Master, This Poor Disciple Died Again Today

The chirping of birds roused him from his slumber. Outside his window, red and yellow leaves swayed with the wind, colored in the brilliant shades of autumn. A cool breeze, not yet cold, shifted through the gaps in the door and the paper window.

A hand nudged his shoulder. Hui shifted slowly, eyes half-shut. “Ten… ten more minutes.”

“Are you awake?” a male voice asked.

Hui startled upright, swinging his legs out of bed. Oh shit, dad’s home! “Up, I’m up.”

Black crashed into his vision. His head bobbled, light as air. He staggered.

A hand caught him. “Careful.”

That’s… not dad’s voice. He shook his head, waiting for his vision to return. Blinking, he made out white robes, dark hair, a white jade crown sitting at the crown of the man’s head. What the hell? Who is… Master, that’s Master. Weiheng Wu.

Hui rubbed his face and sat back down, hanging his head. Everything hurts. He drew at his robes, peeking under them.

Pale scars stared back at him, crisscrossing his flesh. He rubbed a finger over the closest one, feeling its raised edges. Right. The fight.

Chang Bolin… He shook his head. He couldn’t be allowed to live. I had to put him down.

Memories filtered back, slipping around the pain. He scrubbed his face. That girl… who was she? Not Xixing, for sure. Not elder sister Mei either, she’s softer.

At last, something came through: the flash of pink in the pavilion, high above the arena. Lan Taijian’s inheriting disciple. Why does she feel so familiar, then? Why save me?

Sitting beside him, Weiheng Wu held out a shallow dish. A thick, black fluid clung to its sides. “Drink it.”

The acidic smell tingled in his nose. Hui drew back. “I—I’m fine.”

“Your organs and meridians were damaged in the fight. Drink it, or be crippled.”

Pulling a face, Hui took the dish and knocked it back. He swallowed it in one go. Even then, the bitterness bit his tongue and burned in his throat.

Heat settled in his stomach. Without any assistance, the fluid rushed through him. He felt it rage through his body, aggressively mending whatever hurts he had.

Wiping his mouth, he grimaced. “What happened to a spoonful of sugar?”

His master tipped his head. “Do you not like the medicine?”

“No, no, of course I like the medicine! It, it just, the taste is a little… much.”

Weiheng Wu looked at the dish. “I’ll consider it next time.”

Next time? Glancing at him from the corner of his eyes, Hui asked,“Did… did Master brew this medicine?”

Weiheng Wu nodded.

Gratefulness overtook Hui. Master would do that for me? Ah, the first time as well, was that Master's medicine? It feels good to have someone care for--

A strange feeling twisted in Hui’s guts. He leaned forward, pressing a hand to his stomach. A thought suddenly struck him. “Er… did Master… follow a recipe?”

“A recipe? What would I need that for?” Weiheng Wu asked.

“Ah… that’s what I thought,” Hui said, smiling. His guts wrenched again. He dug his nails in, clutching on for dear life. "Mmm, and last time, when I had a fever..."

"That? Simple qi-calming medicine. I fetched some from Cauldron Peak. No, this time, your body was in dire straits, so I took things into my own hands. I had high hopes that the complexity of the task would challenge me, but medicine brewing is quite simple. It was easy enough to craft a new medicine," Weiheng Wu replied, waving his hand dismissively.

"Ah." Hui's smile, and his stomach, trembled. Master, is this small disciple your guinea pig? Could I please opt out of this study?

Weiheng Wu stood, folding his hands into his sleeves. “I understand you’ve been causing trouble recently. As your master, I must take responsibility for you, so this puts me in a difficult place.”

Another gurgle. He hunched over, hugging his gut. Hold on. Hold on, Hui. As fast as he could manage, he ducked his head a short bow and said, “This disciple hears and obeys, Master. Thank you for your valuable insight, Master.”

Weiheng Wu snorted. “I wouldn’t mind so much, but Sect Master Lan sat outside my cave and sang until I finally left seclusion, and I can’t bear anything interrupting my cultivation. Therefore, until I break through to the sixth realm, you need to lay low.”

Sang? Huh? His guts twisted, and Hui paled. No, I don’t care. It’s not that important.

“As Master wishes. Whatever you say.” Hui stood and bowed, backing through the door to the hut. A powerful lurch emanated from his guts, the contents searching to flee.

