I helped my new friends pack up camp and scurry off into the night, carrying my body weight in possessions and rolled-up canvas like it was nothing. In a stressful but impressively-short span of minutes, nothing was left of the campsite but the fire circle and the embers within - but not for long.

Ken placed his hand within the pulsing glow of the embers and they immediately snuffed out. Then, with a series of sweeping gestures, Big Shilei did something and the circle of stones and the inert ashes within simply sank into the sand.

"You guys know magic?" I whispered.

"No more magic than any other working of qi," Shilei shrugged, as if he hadn't just swallowed a whole-ass fire pit into the sandy soil.

Our timing was good, too - just as we made off along the riverbank toward a safer spot I heard the clopping of horses and the bark of distant, angry voices.

"Yes, I'm sure it came from somewhere around here. I can sense qi as much as any cultivator," one of them said.

"You! Old man! Yes, you! Tell me what happened around here!" another shouted.

"What are they going to do to those people?" I whispered.

"Probably nothing," Ken said. "Maybe rough them up a little. Whatever it is, it's safer for the people than if the Dark Riders found us there."

"We could take 'em," Monkey Yang said. His pack - a rolled-up tent and all of his earthly belongings, including a sizable wooden chest - was almost comically large on his back.

"Yeah, but not without hurting a lot of people. We agreed, Monkey - we only take them alone and without witnesses until we're ready to take on Ieyasu…"

"No offense, Ken, but we'll probably never be able to take on that bastard. He's an expert in the core-formation stage and we've got, what? Shilei and Ichikei? Two chi-refining cultivators and the two of us?"

Monkey Yang glanced in my direction. "Three. I think. It seems we've found ourselves a genius."

I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief despite trundling along at a decent job with a hundred fifty pounds of stuff. So my secret hadn't been revealed yet. Despite my cataclysmic screw-up during meditation, they still thought I was a cultivator, simply a bad one. I could have done without the sarcasm, though.

We eventually found our way to a smaller area… a smaller and smellier area unfortunately downwind from the fish market. It only had enough room to set up two decent-sized tents: one for me, Ichika, and the bulk of everybody's personal effects and one for the three men and whatever else would fit in there. I offered to meditate out front, but Ichika would have none of it.

"Nonsense - you need your rest after a breakthrough. Plus, a woman meditating in front of a tent in the dead of night isn't exactly unsuspicious."

I nodded, even though I was a little uncertain about our sleeping arrangements. Sure, I could fit in the tent with Ichika, but I hardly knew her and between me, her, everybody's stuff, and the four purring cats who'd followed after us, it was going to be a tight fit in there.

And, well… I wasn't sure what they thought about sexuality in the empire, or if people even knew about the different kinds of sexual orientation… but I was most definitely bisexual and Ichika was most definitely hot. Lithe and slim like a pale-skinned Japanese princess, her smooth neck as graceful as a swan's…

Plus, she'd saved me when she thought I was a damsel in distress…

"Come on, you need your sleep." She lifted a calico cat out of the way and patted the cushioning of the bedroll in front of her. Her diaphanous bedclothes draped over her like a silken veil…

"Yeah, okay," I said, swallowing back my reservation. I slipped in next to her, my back to her and my face to the canvas wall six inches away. The calico cat crept up near the crook of my arm and settled in, purring softly. And Ichika's arm slid over me as she relaxed, her hand shifting to my lower belly and just resting there with the gentlest whisper of pressure.

If we'd had a light on, she might have seen me furiously blushing. But I managed to clear my mind and drift into a comfortable slumber…

Well… maybe not so comfortable…

--------

"Fuck! Shit!"

I was somewhere warm and very comfortable. A perfectly soft bed bathed in the golden light of morning, the gentle hum of air conditioning informing me that the temperature would stay exactly as perfect as it was. And somebody else was in the room and… cursing? Then there was the repetitive clicking and the telltale rattle of somebody playing a button-masher of a video game.

"Aha! Got you! I got you!" she shouted.

"What the fuck?" I rolled out of bed and into a crouch, ready to beat the everliving shit out of the invader, only to find myself…

In my yoga studio? Only it was way bigger than it ought to have been, like the size of my high school auditorium. And, obviously, my yoga studio didn't have an oversized version of my childhood bed neatly nestled behind the front counter, and neither did it have an 85-inch TV in the smoothie nook with a skinny black-haired girl loudly cursing as she played some kind of monster-tamer video game.

