Cultivation Retirement Plan (BL)

Early next morning, Mo Yixuan woke to the sound of soft tapping on his window. Sensing a familiar pulse of qi, the peak lord pointed his finger at the wooden frame. It opened enough for a small paper pinwheel to come sailing in. He caught the origami and unfolded it to reveal a brief scrawl from Ouyang Che:

- When are you coming back

“......” With a scowl, Mo Yixuan promptly tossed the paper off the side of his bed and went back to sleep.

—

At a more reasonable hour, the peak lord woke again to dress and write back a brief reply. He had just sent it sailing away on his origami boat when another knock sounded on his door.

“Enter,” Mo Yixuan said, already recognizing the spiritual signature beyond the entrance.

“Good morning, shizun,” Nan Wuyue said as he stepped inside. He was dressed in the standard white disciple mourning robes and carried in a tray with some tea and light snacks. As Mo Yixuan had long cultivated past the need to eat, these were just niceties to accompany his morning. “Daoist Su is already visiting his mother and said he’d get the list from his sister. Sir Su is in his study working on reports and will meet us in an hour.”

“And you?” Mo Yixuan didn’t miss a beat as he took Nan Wuyue’s offered teacup. The liquid was a light amber green, the fragrance lofty and elegant. He took a sip and recognized its refreshing, brisk flavor as Iron Goddess oolong, suitable for morning brews.

“I did my usual meditation and exercises,” Nan Wuyue replied dutifully. “I should be breaking through the fourth level any day now.”

“Any side effects from your injury last night?” 

Nan Wuyue shook his head. “I took a healing pill and fully recovered, shizun.”

“Let me see.” Mo Yixuan reached out a hand and Nan Wuyue quickly offered up his wrist. Basic pulse-taking like this didn’t require much medical expertise to master. He confirmed that the qi and blood were flowing smoothly in his disciple’s system before withdrawing. “Mm, good.”

Nan Wuyue beamed at him, as docile as a lamb. Mo Yixuan pointedly avoided his stare by looking out the open window. The bright summer sunshine streamed in like a sheet of gold that blanketed the wooden floors in warm light. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.

Happy Ghost Festival, Mo Yixuan thought with a bitter smile. What would the ghost of his mother be doing now? With no one left in the family to give her offerings, he only hoped she had drunk Old Lady Meng’s soup and reincarnated already.

After a while, he realized Nan Wuyue was still here and looked back, perplexed. Back on Mt. Jingting, his disciple would usually leave the tea and go, so what was he doing still hanging around?

“You can leave,” he said to the youth waiting expectantly by his seat.

“Shizun, there were a few cultivation principles I wanted to ask you about,” Nan Wuyue said mildly. “Could shizun enlighten me before we set off today?”

Mo Yixuan found it slightly unusual, but there was nothing wrong with answering a disciple’s questions so he agreed. “Go on.”

Nan Wuyue really did end up asking questions, which Mo Yixuan was better equipped to answer after two months of studying books and texts on Mt. Jingting combined with his own enlightenment in the Dao. Being at a higher cultivation level naturally made him understand principles on a deeper level. Once they were finished, Nan Wuyue bowed and said, “Many thanks again, shizun.” He smiled at Mo Yixuan once again, bright and dazzling.

The peak lord felt a little blinded by the expression as he replied, “A deal is a deal.” This was all part of helping Nan Wuyue get stronger, after all.

“What will shizun do after our deal is done?” Nan Wuyue asked casually. 

“Go into seclusion,” Mo Yixuan replied instantly. Whether or not it was true didn’t matter—he just needed an excuse to figure out details later. “Seclusion” could be closed door cultivation in a cave or finding a way to the afterlife for all they needed to know.

“I see,” Nan Wuyue nodded. “Then I’ll do my best to meet expectations so shizun can retire with peace of mind.”

“Those expectations are your own, not mine,” Mo Yixuan was quite curt when it came to cutting off ties.

“Disciple apologizes for my presumption,” Nan Wuyue quickly changed his tone as he ducked his head.

Mo Yixuan only sighed. It wasn’t like he enjoyed this kind of deliberate alienation either. “Leave me for now, I need to gather my thoughts before the meeting.”

“Yes, shizun.” Nan Wuyue didn’t say any more, but took the finished tea things and exited the room. Patience, he told himself, Don’t rush things too soon.

Mo Yixuan was only left rubbing his temples in exasperation. He could tell that Nan Wuyue wanted to get closer, but he simply had no interest in kindling their past bonds. Frankly speaking, it made him anxious when he would much prefer to be left alone. Right now it was the simple sense of responsibility that tied him to the teen, but eventually children would grow up and take their own paths. Still, Nan Wuyue’s low spirits every time he rejected him was like a tiny prick on his conscience, itchy and vaguely uncomfortable. 

He eased himself into meditation to chase those thoughts away, eventually entering a peaceful trance. Unnoticed to him, the white jade ring on his right index finger glowed briefly.

Abandon ties and sever all emotions...

