—Are you… per any chance, a patriarch?”

I opened my mouth, but I swallowed my next words as a thought came to mind. It would probably be too much to ask him to call me by my name right now.

However, I took a second to think before I realized what bothered him. “Don’t worry, even though technically it’s the case, I’m also the only person in the sect. There’s no structure beneath me or anything of the sort.”

It didn’t completely erase whatever thoughts were whirling in his mind, I could tell, but at least he was willing to cast them aside for a moment. “A new sect?” he asked instead.

I nodded, gesturing for him to sit. “Yes, I left mine and decided to create my own.”

Seeing him tilt his head to the right ever so slightly at my actions, I explained, “I need to open your pathways.”

I stood up and brought out from the inside of my long black robe a long needle. Its appearance was ordinary except maybe for its size—easily the length of one of my fingers. I couldn’t afford the jade needles sold back in the Dark Continent, and I wasn’t sure they would do a better job than these.

My hands firmly grabbing the wooden part of the needle—thick but not perfectly circular, I could tell thanks to my heightened senses, I noticed the strange gaze my first disciple was giving me, sitting in front of me.

“What?” I asked.

“I’ve heard acupuncture being part of cultivation, just like alchemy... but could it be that… you are a master at both?”

I blinked. The admiration in his voice was recognizable, but so was the edge of fear. His eyes were dragged by the tip of the long needle, and he followed it as I moved my hand. I felt my face heat up a bit.

Should I… Should I tell him I was just being impatient and couldn’t wait to get my first disciples, so I decided to carry this needle the whole time?

I coughed in my closed fist. “First, I’m not a master at either. I just dabbled in most fields out of… curiosity.”

More like the original owner of this body tried anything to get that sweet cultivation boost. Though it was nothing worth mentioning, since the original Liu Wei was untalented through and through, I, fortunately, gained some of his memories.

Unfortunately, he tried anything, and I ended up with those memories as well.

Needless to say, he wasn’t all that different from the other cultivators.

“Second, what I’m about to do can barely count as acupuncture, if I’m being honest. It’s just a safe way to get your own soul going.”

Honesty was great. But it also did nothing to reassure him. A wrinkle appeared between his brows as he echoed, “Safe?”

“Safer. The other way would mean having my own qi flow into your pathways—and never leaving them.”

Xu Liang sat in front of me, and asked, “What would be so bad about it?”

I circled around and told him to remove his blue robe. Exposing his narrow back to me, he shivered slightly as the breeze hit his bare chest. I kneeled behind him, readying myself. I coated the needle with my qi—a very faint buzz echoed as the air around the tip wriggled being the only proof of my action. When the iron and thin spire pierced Xu Liang’s flesh right at the base of his nape, his whole body went slack.

“W-Whaaat?” He slurred.

When I plucked out my needle, no blood followed the trail. Slowly, he regained control of his muscles.

“Weird, right?” I said, amused. And also, prepared to stab the second spot. “One thing important about acupuncture is that it can be used as a weapon as well. I’m using it to open your pathways, but one wrong move and you could be permanently crippled.”

He stayed silent, though I could swear I heard him gulp at my words. Maybe I should have told him this before I actually went through it.

“What would be so bad about it, huh?” I echoed his question, focusing on where the right spots were.

“The same kind of reason why I asked what I asked: I don’t believe power leaves people unaffected—I have too many examples coming to mind for me to follow this narrative. So what about a power that comes from the very soul? What would it mean? What would it mean for my qi to flow into yours? For the last question, everything I know about qi points at one answer: Nothing good.”

Xu Liang just listened. Well, more like he endured losing feeling in parts of his body one at a time while I spoke.

“For the other questions… the truth is, I don’t know what it all means. I’m walking in the dark, but I’m making steps in it,” I continued, “I think if being enlightened, as they put it, is to be unable to trust anyone, or at death’s door—fighting anything and everything—then I don’t want anything to do with it. Ignorance, if it comes with not being unreasonable, suits me just fine.”

The tip of the needle pierced through his flesh at the top of his shoulder. I didn’t aim at his body, however, but his soul.

I gathered qi into my eyes, and the world gained a glum brilliance.

Faint colors swirled in the air, but the ground was an abyssal dark—one which puzzled me to this day. The world was set alight by a distinctive lack of vibrancy.

Dull.

Everything seemed just dull.