"Uh…" I muttered. Last time I was here, this place was a lot more like the yoga studio I'd shared with Rhiannon and Bailey. It was clear that, not only had the place expanded, somebody had done some redecorating, influenced heavily from my memories. I approached the girl - a skinny teenager with her straight black hair done up in high twintails. "Who are you."

"Ahh!" The girl leapt behind the beanbag chair she'd been sitting on, spilling the banana nutella smoothie she'd been nursing. As she peeked up from the oversized chair, I recognized her face.

"Lin?"

"Heh… hi?" she said. "I was wondering when you'd show up. Please don't kill me?"

"Why would I kill you?"

She frowned in thought while reassuming her spot on the beanbag chair. With a snap of her fingers, the spilled smoothie was upright and full again, no hint of spill on the studio floor. She fished the controller from under her butt and resumed playing.

"I dunno… you already did once, right?"

"I thought so, too," I said. "Obviously it didn't take."

"I guess," she shrugged. "Plus, I've kind of been living in your place, wherever this is. And for some reason it keeps getting bigger, so there's that."

I sat on a stool next to the girl, examining her. She resembled 'Simple Lin' in the way I resembled my old self, as if everything had been streamlined, the little imperfections smoothed out, the asymmetries corrected, and the physiology brought up way past spec. In my case, not to brag, I'd already been reasonably attractive and the changes had been minor. Mostly, I resembled a younger, prettier sister with a very strong resemblance. Lin, on the other hand, looked how she ought to have looked if she hadn't lived a life of want and misery, which was quite a difference compared to the body I'd awoken in when I first came to the empire.

"Quit staring at me. It's creepy," she said.

"So… clearly, you're not Simple Lin. Not only would she not have talked like you do, she couldn't talk like you do…"

Lin shrugged. "Well I don't have to think with a broken brain anymore. I'm not sure I'm even thinking with your brain, because it feels like somebody else's memories when I reach into yours…"

"You reached into my memories?"

"Well…" she gestures toward the big TV. "I sure didn't come up with Spirit Beast Wrangler myself. I mean it's only fair that I get to sample your memories, right? You get to sample mine and you get to walk around and stuff while I'm trapped in here. So… just desserts, I guess."

"Fair," I allowed. "So can you see what's going on when I'm doing stuff?"

"Kind of. If I concentrate on it. Look." Lin gestured toward the TV screen, which was… blank? No, where was a slight graininess to it and a barely-perceptible strobilation of colors.

"There isn't anything there…"

"I mean… you're asleep," Lin said.

"Ah. Right. So how come I didn't know about you before?"

Lin shrugged. "Dunno. Did anything change?"

"Um. Lots of things? Way too many to count. I turned my qi into a weird onion torus, and now everybody thinks I'm a shit cultivator, but at least they don't know I was actually just blessed by a spirit…"

Lin fiddled with the video game some more - I wondered how a video game could even exist inside my imagination. Perhaps it was better not to ask. "Were you, though?" she asked. "Blessed by a spirit beast, I mean?"

I scrunched my face in thought. "I mean… how else would you explain it?"

"Uh… what happened right before you noticed each change?"

"Nothing," I said. "I just got up from meditating and then… wait… oh…"

Lin rolled her eyes. "Thought as much," she said.

"I'm a cultivator," I said, not quite believing it. My one weird trick that engineers hated (or at least one engineer did) somehow turned out to be a secret cultivation technique. At least it was if Lin was right and, ironically, she seemed like a really sharp kid. A sharp kid currently playing video games in the giant yoga studio of my imagination. "What does this mean for us?"

"Well… I'd kinda like to have a body again," Lin said. "Since, y'know, you stole my broken-ass body and all. So… stretch goals, I guess. In the meanwhile, I'ma need you to think up way more spirit beasts since I'm pretty sure this game is limited to your imagination. And maybe some more smoothie ingredients. Cinnamon syrup, maybe?"

Cinnamon? Ew. "Ew. No way…"

"It's not for you, Lynn. It's for the teenager trapped in your soul."

