Book 8: Chapter 66: Morning Stroll

He Jietang tried to glare at the sun, but mostly just managed to squint. He felt terrible, which was something of an accomplishment for a core cultivator. Their cultivation tended to make it very difficult to get drunk, let alone stay drunk, and hangovers were all but unheard of. But it could be done if a man was willing to work hard enough at it, and He Jietang was no quitter. Now that he thought about it, though, he was a quitter. Quitting was actually something of a pastime for him. He quit things all the time. Especially jobs. Oh, he hated jobs. All that working and sobriety were just so damned excruciating. Except, he had to work if he wanted to stay drunk enough to stay sane.

“Gods, the sun is so bright,” he muttered to himself. “Damn you, Chan Dashi.”

That bastard had shown up the day before and, grinning like a fool, given away all of He Jietang’s liquor. Then, to add insult to injury, the man had hung around until morning, just to make sure that He Jietang got up and went to meet up with that Lu guy. Honestly, he didn’t know what Chan Dishi was so impressed with. They’d both seen their fair share of heavens-kissed cultivators over the years. Most of them were dead now. Cut down by sects, rivals, or time. Time was another bastard that He Jietang hated so much. All those cultivators pushing through their advancements, aching for more power and more life. He wondered how many of them would have been so eager if anyone had told them what all that extra life really was. It was one of the thousand hells. Century after century of life watching everything change, everything die, until the world became a place you didn’t recognize anymore.

Then, you found yourself seeing the faces of the dead on the living bodies of strangers. It was a nightmare, but one that He Jietang couldn’t quite make himself let go of. He’d thought about just ending it all. Even prayed for it a few times. It’s not like it would be that hard to find some idiot young master to cut him down. All that stupid pride made them so predictable. A few well-placed comments and the challenges would start flying. He’d even tried it a few times, only to have it all go sideways on him. He’d been too well-trained. Once the blades came out, he just reacted. Then, it’d be him standing over a corpse, or twelve, or twenty. Then, life would get really hard for a while as some new sect kept sending idiot after idiot to restore their honor. Honor? What a joke. He’d been just like them once upon a time, but he’d seen where that road ended. It always ended at your own grave or the grave of a friend.

Trying once more to glare at the hateful sun, he rounded the last corner and beheld Lu Manor. At least, he beheld the walls. Suddenly, all of those stories and jokes he’d heard about Lord Lu’s Fortress of Doom made sense. The walls were massive and a grey as bleak as a field in winter. That alone made them look intimidating. Even from clear down the street, though, he could feel the defenses crouched patiently and waiting for something to trip them. That man doesn’t take half-measures, thought He Jietang. Then, his gaze moved down to the street where he saw all of the glorious carts and wagons. He also saw Lu Sen, smiling happily as he... Was he petting the oxen that were going to pull the carts? He also saw Chan Dishi standing near Lu Sen and talking animatedly about something. Knowing Chan Dishi, it was probably a story about some party that he’d turned into a riot.

He started walking down the street and came up short as he felt Lu Sen’s spiritual sense crash down on him. A moment later, the man’s eyes found him. Lu Sen’s smile disappeared and a deep frown replaced it. He Jietang could read the expression from where he stood. The one that said the man was questioning his own judgment and questioning He Jietang’s capacity to do the work that he’d been hired to do. It was a familiar look. There was nothing to do now but go and see what this Lu Sen would ultimately decide. As he drew near, Lu Sen gave an ox one last pat on the head and closed the distance with a more-serious-than-usual Chan Dishi trailing behind him. Lu Sen looked him up and down before, against all cultivator rules of courtesy, the man’s qi invaded He Jietang’s body. Before he could decide if Lu Sen was attacking him, the qi was gone again. With a sigh that said he was sure he was going to live to regret it, the man produced a stone vial from a storage ring and held it out.

“Drink that,” the man commanded.

Taking the vial and opening it, He Jietang thought his heart was going to stop. He’d had a lot of healing elixirs over the years and exactly none of them had felt like the one in his hands. Chan Dishi glared at him in a very clear do as you're told way. He lifted the vial to his lips and drank. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d expected, but within ten seconds his pounding headache was just gone like it had been fog blown away by a great gust of wind. The light stopped bothering him a second later. Then, it felt like that wind passed through him and carried away a thousand tiny ills that he’d learned to ignore. He felt clear, healthy, like the man he’d been when he’d met Chan Dishi all those long years before. Of course, no elixir could wash away what was in his mind and heart, but even those felt a little less terrible.

“Good,” said Lu Sen. “Now that you won’t set a terrible example for the children, you can help.”