Yue stopped in place, leveling an incredulous glare at Eui.

“That’s not funny, An Eui—even your jokes should have some boundaries.”

Eui coolly met her gaze.

“I’m serious. We don’t know very much about soul magic, but it’s definitely not some kind of intrinsic ability only available to demons and evil fox spirits. The best way to defend ourselves against it is to learn more.”

“It’s not that simple! Hundreds of generations of cultivators have all reached the conclusion that it’s impossible, and I promise you it wasn’t for lack of trying! Obviously they were wrong, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy!”

Jia shook her head.

“No, but I think Eui’s got a good point. And we’re not just attacking it blindly—we have Eunae’s Soulfire at our disposal, and your techniques are already pretty closely adjacent to soul magic.”

“I—wait, they are?”

Eui nodded.

“Yeah—you damaged our soul with Melody of the Dreaming Moon once. And the True Awakening of the Dragon’s Heart that we learned from you is capable of burning essence directly—a small step away from affecting the soul.”

Yue bit her thumbnail and contemplated what her insane friends were getting at. She’d never had much talent for the True Awakening, a spiritual art inspired by—or perhaps stolen from—dragons. And she did know that Yan De had originally sought her mother out specifically for her Melody of the Dreaming Moon—though nothing had ever come of it.

Most damning of all were the Heavenly Host of the God-Emperor. She’d heard the tales, but meeting them in person during the descent of the gods was something else entirely. They were twisted abominations in human flesh—stripped of their individuality on a fundamental level.

There was no question—the God-Emperor knew soul magic, and even used it systematically upon his closest subordinates. Why then, was Yue so determined to believe that it couldn’t be done? The answer came easily to her—she didn’t want it to be possible. She wanted Seong Eunae to be a terrifying exception that proved an otherwise comforting rule.

As always, Yoshika didn’t hesitate to pull her out of her comfort zone and force her to face reality. She sighed.

“Fine. I’ll help you refine your soul techniques—that’s what this is really about, isn’t it?”

Jia scratched her cheek sheepishly.

“Not really? You and Eunae are our best friends, and we want you to get along.”

Yue tucked her hands into her sleeves and pursed her lips.

“I get along with Eunae just fine—she’s a sweet girl, and I consider her as close a friend as any I have, present company excepted. That doesn’t make her any less terrifying. I didn’t mean to accuse you of being mercenary—but you must admit that you have an incredible habit of turning such cooperation into opportunities to grow your power.”

Jia and Eui glanced at each other, then both smiled at her in a manner so perfectly synchronized that it could only be Yoshika.

“That’s what our cultivation is all about!”

Yoshika’s house was always busy in the mornings. While the estate provided by the Flowing Purewater Sect was more than large enough for all of them, the denizens tended to gather in the same living areas by silent agreement.

That morning Jung surprised Jia by busying herself alongside Eui as they prepared breakfast for everyone else. Master Ienaga waited at the table, quietly sipping tea while she performed maintenance on her sword. On the other side of the table, Li Meili and Pan Jiaying chatted amongst themselves.

Yue wandered in, blearily rubbing her eyes and sniffing the air.

“Jung, make sure you keep that spice demon away from my portion.”

“Of course dear, I’ve got an unseasoned batch set aside for you.”

“You are a treasure. Yoshika doesn’t deserve you—you should be my sister instead.”

Jung chuckled and placed a plate of steamed buns in front of her as Yan Yue took a seat at the table. She looked askance at Ienaga, who was dabbing her blade with some kind of powder for cleaning.

“Must you do that at the table, Yumi? I’m worried someone’s going to cut themselves.”

Master Ienaga didn’t look up from what she was doing as she responded.

“I won’t let that happen. I suppose I could do it elsewhere, but maintaining my weapon is a tedious task, and I enjoy the company.”

Jung shook her head and sighed, putting her hands on her hips.

“Just don’t get that powder in the food, alright?”

“I’ll be careful.”

Jia propped her arm up on the table and rested her chin on her palm, just basking in the warmth of being in the company of her family. She smiled up at her big sister as Jung brought her breakfast.

“I take it you’re feeling better today?”

Jung flexed her arm performatively.

“Much! I was just tired yesterday—Lady Xiulan says that I’m close to a full range of mortal function, as long as I don’t push myself.”

“‘Close’ isn’t the same as being better, and that still only applies if you don’t push yourself—you’re sure this isn’t too much for you?”

“I’m fine, Jia—you worry too much. Getting me up and moving is the easy part.”

Jia sighed. What Jung was leaving out was that the hard part was fully curing her illness, which had her on a strict time limit. Lin Xiulan’s treatment might get her functioning again, but it didn’t change the fact that she’d be dead in a year.

“Oh don’t give me that look! We’ve made plenty of progress. Mister Luo and Lady Xiulan both seem to agree that I’m going to need to start cultivating, though—I can’t say I’m looking forward to that.”

Jung had never been interested in cultivation—much more comfortable in her mortality than Jia was. While Jia respected her sister’s decision, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief at the fact that Jung was going to start anyway.

Before Jia could think of what to say, Narae came darting into the room, flying circles around the table and forcing Ienaga to shift her sword out of the way.

“Mommy, Mommy! Look!”

Narae glowed with a soft aurora of multicolored light—the first steps of the True Awakening of the Dragon’s Heart, one of Jia’s more complex techniques. She was a fast learner, but Master Ienaga and Jia were both quick to reprimand her.

