Young Master Xian Sure Has Changed

I stare at myself in the gold-framed full-length mirror of my bedroom, as Meng Yi finishes dressing me in fine, blue (no doubt, stupidly expensive) silky robes.

You know, an asshole he may be, but Xian Qigang is an asshole whose chromosomes are arranged like a… a thing with impeccable arrangement.

Like, goddamn, I look like a young Jet Li or something. Or, like one of those K-drama pretty boys.

Hair like strands of black-dyed silk, deep, dark eyes, pink, pouty lips, perfect jawline… I’d fuck me.

Compared to this, the old me was an orangutan, and it’s insane to think that someone like Xian Qigang could have had these looks, and then also had wealth, status, and raw, undeniable power in the form of cultivation.

This world really is an unfair place. Much more so than my old one.

“You know, back in my old world, if a rich or important person got too uppity, you could just punch them in the face. Or, convince a lot of other people they’ve oppressed to rise up and take them down, if they have like soldiers, or something,” I say, and Meng Yi pauses in her final arrangements of my ridiculously long hair to pay attention to me.

“You can’t do that here though,” I continue, my idle thought growing into something deeper, “cultivation changes everything. In my old world, women have been oppressed for pretty much all of our history just because men are a little stronger. And even when technology made that strength largely irrelevant, women still had to fight and claw for every bit of freedom they got.

“Your world will never have that. No amount of science can make a person’s ability to punch away a mountain irrelevant. You will never have democracy. You will probably never even have free speech. Most of the privileges so many of us took for granted in my world are forever inaccessible to yours, and all because here the gap between those with power and those without it is like the difference between a mountain and an ant.”

Our eyes meet in the mirror, and Meng Yi and I stare at each other for a long time.

Finally, she says; “It is the duty of those with power to wield it responsibly. A powerful man told me that.” Then she smiles at me, and goes back to finishing up with my hair.

—❈—

Silver Springs reminds me of the town I spent most of my (previous) life in; sizeable enough in population to not really count as a ‘small town’, but far enough off the beaten path that it still somehow maintains that small town-ness of small towns.

That’s pretty much where the similarities end though, because the town I spent most of my old life in had electricity, zero cultivators, and only like ten Chinese people.

The differences between only add to the beauty and exoticness of Silver Springs though, and it is beautiful.

The Xian manor (or whatever it’s called) sits atop a hilltop, or a small mountain peak, I suppose, seeing as all of Silver Springs is located in the outskirts of the range of mountains called The Bloody Fangs (named thus, I understand, for the red peaks of the fang shaped mountains that litter the region).

Anyway, with the elevated view from the manor, it’s easy to see much of Silver Springs sprawled out, rolling with the terrain out into the horizon.

It is a view that I can catch, and have caught, from my bedroom balcony, but this is the first time I’m doing more than see it from afar.

The walk down to the town takes almost an hour, and even before we enter the town proper, I see that Meng Yi had been on the money about the Fan sisters, Si and Hai, when she’d said that within an hour all of Silver Springs would have heard of my new attitude, because, even though they’re all trying to pretend otherwise, everyone and their mother has their eyes on me.

…Although, maybe that’s less because they’re watching for anything different about me, and more because they’re watching for more of the same, I think, adjusting my outlook as I keep noticing people bow and dart way too far out of my path for it to be simple politeness or deference.

The plan for today is simple; introduce Xian Qigang 2.0 to the public.

For that, all we need to do is go around town, interact with people, and let them form their own conclusions based on all available information.

It's why my new noble rank cultivation is so integral to the plan.

If Xian Qigang had simply hidden inside for a week or two, then popped out saying that he’d found enlightenment or whatever, while acting like a brain damaged stranger… that raises a lot of eyebrows.

Eyebrows of people who might consider it in their best interest to reach out to the Xian family about the strange development with their scion.

