I Wish You Were Never Reborn

Shay was worried one of her aunts would answer the intercom. (Why did all her aunts suck?)

Thankfully, though, a random guard came out to greet her. When she told him who she was, he looked like he ate a mouth full of crap. But he still passed on her message to Grandpa Wei, so that was fine.

After that, it took less than 20 minutes to get into his office.

...It was an oddly Western office, sprinkled with Chinese elements instead of the other way around.

Grandpa sat at an overly-large, black-reddish desk, his back was to a wall. Two lion statuettes, carved out of ivory, guarded the desk surface. (Ugh. It was probably actual ivory.)

The feng shui in the office was pretty good. Though when Shay sat down, the light from the side-windows shone in her eyes.

Probably intentional.

Grandpa wore a black Chinese business suit, the zhongshan? --with its big, functional pockets far more... prominent than the modern suits worn by Tyvan, Bishop, or Rook.

And he was big... 偉 big.

He still looked fit, too, especially for an older guy. Grandpa’s grew his white beard long and pointy and his eyebrows bushy and voluminous... maybe to make him look as old as he actually was.

Shay wore her school uniform.

It was the most professional thing she owned. Grandpa Wei knew her financial situation, so she didn’t need to try to impress him even if she did have the money.

She also tied her hair into pigtails like usual, but she used fancy red ribbons to look extra-Chinese. With her budget, that was the best she could do.

Chinese-ity (Chinese-dom?) was important, especially for folks from the older generation. Cold, carbonated drinks are evil. Return to tea.

Even though Grandpa was a big, boss-man of a modern company and they were in his modern-ish office, there was no computer in sight. Oh, there was a calculator, though-- the kind with big, fat buttons. At least it wasn’t an abacus.

Ah. There was one on a wall shelf. Classic.

After a few short minutes, Grandpa ordered his secretary and that random guard away... finally leaving Shay alone with him... for the first time... ever, maybe?

“You’re a brave girl, Yan Xue,” he said.

His voice was still strong and booming. It was a martial artist’s voice, mature and powerful. He stroked his white beard in thought (like she was absolutely expecting him to do.)

He could 100% be an old mentor character in a wuxia film. Ah, no. He looked more like the cunning, musclebound antagonist? Very cool.

“What do you hope to gain by providing information about the Arrow Group?” he asked.

Shay looked aside-- which was probably suspicious of her.

She wasn’t exactly scared of her grandfather.

She just... didn’t have anything to lose. Other members of the Song family needed Grandpa’s money to fuel their lifestyles or relied on his influence for scholarships or business opportunities.

Everyone else was terrified of Grandpa Wei.

He was physically imposing. His presence filled the room-- and in a different way that Tyvan did. Even his sitting posture seemed to scream ‘Why are you wasting my time when you could be training?!’

But... after dealing with two different life-or-death situations... and maybe a little help from her lack of sleep, Shay just didn’t care.

“Can I... just say what I actually mean, Grandfather?” she asked.

Grandpa Wei frowned, his big bushy eyebrows pushing together to form one long, fuzzy caterpillar.

It was actually kinda cute.

“If you’re here to ask for a handout," he said, “I... can’t say I’d be disappointed. I know that after Yan Gao married that punk from the Lu family--”

Shay raised her hand, and his words slowly trailed off.

“...What is it?” he asked.

“I want to learn martial arts.”

Grandpa Wei’s mouth twitched, “You what?”

Shay smiled politely.

Grandpa steepled his fingers and leaned forward. “Anything else?”

“And after I learn martial arts... I want to learn how to cultivate.”

That answer seemed to be effective. Grandpa Wei sat up-- almost stood up. Then he composed himself, a deep grimace setting into his face.

“How... how do you know about that?”

“I read books, Grandpa,” Shay said, probably a little too disrespectfully-- “And I know our Song family is not below the Zhang family.”

Wei nodded quietly...

Then, he pressed the button on his desk, speaking into the intercom.

“Bring us some tea.”

#...

Song Wei stroked his beard in thought.

The appearance of his granddaughter, Yan Xue, was completely out of his expectations.

Even if she hadn’t promised news about the Zhang family, he would have considered meeting with her just out of curiosity.

Her appearance, drinking tea, still reminded him of the child he once saw, long ago: the toddling daughter of the late Yan Bai.