“Young lady, if you have time to waste showing off frivolous techniques, you have time to work on your foundations!”

“Narae! How many times have I told you not to fly around in the house! That technique is a weapon, not a toy!”

Narae blushed, bowing in midair as she slowly floated back down to the ground.

“Yes Master, yes Grandmaster! I’m sorry!”

She turned and ran off towards the balcony—her favorite spot to meditate—ignoring Jung calling after her.

“Wait, you can cultivate after...breakfast. Oh well, she’ll get bored and come back once she realizes she’s hungry.”

Pan Jiaying peered down the hall after Narae and bit her lip.

“I've already finished breakfast, so I should probably go train too.”

Li Meili glanced up from her own food and nodded.

“Go on, I’ll catch up later. I need to talk to Yoshika.”

Jia raised an eyebrow at Li Meili, flicking a privacy spell into place once Pan Jiaying had left the room. It was bad manners, but a private discussion between Jia and her avatar technically counted as cultivation secrets.

“What’s on your mind, Meili?”

Li Meili smiled sheepishly.

“Nothing dramatic, I just need another top-up.”

“Already? It’s only been a few days.”

“I know, it’s just—it’s getting harder.”

Jia sat back and sighed. As an avatar, Li Meili was technically part of Jia’s cultivation. However, she had her own mind, her own thoughts, and her own wants and needs.

What she didn’t have was her own soul. Yoshika had created a special construct out of essence, based on one that had been left to her by the demon Jianmo, which simulated a soul. Meili had meridians, and a dantian, and she could channel essence to use techniques. Yet there was something fundamental missing from her—she couldn’t cultivate on her own, and she didn’t have a domain.

She’d suffered a mental breakdown after only a day on her first mission, which not only highlighted a number of Yoshika’s own unaddressed issues, but also revealed several flaws inherent to Li Meili’s creation. She was incomplete—a rushed technique with enormous consequences that Yoshika hadn’t put enough thought into.

Now Jia was stuck dealing with those consequences. Meili was her own person, but she was also heavily dependent on Jia and Eui for her emotional stability. Left to her own devices, Meili would fall apart—figuratively and literally—in a week or so.

The simplest solution was to reform her. The soul framework that she was built around could be recovered and reused, and the mental techniques that went into creating an image for her personality were well-practiced. With enough effort, Yoshika could even make sure that the reformed Li Meili would have the same personality.

Unfortunately, Meili didn’t like that solution. It was what they had done the first time—at her request—but she described it as a total reset. There was a distinct difference between things that Meili experienced herself, and experiences she recalled from before her creation. The former felt more real to her—like they were actually hers rather than something borrowed or inherited.

Jia could understand how that would mess with her sense of self—a little too vividly, since she could still recall Meili’s breakdown as if it had been her own. Apparently that separation of experiences didn’t go both ways.

So they found a compromise. While Li Meili wasn’t capable of independent cultivation, she could share the cultivation of another, to a point. Through joint meditation, Li Meili could ‘become’ Yoshika again for a short while, easing some of her emotional instability and allowing her to go on for just a little longer.

Jia’s avatar had been surviving on this ‘emotional substrate,’ as Ja Yun called it, for months without needing to be reformed, but it was losing efficacy.

“Okay. We’ve got a session with Lin Xiulan tonight—can it wait until afterwards?”

Meili grimaced, then shook her head.

“I don’t think so. It would probably be more effective if I did, but...”

Jia nodded.

“Understood. Meet us in the meditation hall after breakfast.”

Meili bowed, and Jia dispelled the soundless bubble around them.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry for troubling you.”

Jia smiled wearily.

“Your problems are our problems. Don’t worry about it. Take care of yourself, Meili.”

As Meili excused herself, Yue wiped the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief and glanced sidelong at Jia.

“That didn’t take long... I can’t help but notice those little requests are growing more frequent.”

“Yue...”

Jia’s best friend ignored her warning tone and went on.

“What you are doing is not sustainable. You know it, and so does she. Even in its most perfect form, your technique was never meant to create an entirely new individual. As your friend and hers I am telling you that you either need to find a more permanent solution, or make your peace.”

Jia gritted her teeth. She loved that she could trust Yue to always speak her mind, but sometimes she also hated it.

“Not that it’s any of my business...”

Both girls looked up at the unexpected interruption to see that Master Ienaga had given them her full attention.

“But whatever you do, try not to rush into any more half-baked solutions. Lee, you have a bad habit of trying to solve your problems by creating more. The pressure of life or death urgency is good at spurring ingenuity, and that has always been one of your greatest strengths, but it’s left you bad at stopping to think and plan ahead. You are safe here. Take your time, think things through, and only act when you are entirely certain of your path.”

Having said her piece, Master Ienaga stood, sheathed her sword and returned her dish to Jung.

“Thank you for breakfast. I’ll be overseeing Narae’s training for the next few hours if you need me.”

Jia had already been stunned into contemplative silence by her master’s thoughtful words, but her brain stopped functioning entirely when Ienaga punctuated her farewell to Jung with a quick kiss on the forehead. It was entirely without fanfare, and her sister hardly reacted except to smile warmly at the taller woman.

It wasn’t until Jung had left to go rest and Eui sat down with her own—much more red—plate of food that Jia finally regained the ability to think, her tail thrashing wildly as she processed what she had just witnessed.

“What the hell?! Are my moms dating?!”

Eui scoffed.

“Just noticing that now?”

Yue, however, raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“Did you just call them your ‘moms’?”