But, stepping out, acting like a brain damaged stranger and two ranks higher in cultivation, well, who can argue against enlightenment then?

Since, regardless of our intent, we can’t exactly go parading me around town like a peacock, Meng Yi has decided that grabbing breakfast at a popular restaurant would be best.

After that, we could visit a few stores and then go home for the day.

I’m not opposed to the plan. In fact, I kind of like it… right until I pick a restaurant.

About an hour after entering town (and have everyone simultaneously gawk at and avoid me), we reach a busy street filled with people in fine clothes, most of whom I can sense enough qi in to know they have to be cultivators.

The street has many fancy shops in it, and when I point at a big, busy restaurant, suggesting that we go there, Meng Yi gives me a complicated but meaningful look.

“I think a different establishment will be more partial to Young Master’s presence,” she says, telling me everything I need to know.

I look back to the restaurant with new eyes, wondering what I (or rather he) must have done to have him blacklisted in a way that deserves such gravity from Meng Yi.

As though she’s privy to my thoughts, a phenomenon that I’m steadily getting used to, Meng Yi says; “Do you remember Chang and Ju?”

The names take me a moment to place, but as soon as I do, everything makes sense.

Chang and Ju are the boy and girl I read about in his diary; the boy he crippled and the girl he raped in front of the boy he crippled.

Right, I’m guessing either the boy’s or the girl’s family owns that restaurant then.

Xian Qigang, you piece of pond loving scum.

Wherever you are I hope it’s hell for you.

An older man who looks to be in his sixties walks out of the restaurant then, followed by three people, two women who look in their forties, and a young man about my age.

Their qi says they’re all cultivators, but it has that lightness to its quality that I’ve come to suspect is the sign of a beast rank cultivation.

That’s not the important thing though, the important thing is the raw hatred that they’re all staring at me with.

The street takes notice immediately, and while some stop to watch, others look like they’re preparing to take off.

“Chang or Ju?” I ask Meng Yi quietly, knowing she’ll understand.

“Chang’s family are farmers,” she replies.

I sigh. This is the girl’s family then.

Contemplating how best to handle this, I’m two seconds away from just saying fuck it and going down on my knees to beg for their forgiveness, when a voice calls out; “Senior Brother Xian.”

Senior brother? What the hell?

I turn to see the speaker, not missing how Meng Yi’s face curls in displeasure at their arrival.

My inquiry reveals a tall (and there’s no polite way to say this), rat-faced man walking towards us.

He heads a pack of three, the two other men tagging behind him, one short and round in the middle, the other much too tall and much too thin.

All three men are cultivators, but their qi signatures as incredibly weak, weaker even than Meng Yi’s. These men are in the Ignition phase, and I don’t think any of them are even past the second layer of it.

As the men reach us, I feel my lips curling in distaste. Not because they smell, or anything like that, but because, despite not knowing these men from Adam, I can already see them for what they are; they’re parasites. The kind that attach themselves to men like Xian Qigang, so they can feed off the scraps of his ego.

The leader of the group speaks first, mouth stretched into a too wide smile; “Ah, Senior Brother. How amazing. We heard about your good fortune, but you were already in closed door cultivation before we could—”

“What’s your name?” I cut him off.

The man pauses, and he and his companions share a glance.

His smile returns after a moment. “Ah, Senior Brother, I know your enlightenment left its mark, but to not even remember the name of your Junior—”

I don’t have the energy for this.

“How long have they kissed my ass?” I ask Meng Yi.

“From the very beginning,” she says, looking at the men like they’re something gross she stepped in. And while that helps me make up my mind, it’s the look that the trio, but their spokesperson especially, shoots back at her that really does it.

I don’t even want to know what’s going through his mind right now.

“And what’s his name?” I ask Meng Yi.

“Liu Li, Young Master.”

I run the name through my mind. Just like I thought, I’ve never heard it before.

Liu Li begins to speak, but I talk over him.

“You know there’s no mention of you in my journal?”