By the time Mo Yixuan finished fifteen minutes later, he was much calmer. Nan Wuyue felt the difference as soon as his master stepped out of his room: the peak lord was like a placid pool ringed with spring frost, filled with vigor yet undeniably still. The flickers of temper he’d sensed at their last meeting were completely extinguished, leaving indifferent serenity in its place.

As well as a palpable distance.

“Shizun,” he said, stepping forward.

The taller man turned at the address and took a second to process Nan Wuyue waiting. “Mm,” he nodded and kept walking.

Nan Wuyue followed after him with mixed feelings.

—

A noticeably tired-looking Su Shiyu sent them off from the guest hall with some final instructions.

“Here’s a map of the closest town where most of the workers frequent,” he said as a servant presented a scroll to the trio. “If anything, Shimeng can tell you where to go—he’s familiar with the area. Do you need a carriage?”

“No, those are slow,” Su Shimeng refused on their behalf. “We’ll manage on our own, brother.”

“All right then. Take care not to attract too much attention,” Su Shiyu reminded them. “Anxieties are still high, especially on the Ghost Festival.”

“You don’t have to worry, we won’t do anything that affects the business,” Su Shimeng replied curtly.

Su Shiyu looked like he wanted to say more, but ultimately held back and waved them on their way.

Mo Yixuan and Nan Wuyue only exchanged looks with the latter subtly shaking his head. No scent today either. Instead, there was only the faint hint of peonies and medicine—Bai Tingyao’s fragrance from the last time they rode in her carriage.

“Your brother looks exhausted,” Mo Yixuan observed out loud as they left the hall behind them.

“Sis will take care of him,” Su Shimeng said, though he did shift uncomfortably as he tried to convince himself. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

Today he was dressed in loose-fitting, light blue robes more suited to the Jiangnan style down south. His hair was also tied in a half updo, giving him the air of a gentleman. As soon as the trio reached the gates of Su Manor, Su Shimeng took out a veiled hat from his spatial storage ring and plopped it on top of his head.

Mo Yixuan, who had been waiting to see the locals’ reactions to Su Shimeng’s strangely alluring features, was a little disappointed. “Are you trying to hide your identity?” he asked.

“Huh?” Su Shimeng glanced at him through the hazy layers of his veil. “Nah, none of them know me here. But my master told me to do this whenever I visit the Lower Realms.”

“Because of your good looks?” Mo Yixuan asked. He recalled that Su Shimeng had appeared last night with half his face covered too. Was he following his master’s instructions then?

Su Shimeng instantly bristled. “Why are we bringing that up again? Aren’t you a looker yourself?!”

Mo Yixuan creased his brows, but Nan Wuyue suddenly spoke up. “I had a chance to study your face this morning, Daoist Su,” When the two men turned his way, he added shamelessly, “and I think it’s nothing special. Really.”

Su Shimeng’s mouth twitched. “Aren’t you considerate.”

“Enough, we have work to do.” Now it was Mo Yixuan’s turn to twitch. Was this Nan Wuyue’s way of telling him that Su Shimeng’s beauty wasn’t effective on him? Truly blatant.

Bai Tingyao had given Su Shimeng a detailed list of all incidents related to the ghost and its hauntings that compelled her to write the letter. There were a total of 12 standout cases in her report, so the group decided to split up and question the individuals to save time. They would meet to share their findings at the center of town when they were done.

Mo Yixuan’s first three victims were all workmen who had spooky encounters in the mines: echoes that tried to lead them astray, falling rock and debris that injured the arm of one and barely missed the head of a co-worker, or carts suddenly found with their wheels and axles broken overnight. None of them had particularly incriminating evidence that ghosts were at work until he read about the fourth victim, who had apparently seen and heard the mysterious spirit in person. He went to visit the man’s house first, only to be told he was off getting medicine for an ailment at the local pharmacy. By the time Mo Yixuan made it to the pharmacist, he was surprised to see a familiar face at the counter: Old Song.

The swarthy man looked as lively as ever, chatting and joking with the pharmacist as he waited for his prescription. His two friends from the teashop, Bushy Brows and the man with the wide forehead, were nowhere to be seen today. 

Mo Yixuan suddenly recalled that the name of this fourth victim was none other than Song Gehao (宋戈皓). 

“It’s not like you to get ill, Old Song,” the pharmacist smiled as he finished tying the package of medicine. “What now, getting cold feet before you propose next week?”

“Hahah, do I look like a man quakin’ in fear?” Old Song chuckled back. “No, I’d say it’s nothing more than a chill on account o’the holiday. I’ll be right by tomorrow, you’ll see.”

“Alright, take care.”

As Old Song bid farewell and left the pharmacy, Mo Yixuan stepped forward. “Song Gehao?” he asked. 

Old Song looked up in surprise, his eyes widening as he recognized Mo Yixuan’s face and robes, “Why if it isn’t the bloomin’ celestial!” 

“Can I treat you to a drink?” Mo Yixuan offered. 