How does the earth itself even die, when it’s alive in other parts of the world?

I erased that thought from my mind, my eyes enticed by the occasional spark of light. I wasn’t here to observe. I turned my gaze to my first disciple.

Slowly, pure energy trickled from the center of his soul down into the vessels connected to it. Openings crept into the closed gateways, getting bigger and bigger with each second.

His qi was like a gas, starting to suffuse the parts of his meridians I opened with my needle. Almost like rays of light piercing through thick darkness.

It was also horribly slow.

“Is… Is cultivation just about wanting power?” The tone of his voice told me this was a somewhat important question for him.

I paused, hands freezing in the air. “Why?” I asked.

“I think… if it’s the case, that I won’t be able to become a great cultivator,” he admitted.

The corner of my lips curved, tensed, and trembled, seconds passing. When I couldn’t hold it anymore, I just started to laugh. Xu Liang turned around, confused by my reaction.

“Great! That’s great!” I barked, getting my breathing back in control. “Being a cultivator only means cultivating. And if you don’t like that, you can just throw the term away and call yourself whatever you want.”

“Ah, well,” he mumbled, suddenly seeming embarrassed. “I don’t know much about cultivators except what is said of them. That’s why I asked.”

He turned back his head in one quick movement. Probably to hide the slight flush his face gained. Smirking, I sighed, before inserting the needle once more into his body.

“...What if one of your disciples desired power?”

“Are you asking that hypothetically?”

“Yes.” His answer was swift.

“Hmm… Well, it depends on what they intend to do to gain said power, and what they do with it. In the end, I have no right to monitor others’ motivations and goals. What I have the right to do, is to choose who I want to teach and who I don’t.”

My needle found another point, right at the base of his wrist.

“Alright, now I’ll work on your other arm,” I said, releasing the one I was holding.

As I grabbed the other, I blinked. “And if the said disciple doesn’t become a mass-murdering machine for the sake of more power…”

I paused, seeking the right words. My eyes went to the sky above, eyes shining in thoughts.

“This constant pursuit of strength…” I trailed off, the sentence slipping away in favor of another one.

“Once gone one realm up, you find yourself the weakest again. All you have accomplished, both the strain your body has put up with and the scars now marring it… nothing’s left of it. Everybody around you is the same or was born into it. You struggle, you struggle, and then you become the strongest. You breakthrough… and then it’s the same again,” I said, the way I felt about it being reflected in my voice—a sad mockery of a life. “What kind of existence is this?”

“So I guess… once my disciple notices that the scars he suffered tell tales nobody cares about and that the Heavens still loom over him, there needs to be a conversation with himself.”

I stopped again, mouth opening but words fumbling around in my head.

“Yeah… One question is enough. If I can, I’ll ask them this: Look at yourself in the mirror, and tell me, was it worth it?”

A smile came, one like I just understood a sad and ironic joke.

“In a way, that’s something everyone faces once in their lives, myself included. If said disciple tells me it was worth anything, then my job as a teacher is done. If not—” I turned back my gaze to the earth, greeted by the raised eyebrow of my first disciple. My tone become more joyful and my smile widened. “—Then there are no worries. Cultivators do tend to live long lives anyway, so he can just try again.”

“What is a mirror?” he asked.

“Eh?”

“You mentioned the word ‘mirror’, and, well, I don’t know what it is.” Seeing me stare at him, he got flustered, a rosy tint coming to his cheeks. “I’m just curious, but I understand if you are not willing to part with your wisdom…”

My lips twitched. This brat.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s something from my hometown. Imagine a glass panel, except you can see yourself in it perfectly.”

He blinked once before giving me a nod. “I see, I thank you for this information.”

Once he turned around again, I returned to unlocking his qi, holding his arm horizontally. I scanned his skin and the shapes of his, admittedly non-existent, muscles to find the exact location of the next acupuncture point.

“...” I could sense him hesitate to speak.

“Hmm?”

“Well, your hometown… If I’m not being too nosy, where is it? I’m just curious where do cultivators come from, since I—We, in this city, only heard of them…”

Memories of a time gone flashed in my mind. Of cities of cold grey, of dizzying buildings whose tips reached a height never seen before. Of the smell of thick smoke and acrid gas. Of… people. People I could never greet again. People I could never talk with again. People I could never hold again.

My smile vanished.

“Far. Too far.”