"Can't you just snap or whatever? Like you did with the banana nutella? Or with the big TV and the video game?"

"Nah, I tried. Anything that's from your memories that I haven't directly experienced just comes out wrong. Though, apparently, a big TV and an imaginary game console was doable. All the food I've poofed that isn't fried rice or donkey jerky comes out tasting like ass. Actual ass, not donkey. Who knows how it works?"

"I'll see what I can do." I paced over to the smoothie area and willed a series of non-alcoholic liqueurs (including, yes, cinnamon) into existence. It was a bit of a strange experience since I couldn't just imagine the bottle and poof out it came. Instead, I had to envision everything - the shape and material of the bottle, the smell of the stuff, the taste of it, the color and consistency, all of it passing through my mind as if I was experiencing it directly… which, ew. There were a few I didn't care for. Cinnamon liqueur? Cotton candy flavoring? Dulce de leche? No thank you. But I thought Lin might like that stuff, so it went onto the increasingly-cluttered counter.

Along with a healthy assortment of fruits and veggies. Dragonfruit! Mangoes! Springs of fresh peppermint!

A strange sensation nudged my body, nearly staggering me, and I realized that somebody was moving my body out in the real world and the call to consciousness prickled at the periphery of my mind. "Oh! Lin! It looks like Ichika's waking me up. Are we going to be hanging out every night when I'm asleep?"

"How should I know? I just live here." Already, her voice grew muffled and tinny, and the world of my imagination receded as if drawn away through a tunnel. "Remember: a body for Lin!"

--------

"A body for Lin," I mumbled.

"What?" Ichika said, propping up onto her elbow. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you. I'm going to go outside and practice some katas if you'd like to join."

"Mmm… what time is it?"

"Almost morning." Ichika rose to her feet with ease and opened her wardrobe trunk, mumbling as she leafed through her many articles of clothing.

"Okay. I'll get up, too, or I'll probably sleep until noon." I leaned in to look over her shoulder, only slightly jealous of the cultivator's large and varied wardrobe.

"Oh, I'd get you up before then. We've got to be out and performing by midmorning at the latest. Or at least Ken will complain if we aren't. Why don't you pick something you'd like to perform in?"

"Can I?"

Ichika and I spent at least fifteen minutes going through her wardrobe and commenting on the various items - the appearance, the give, the feel, how scandalous it would be to perform in, and so on. Her overall mood seemed to be one of overeager relief, gushing over the fabrics and patterns as we held them up to one another. It was very much the demeanor of a woman starved for gal pals, having weathered long and lonely months in the company of only dudes…

Not that there's anything wrong with guy friends, but it must be admitted that the sort who can appreciate floral print on silk are often the same men who don't appreciate the woman wearing them. Not to stereotype, but facts are facts.

I eventually decided on silken burgundy coulottes… which, yes, now that I had access to Ichika's mirror, were quite snug. They'd been tailored for her, clearly - and, while we shared similar lithe builds, I'd clearly spent a lot more time at the squat rack and at the gym in general. My top consisted of a chest wrap and a burgundy vest almost the same color as the trousers, with a saffron sash wrapped around my waist. I looked like a sexy kung fu monk.

"It's not too daring, is it?" I asked.

Ichika looked me over. "As long as you don't bend over facing the audience, it should be acceptable," she said. "What do you think of this outfit?"

Her own outfit was very samurai chic, with a dark, pleated skirt and a pink and lilac half-kimono with cherry blossom print. I looked it over. "Hmm… it kind of clashes, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, and I had to remind myself that they didn't exactly have haute couture in this world. Christian Dior had never existed here.

I held up an alternate top for her inspection - another thigh-length kimono. "Light and dark colors are fine for contrast, but the simple against the complex is a bit much. I would wear this one instead - the silver trim provides a boundary between your top and your bottom, and the garment's appearance of simple panels are almost like armor. It gives you a warrior-inspired look."

"I never really had to choose my own outfits before," Ichika said. She gratefully accepted the garment and allowed me to help her out of the blossom-print top.

"Before what?"

She froze in her spot. "Um. Nothing. Forget I said anything."

"Oookay."