Weiheng Wu followed him out. “Thus, I have decided. The safest place to put you… is a secret realm.”

“Disciple is delighted, Master. Could you, er, I, I need a moment,” Hui mumbled, backing away. A bubble of gas escaped his control and slipped out with a distinctive brrt. A foul scent clouded the air.

Weiheng Wu’s brows furrowed. He looked around, confused. After a moment, he shook his head. “A secret realm is opening nearby. If we make haste, we should arrive before it closes.”

“But, uh, could we take a powder break first?” Hui tried.

“A powder break?" His brows crinkled, a total lack of comprehension passing over his face. "When we arrive.” Weiheng Wu wandered over and reached for Hui, sword unsheathing at the same moment.

Oh, right, Master's been a cultivator for centuries, and he's a genius that learned to cultivate at breakneck speeds! Does he even remember what restrooms are? Even I wouldn't need one, except... His guts twisted painfully. Hui grimaced and flinched away. “Master, I, I don’t think—”

Weiheng Wu grabbed him around the waist and pulled him onto the sword.

“Master—” Hui’s face twisted in pain. Momentary relief flashed past, only to sink into despair.

Weiheng Wu frowned. “What is that smell?”

“My pride as a human being fleeing my body,” Hui muttered.

Looking down at him, Weiheng Wu startled, then dropped Hui. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Hui gave him a despairing look. “Master…”

--

Dressed in a clean set of white robes, stomach no longer gurgling, Hui fixed his hems and rejoined his master.

“Are you… finished?” Weiheng Wu asked.

“It’s your medicine, Master, you tell me,” Hui replied, smiling.

Weiheng Wu blinked at him.

Ah! I didn’t mean to say that out loud. He coughed.“Haha, I mean, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.” He dipped his head in a bow.

“Then, let’s hurry.” Weiheng Wu stepped on his sword again and held his hand out to Hui.

A secret realm. How exciting! I can’t believe I get to enter one already! I wonder what I’ll find? Money? A secret technique, long lost and buried? A treasured sword? Grinning, Hui took Weiheng Wu’s hand and jumped up onto the sword.

With a flick of his sleeve, Weiheng Wu flew into the sky. A flap of robe caught Hui in the face, and he fought it down, shaking his hair out against the wind. Weiheng Wu pushed the sword faster yet. Hui hid behind his master, forced to huddle down on the sword, out of the force of the wind. He squinted ahead, desperate to look cool despite knowing it was hopeless.

I really need to learn how to fly on a sword!

--

They burst across the sky, a single bolt of light high above the mortals below. Hui clung to his master’s back, eyes squeezed shut. When the wind pressure let up, he hovered above a group of other cultivators. Dressed in green, their hair bound into buns, they stared up at Hui in his blue and Weiheng Wu in his white.

One of the cultivators hopped on her sword and flew into the sky toward them. “Welcome, Weiheng Wu. To what does the Mysterious Heavenly Forest Sect owe the honor?”

Distracted, Weiheng Wu glanced at her. “This secret realm is about to open, no?”

An uncomfortable feeling welled up in Hui’s gut. He leaned in and whispered to Weiheng Wu, “Er, Master, is this… this is our sect’s secret realm, right?”

Weiheng Wu glanced back at him and said nothing.

Coldness welled up from within Hui. Oh, shit. Master…

The female cultivator frowned and crossed her arms. “This is Mysterious Heavenly Forest Sect’s land. Leave, now, or else.”

He gave her a slow, appraising look, then nodded. “You couldn’t make me leave.”

Hui jolted. Master’s pulling aggro again. He leaned around Weiheng Wu and smiled, looking up at his master.“Master, isn’t it better if we leave? This secret realm doesn’t belong to us. We should go, quietly.”

“A secret realm is a natural resource. It cannot belong to any man, nor woman,” Weiheng Wu said, his eyes locked on a distant place, hands folded into his sleeves.

Hui facepalmed. Now is not the time to get philosophical, Master! Besides, what the hell is with that argument? Are you saying no one can own property? Water is a natural resource. Can no one can own a glass of water?

“Oh? Is that your disciple?” the woman asked. She narrowed her eyes at Hui, and a terrible pressure slammed into him, full of sharp anger. Hui felt a sword pierce him, the now-familiar sharp sensation pushing through his skin.

Oh no, not again.