--or perhaps it was Yan Bai, herself, he was recalling?

He only had so many family members he could feasibly pay attention to. And there were so few worth his attention-- with even less remaining after recent events.

Yan Xue told him she discovered the Zhang family’s pill forges at an abandoned construction site. She even described the pill they made, going as far as calling it a ‘Chi Burst Pill.’

It wasn’t a pill he cared for. The side-effects of a low-to-mid grade burst pill had lasting consequences to a cultivator’s chi. Those weren’t things a true martial artist like himself would rely on.

Considering that the Zhang family lacked a strong backing in alchemy, Wei was tempted to have Yan Xue thrown out for spreading fantastical lies.

However... that was an uncomfortably fitting explanation for the trials and tribulations the Sun group had been suffering for the past two months.

Mysterious disappearances.

Mysterious deaths that left behind mangled corpses, bereft of blood.

Even in the distant past, the Zhang family had never been so much stronger than their Song family.

Something had changed. Something had upset the status quo. Whatever the Zhang family had gotten ahold of... it wasn’t a mere burst pill. But the creation of a forbidden pill was the most likely explanation he’d heard thus far.

Or perhaps... it was all a trick?

Could Yan Xue be an assassin?

Wei observed her once more...

Glancing at her physique, she was basically trained, but not to the extent she could be called a martial artist.

Not an inkling of hostile intent manifested in that child’s eyes... but the strength of her spirit was suspicious.

Those eyes...

She appeared to be exhausted... but there was a fire that burned in her soul that he found intriguing. Yan Xue met his gaze in a manner that a lesser man would find disrespectful.

She wore the clothes of an archetypical high schooler. If that was fabricated, the attention to detail was astounding. With his keenly trained sight, he saw holes and tears repaired carefully enough to pass mundane scrutiny.

If Yan Xue was an assassin, she was an immaculate professional.

Hmph. No dynasty lasted forever. And he could take some pride in being ended by his own bloodline.

It was a shame, though. Without him at the head of the Sun Group, the family name and its wealth would fade into ruin within months rather than years or decades.

Such was the testament of his sons and grandsons.

He recalled something his business partners used to tell him... something that he heard less and less over the years.

‘A majestic tiger did not sire dogs.’

But left unstated: If his sons were no better than dogs... what did that make him?

“Grandfather?” Xue said, “Should I pour you more tea?”

Wei looked down at the tea cup in his hand. Empty.

He placed it aside and cleared his throat.

--but before he spoke, Xue immediately stood up and started refilling his cup.

Her movements lacked a sense of decorum... but he was not so petty to reject her eagerness to give him face.

“There’s no issue in providing martial arts training,” he said.

He strongly believed in the basic forms taught by their sect. Even pregnant mothers or children could benefit from learning them. Of course, he wouldn’t charge Yan Xue any money for the lessons. That was the least he could do.

“I don’t want to just be an outer disciple, though,” Xue said. “What’s the requirement to be a direct disciple?”

Wei spit out his hot tea.

It misted in the air, with Yan Xue smiling awkwardly.

“Should I go ask for a towel?”

A direct disciple? She wasn’t even asking to an inner sect disciple-- she was asking to be taught personally??

“Direct disciplehood?!” Wei said, “That’s something reserved for my direct descendants!!”

“Are you training anyone right now?” Xue asked.

“No!” Wei shouted.

He didn’t know why he shouted.

--no, he did know why. How dare that brat speak so arrogantly?!

“You! You’d need merits and achievements to be a direct disciple!” Wei said, “I know nothing about you!”

“Then I’ll get them,” Xue grinned, “Just tell me what I have to do.”

Wei took a grumbling breath and rubbed his glabella. “It’s... not that easy.”

“It is that easy,” she replied. “Even the most complicated process can be broken down into steps, Grandpa.”

Wei crumpled his brows. Maybe she really was an assassin? And if she didn’t bring any weapons or hired hitmen, then she was wielding words to inflict a state of qi deviation.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Xue said confidently. “I’m not involved in any family politics. My mom passed away. My dad’s a cop in another city. None of my aunts and uncles have anything to do with me.”

She stood up and saluted.

Who taught her that?

“So what I’m trying to say is... if you establish a connection with me, I can be the person you trust the most out of the younger generation!”