The two of us emerged to find that the three men were already ready and waiting. I craned my neck to see if there was any breakfast available, but I guess cultivators didn't feel the need for three squares. For that matter, even though I knew I should be ravenous for breakfast after an action-packed day the day before, I felt strangely content. Not full, just not hungry.

"Let's go stake out our spot before somebody else takes it," Ken said, and with that we were off.

On our way to the riverside market, we passed the undeveloped area that housed the larger tent city, the one we'd been staying at before my little oopsie forced us to split. Half of the tents had been knocked over, and several cooking fires had been forcibly dispersed, so I guess the Dark Riders searched the place pretty thoroughly. Fortunately, we'd been gone by then.

We arrived at the market just as the vendors were beginning to set up, the sun rising as the morning mists retreated back to the river before disappearing for the day. While about two thirds of the river market consisted of permanent shops and stalls, a sizable stretch allowed for itinerant vendors, performers, and anybody else who couldn't manage a permanent location. A small wooden plaque with four symbols was posted at every cross-street.

"What does that sign say?" I asked.

"No beggars," Ichika said.

"Ah." It seemed that markets were pretty similar between Emerald Vale and Rushing Rivers.

Big Shilei set out little iron flags to demarcate our area, and he and Monkey Yang got to setting up a little canvas awning (repurposed from our tent supplies) while the rest of us discussed what performance to do first. Apparently, Ichika and Yang had a popular act called the Lotus Dance that was a good opener, during which I would tell parents about my upcoming hour-long children's lesson, during which they could go about their shopping undisturbed with a recommended donation of three wu. The parents tended to be equal parts interested and skeptical.

"What will you be doing for an hour?" one man asked.

I flashed my sunny smile. "Stretching games and introductory exercises. It's good for fitness and concentration and might even prepare the children to become cultivators."

"Are you a cultivator?"

"Uh… no? I'm definitely not," I said. "No way. Anyhow, suggested donation is three wu…"

"What if I don't donate anything?"

"Well… if we don't get much for it, we probably won't make the lessons a regular thing. Sorry."

"There's always a catch!" the man said, nonplussed. "Well… I'll give you two wu." He pushed two grubby iron coins into my palm and then nudged his son in my direction. "I'd better get my money's worth."

Two wu was only two dumplings! He'd better not hope he got his money's worth - for my yoga students who paid by the lesson, I charged twenty-five dollars, and private lessons were a hundred bucks an hour. Two dumplings for an hour was more than a steal - it was highway robbery! However, an entrepreneur persists.

"Can you help me get more kids?" I asked the little boy. "I'll give you a wu for every five you find!"

He ran the numbers in his head. "What if I find fifty?"

"Then that's worth a yao! Well?"

"Yeah!" He shot off like a cultivator, flagging down some friends and then spiraling out to intercept any kid under the age of twelve.

Within about fifteen minutes, I'd accrued a following of a few dozen kids and a pouch full of wu, and even a yao or two, at which point I made my way back to our performing area and caught the tail end of the Lotus Dance, which had attracted its fair share of spectators. It… was not quite child-friendly.

The ladies in the audience stood about, some of them fanning themselves. The gentlemen watched with eager attention. And Ichika and Monkey Yang… they danced suggestively. Ichika wore twin anklets chiming with silver bells as she minced forward. Yang sidled up behind her - he wasn't much taller than Ichika, but he did have the scrappy physique of a male dancer. He ran his hands down her sides, pulling the half-kimono taut, the front slipping open enough to expose lots of chest wrapping and firm, smooth belly. He lifted Ichika up and she bent backwards over his head, sliding down his back to grab onto the hem of his trousers and flip herself over and down onto the ground, her skirt pooling about her waist as she slowly lowered into the splits.

And Ken had thought my demonstration the night before was suggestive. The hypocrite! And, judging from Yang's cocky grin…

"Ichika and Yang?" I gasped. I'd gotten no inclination of it beforehand, but if I was any judge of body language, those two were definitely fucking. I debated whether to make my following of children cover their eyes - there was nothing outright lewd about the dance, but it was so suggestive that any adult watching the sinuous undulations of Ichika's body would have no trouble associating it with the beast with two backs. "Um… I'm ready for my lessons!" I interrupted.