Hui fell to his knees. Before he could fall off the sword, Weiheng Wu caught him by the back of the collar and hauled him upright, negating the woman’s pressure. The weight lifted off Hui’s shoulders, and at the same time, pain and the sharpness vanished.

Hui patted down his chest, searching for blood. Nothing?

“It’s only sword intent,” Weiheng Wu replied, eyes locked on the woman. He nodded at her politely. “You cannot harm my disciple with me here, either, nor will my protecting him impede me in any way. Please, enough.”

She scowled. “Please leave. This is the entrance to our sect’s secret realm.”

Weiheng Wu nodded. He turned to Hui. “See, everyone knows how to be polite. If they’re reluctant to use their skills, you must be firm.”

“Th-thank you, Master,” Hui said. Sweat broke out down his back. Despite Weiheng Wu protecting him from the woman’s pressure, he still felt her killing intent sizzle against his skin. Oh no, I knew it. Master’s pissed at me for causing trouble, seriously pissed. This is my punishment, isn’t it? I’m going to die. I’m going to die for real, this time.

Weiheng Wu waved his hand. “In any case. Hui, enter the secret realm. It should keep you out of trouble for at least a month. When you emerge, I’ll be there to pick you up. Don’t worry.”

Master, what about when I’m in the secret realm? I’m worried!

“You will not enter our secret realm. We won’t allow it,” the woman insisted. Behind her, another two cultivators rose into the sky, hovering on their weapons. One rode a staff, while another rode a saber, the blade broad and sharp.

Weiheng Wu leaned in. “You’re interested in death qi?”

Hui looked at him, startled. “How…?” Did he hear me discuss it with Xixing? How good are Master’s ears? Fifth stage cultivators are no joke!

Wait, then who else heard me? A chill ran down his spine. Hui rubbed his shoulders, suddenly uncomfortable.

“This is the best realm to learn about it.”

“Oh, really?” Hui asked. He peered down at the cultivators below, momentarily forgetting his fear. Death qi seems to be a bit of a taboo topic, from Xixing’s description. If I don’t enter here, how hard will it be for me to find death qi again? I can’t imagine that Starbound Sect has a source of it. Actually, I’m kind of afraid to admit I’m interested in it, especially after I forced a fellow disciple to have a qi deviation. To be fair, he deserved it, but still. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up labeled a demonic cultivator.

“Mhm.” Weiheng Wu hefted him by the back of his collar.

Hui snapped back to reality. He struggled, twisting against his master’s hold. “Master, wait, wait, hold up. This isn’t ours, we really shouldn’t—”

Between them and the cultivators on the ground, a black gash opened in the sky. The three green-robed cultivators formed up, standing between them and the gash.

Weiheng Wu threw Hui.

Earth and sky streaked back. Headfirst, Hui hurtled at the pitch-black gash, unable to see anything past it. The force of his passage blew the three cultivators’ formation apart, and the three of them scattered to the winds, one hurtling toward the ground, another toward the sky, another spinning off into the distance. The black gash loomed. He braced himself, ready to slam into the black, but instead, he flew into it.

“After him! Kill the trespasser!” the female cultivator on the sword shouted, still spinning gently.

Green-clad cultivators leapt up from the ground and rushed toward Hui and the black gash.

Master, why…? Hui despaired, as the world faded away behind him.

In the depths of the gash, reality shimmered. His body, his vision, everything shuddered. He gasped and bit back the urge to vomit as everything scrambled around him, his insides, his outsides, all of them twisting over one another.

He tried to draw breath, but there was no air. Tried to move, to find he had no body. Hui saw things he couldn’t comprehend, shapes beyond his universe.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Please, let it end!

Cold wind streaked past him. Gravity took hold, dragging him toward the earth. Hui opened his eyes seconds before he plopped to the ground. He scrambled and barely caught himself on his hands and knees, skidding over the pebbled ground. A gritty, dry earth in a dead gray slid out from under his palms. Icy wind blew, fluttering through his hair and robes. Dark, flat rocks about the size of a man jutted upright out of the slate gray earth.

Footsteps scraped over the dirt. Ragged robes brushed the ground.

Hui looked up, already smiling. “Haha, it’s all a misunderst… huh?”

Pale bodies. Eyes all white, hair dull, lips dry and cracked. Arms stiff, mouths drooling, they shambled for him.

Hui’s eyes went wide. He jolted, then fell back, instinctively killing his qi. Undead? Master, are you trying to kill this poor disciple?