Instantly, Old Song grew alert. “What for?” he asked, licking his lips nervously. “This...this ain’t on account of the young missus, is it?” After all, he’d ran his mouth off about “Mengmeng” within earshot of Mo Yixuan just yesterday.

Young missus? Mo Yixuan’s eyebrows creased. “No, we’re talking about a different...girl.” Girl ghost, specifically.

Old Song felt his heart gave a jolt. That afternoon at the teashop, he clearly recalled this man getting into the Su Manor carriage and driving away. If they weren’t going to talk about Mengmeng, was the “different girl” his future wifey who worked as a servant for the Su Clan?

He knew he should’ve kept things quiet until he proposed!

Gods, but why was Sir Su and Lady Bai sending this cultivator to find him instead? Wasn’t he here to learn about Miss Mengmeng’s family before asking for permission to marry her? Or did he set his sights on Old Song’s darlin’ and come to issue him a challenge? She hadn’t cultivated a day in her life!

No, I can’t back down. I have to claim back my woman fair an’ square!

“It won’t take long,” Mo Yixuan added when he saw that Old Song hadn’t replied after a while.

“R-right, right,” the man recovered quickly and cleared his throat. “Let me lead th’ way! I was just feelin’ parched on a day like this, haha!”

Since Mo Yixuan wasn’t familiar with the town, he willingly let Old Song take him to the busiest wine shop in town, a two-floor establishment named Joyous Spirit. Mo Yixuan observed the noise and bustle of the customers in the shop and felt a slight twinge of discomfort, but he quickly suppressed it with his Dao. The Way of All-Nothingness washed over his awareness like a balm until the din faded to something within acceptable levels. He didn’t protest when Old Song requested a window seat on the second floor, feeling that the crowds would provide good cover for their conversation.

Old Song first downed a cup of wine before declaring boldly, “I’ll say it now, great celestial. Even if you were t’pay me a thousand taels, I still won’t give up my darlin’! I spent half my life lookin’ for a wifey and now that I’ve finally found her, she’s as good as mine, you hear?”

It was a bold declaration for any man, to say nothing of an ordinary mine worker challenging a Middle Realms cultivator. Mo Yixuan could even sense a few gazes shift their way in curiosity, but he was too incredulous to pay them any mind.

His...darling?

It only took a few seconds for him to connect the dots, upon which his face darkened. First Su Shimeng, now Old Song. Was something wrong with the water here in Jiangnan? Why did everyone think he was romantically interested in someone else?!

“We’re not here to talk about the living,” he muttered back darkly.

Old Song felt like he had a stroke. “My darlin’s dead?!”

“It’s not about your love life either!” Mo Yixuan slammed his hand against the table, causing the wine jug and cup to clatter noisily. More stares drifted their way.

There was a saying called “hiding in plain sight,” but Mo Yixuan now deeply regretted not asking for a private booth instead. He quickly conjured up a sound barrier to cut the background noise before taking a deep breath.

“One week ago, you encountered a spirit making trouble at the jade mines,” he said, “I want you to tell me what you saw and felt in detail.”

Old Song immediately raised his hackles. “It’s bad luck talkin’ bout shades and spirits on the Ghost Festival,” he hissed back. “I’ve—I’ve already told Lady Bai my tale, haven’t I?”

“I’d like to hear about it from you in person,” Mo Yixuan stressed. “I’m here to deal with the spirit in question so it doesn’t bother you workers again.”

“Eh, so you’re not the Su Clan’s future son-in-law?” Old Song couldn’t resist asking.

“No!”

Old Song was privately relieved. If this handsome cultivator wasn’t marrying into the family soon, then there was no way his darlin’ would see him in the future and get distracted by his looks. As for the misunderstanding they had earlier—well! It was normal for a guy to be protective about his future wifey before they tied the knot. He was man enough to let it go and confident Mo Yixuan wouldn’t hold it against him either.

“Right then, I’ll do my best. I reckon it was an abandoned babe by the way I remember it cryin—”

“Hold it,” Mo Yixuan suddenly interrupted. “What abandoned baby?”

“The spirit I saw,” Old Song explained. “Isn’t that what you wanted to know?”

“It wasn’t a ghost girl?” Mo Yixuan asked. “Pretty in a pink dress, age about her teens?”

“No, twas nothin’ more than a child in swaddlin’ clothes,” Old Song insisted, “Nearly had me too, I tell ya, if it wasn’t for young Fang holding me back!”

—

Footnotes:

Old Lady Meng (孟婆) - also known as Meng Po, she’s the staple of most Chinese novels involving the Netherworld and traditionally acts as the Goddess of Forgetfulness, feeding souls soup to help them forget their previous lives before reincarnation.

Jiangnan (江南) - literally “south of the river,” this refers to areas in China south of the Yangtze and is traditionally known for its wealth, culture, and development. 

Song Gehao (宋戈皓) - Ge is a type of dagger-axe with a long handle and horizontal blade, Hao is white, bright, luminous.