Ichika nodded and, to the visible disappointment of the crowd, the two lovers wrapped up their dance two minutes later so I could take the stage and lead the kids through some basic stretches and calisthenics for the next hour. I dumped the change I'd collected into our brass donations vase and strutted out, arms akimbo.

"Okay! Who here thinks they can touch their toes?" I bent down to grab my toes. "Come on, don't you guys want to be strong cultivators? Do you think you can do that without even being able to touch your toes? Streeetch down - knees straight and feet together! Good! Now streeetch up with your fingers out like you're touching the sky! And hold it until I count to five…"

Teaching the kids was almost like old times back on Earth - so much so that I asked one of the kids what her favorite cartoon was, which obviously resulted in a bit of confusion. But it turned out that kids in the empire all had a favorite cultivator or cultivator group… they were called 'sects', which I guess is a bit like a superhero team?

"Dragon-Knives Lim!" she shouted.

"Oh! Dragon knives!" I nodded very seriously. "Okay, I want you to pretend you're holding a dragon knife then. One in both hands just like this. Good! Okay, now slowly move your arms like a… do you have windmills here? No? Move them around and around like the big water wheel!"

I was vaguely aware that my class was going over time - we'd been at it for probably seventy minutes, not that any parents were complaining. A group of about a dozen of them had migrated over to a café across from our spot and were chatting over drinks, and the café-owner obviously didn't mind at all. Then the chatting died down and the traffic along the market-way grew scarce.

It took me a moment to realize that a pair of the black-clad Dark Riders had been watching us with considerable interest - me and my group of twenty or so remaining 'students' along with Ichika, who was doing a juggling act for the kids whose interest in stretching and exercise had waned. One of the men gestured toward Monkey Yang, who quickly shuffled over, his head bobbling in submissive deference.

"What may I do for you, honored cultivators?" he said, somehow managing to get it out without a hint off sarcasm.

"I'll pay you a thousand yao each for your two women - their appearance and skill pleases me, and I wish to know their skill more intimately."

"Sir is very generous," Yang mumbled. "However, this one cannot sell what he does not possess. If it would please you, I imagine my friends can do a suitable public dance that may please you?"

The man snorted. "I do not wish for a public dance. I wish for a private demonstration. If they are not yours to sell, then I will help myself to them without charge. What do you think, Longwye?"

The other man nodded, his eyes fixed on me. He licked his lips in the nauseating way that only truly pervy creeps can manage. "I'll take the one in red. I know how you like skinny little things."

"That suits me just fine." He beckoned us over. "You girls are coming with us." He snapped his fingers. "What, are you simple? Get your perky behind over here!"

At the mention of being 'simple', any fear I had was replaced by intense anger. My hands curled into fists, my lungs taking in deep breaths. I felt what I now recognized as qi thrumming away within me, within someplace that wasn't quite part of my physical body but that resided within me. My dantian, I guess.

"Today's lesson is over, children," I said. There were gasps and complaints - the kids didn't understand what was happening.

"Are we really doing this?" Ken mumbled.

"They didn't exactly give us a choice," Big Shilei replied. "It was only a matter of time, anyway." He took a few steps forward, interposing himself between us and the two black-clad thugs. He met them with a curt bow. "I invite you to apologize to my colleagues and leave with your health and whatever remains of your dignity intact. I will not ask again."

"What did he just invite us to?" the first thug whispered.

"I think the bastard just told us off," Longwye replied.

The first guy didn't like that one bit. "Do you even know who we are, fool?"

"I do not bother to learn the story of what dung I wipe from my boots. I can judge its smell well enough without knowing what cow it came from."

I laughed. The crowd gasped. And a man in glossy dark lamellar plate strutted out from the crowd, a scowl marring an otherwise-handsome face. "I cannot tolerate such disrespect for my men. I might have reprimanded them for denigrating your women, but I can see they judged well in sensing a gaggle of impudent swine…"

"A gaggle of swine?" I mumbled. "Mixed metaphor much?"

"Enough! If Gentleman Liu must make an example of you, so be it! The big one is mine, men - make sure the others don't escape."

"Gladly, boss." Longwye grasped at his short spear and, with a malicious glint in his eye, he crept toward me. "I'll give this one some personal pointers in respect."

But, hey… at least none of them demanded that I kowtow and declare my eternal servitude or anything.