He blinks, confused.

Good. A confused Liu is a silent Liu.

“There are over two hundred entries in there, and you’ve followed me around for years, yet your name doesn’t come up even once,” I say. “Why do you think that is?”

“S-senior Brother Xian, I don’t understand,” he says.

“I don’t like you,” I say slowly, like he’s an idiot. “You have a… what’s the word?”

“Rat’s face,” Meng Yi helpfully supplies.

The three men and I stare at her.

“Not really what I was thinking of, but she’s right,” I say, “you do have a rat’s face.

“Well, it’s official, I don’t like your rat face. Sod off.”

Liu Li splutters. “B-but, Senior Brother! You can’t—”

“Are you telling Young Master Xian what he can and can’t do?” Meng Yi asks with dangerous calm.

You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s enjoying this.

Feeding off her energy, I put a little bit of danger in my tone and say; “Really? Hmm. He shouldn’t. I don’t think I like that.”

Liu Li looks between the both of us, eyes wide, his bookends behind him looking like they’re considering backing away very slowly.

“Senior Brother, this isn’t…” Liu Li tries again. “It’s her.” He points at Meng Yi. “This bitch is the one taking advantage of you. She’s poisoning your mind against us.”

Having found someone to shield himself with, Liu Li seems to find his bravery.

“This whore is aiming above her station, Senior Brother, you need to teach this bitch her place. She—”

I don’t know what causes it…

No, that’s untrue, I do know what causes it. I just don’t know how, nor do I intend for it to happen.

Hearing Liu Li talk, I feel a strong desire for him to shut up, and from deep within my mind, I hear it.

It sounds like a staticky transmission from a radio submerged underwater.

W͚̙̳ͬ̆̒̀ẽ͓͈̮͙̟͘í͍͈͕ͮͨ́̚g̼̰̰̠̱̥̱͔̾̆̆͘ḥ͕͖̿ͮ̈́̑͞ṫ̸̬͉͙͖̱̯̗͊̀ ͚̼͎̫͖͂̆̄̂͞o̅҉̼̬̯̘f̳̬̝ͣ͆͟ ͍̞̝̼̒̐ͣ̈͡Ṱ͓̈̀h̸̥̰͙̪̤̃̂̔e̙̙̦͛̃̏̍̀ ̢̲̘ͧḘ̠̥̠͊̽ͥ͝m̵̲̼̦̪̫̥ͣͅp̞͕̂ͪ͠e̢̞̼̹͕̺̗̊r̢̗͕̫̯͈͎̱̼͌̋͐o̲͉͚̜̬̳͎ͪͦ͗ͨ́r̢̛̜̭̖͈̠͗̓̐̔̒̑̔'̴͙̮͉̖̦̱̀s̺͉̗͚̥͚̪ͭͭ͜ ̵̹̪̞͓̭͓̐̾̊̀W͔̜̦̦̩̜̝ͮͯͨ͡i͓͔͎̳͍̣ͪ̓́̿̀ļ̹̦̬̳̟͙͈͓ͧl̵̫̗̰͉̎͂͆

The sun within my chest flares, and, like gravity suddenly quintuples, Liu Li and his nameless bookends slam to their hands and knees on the cobbled street.

Shock ripples across the street.

I had the interest of our impromptu audience before, but now, I have their undivided attention.

Liu Li looks up at me from the ground, body trembling and face white as a sheet.

I’m not much better.

What the hell just happened!?

Meng Yi takes my hand.

“Come, Young Master,” she says, leading me away. “Breakfast awaits.”

The crowd watches us leave, stepping aside long before—and much farther than—they need to.

I look back and see Liu Li and the other two still on the ground, pale and shaking, then I look to Ju’s family at their restaurant.

My eyes meets the old man’s.

He looks away.

I squeeze Meng Yi’s hand in mine, and I can’t quantify my relief and gratitude when she squeezes back.