“A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.” - Laozi 6??-531 BC

“Really?” the old man exclaimed. “What do you have in mind young man?”

“I’m not sure how to say this, but I think I can fly us out,” the boy replied, feeling a bit embarrassed. He didn’t want to belittle the old man, but the ‘problem’ that the old man had stated wasn’t really a problem from the boy’s perspective. Compared to being trapped in a powerful array, their current situation seemed like a joke.

“Bwahahahaha. You want me to believe you’re an advanced Temporal Heaven cultivator?” laughed the old man. “I like you even more now, boy. Cracking a joke in a situation like this shows you haven't lost your head. Maybe if we work together, we can find a way,” said the old man with renewed vigor.

The boy frowned slightly, surprised by the old man’s response. He hadn't pegged the man for someone who would judge others based on their appearances. “Maybe I'm mistaken about him, or it's possible he really believes someone my age can’t have my level of cultivation,” the boy pondered. Through their exchange, he realized there was much about the world’s customs and beliefs he had yet to learn. Showing his cards carelessly might get him into trouble in the future.

“Anyways, I think I need to sit down for a bit,” the old man grumbled as he found a spot by the wall to lean his back. “So, you don't really remember your name or anything at all?” the old man asked, eyeing the boy critically.

The boy shook his head.

“I don’t mean to intrude. Your business is your own, so you’re not obligated to tell me anything,” the old man spoke. “I just thought it was kind of weird how you showed up out of nowhere wearing those strange clothes. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you’re a young noble who got lost while using a teleportation array. Though I’m not sure how it could cause amnesia…,” he trailed off.

The boy knew that the old man didn't buy his amnesia excuse, not that the boy could blame him since he had purposefully left out a lot of details. “Maybe it's better to conform to his guesses for now,” the boy decided.

“I have no reason to lie about my lack of memories, sir. But what you said sounds plausible. Where should I begin to look?” the boy questioned.

“Ah. Therein lies the problem. We’re a long way from the nearest town, Fu Luo. You’ll find a minor branch of the White Jade Merchant Guild there that deals in information and can relay messages,” the old man replied. “Also, I apologize for my manners earlier. It's just that I haven't acquainted myself with proper folk in a while. Rather than being called ‘boy,’ why don't you come up with a temporary alias for now?”

The boy’s face brightened at the prospect of owning a name. There hadn’t been a need for one until now. “Since you suggested the idea, I'm guessing you have something in mind,” said the boy.

The old man smiled. “Why, as a matter of fact, I do. Based on my first impression of you, I'd like to recommend the name, Jin Long, in reference to the golden dragon on your hanfu.” The old man’s face radiated with pride that made it difficult for the boy to reject him. Furthermore, the boy didn’t feel any particular aversion to the name.

“Alright. It sounds good. I will call myself ‘Jin Long’ for now,” the boy agreed.

“Perfect! By the way, I don’t think I have properly introduced myself. I am Fang Mo, but you may just call me Fang. It is a pleasure to meet you. If we die here, I’m glad you’re here to keep company at least,” Fang said, cupping his left fist. “Now that’s settled, let’s think of a way to get out of this damned hellhole. This array bothers me.”

Fang pushed himself off the ground again and stared resolutely at the opening fifty meters above them. Jin Long didn’t want to distract Fang, but he didn’t think there was a solution better than the one he mentioned. The walls sloped awkwardly, effectively eliminating any hopes for climbing.

“Fang, I would like to show you something, but I was hoping you’d keep the secret to yourself,” Jin Long said softly. Fang, curious of the Jin Long’s request, turned his attention to the boy.

“I’m a destitute old man. You have my word, for all its worth.”

Seeing Fang’s sincerity, Jin Long started to levitate himself, eliciting a loud gasp from the older man.

“This may come as a shock to you, but I am truly capable of flying,” Jin Long explained, doing a few swirls in the air to prove his point.

Fang was completely wide-eyed. His jaw would have dropped to the ground if it could. He didn’t see the boy use any special items, and with his own qi sense, however weak, the old man had felt extreme qi fluctuations induced by the boy.

“Gods, I must be dreaming. My bo...,” Fang began, “I mean Young Master Jin Long, I sincerely apologize for ever doubting you.” Fang bowed until he started to grimace from the pain in his ankle.

“Jin Long will do. I am no young master or at least not right now, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I’d like to remain anonymous until I recover my memories at least,” said Jin Long. “But since I’ve proven my skills, may I take you up with me?”

“Of course, Youn...Jin Long!” Fang replied, nodding enthusiastically.

Jin Long increased the concentration of air qi around them and swiftly lifted them up towards the opening. The boy’s usage of qi was efficient, requiring no extraneous effort. In mere moments, they were back above the surface. The late afternoon sun beated down on them without any remorse.

Fang looked at the boy with a subtle mixture of awe, wonder, and fear, which Jin Long noticed. The boy began to worry. If he didn’t stamp out the fear that was taking root, it would likely prevent them from ever forming a genuine friendship.

This time it was Jin Long’s turn to cup his fist. “Fang, I hope you don’t mind listening to a selfish request. This younger brother, Jin Long, would like to be friends with you.”

Since Jin Long’s request wasn’t at all what Fang expected, it took a moment for the older man to process its implications. Fang blushed and smiled coldly before responding.

“I am honored that you would consider me worthy. However, the basis of a solid friendship is equality. On the one hand, you are a blessed existence, destined to achieve great things. I, on the other hand, am only a disgraced scholar living out the last of his days.”

Fang’s eloquent yet honest reply caught Jin Long off guard. His disappointment must have been obvious because Fang quickly added, “But this doesn’t mean we can’t try. In fact, I have a selfish request of my own.”

Upon hearing not all was lost, Jin Long’s mood turned for the better. “Of course, I’d be more than happy to help.”

“I have a young pupil, Wen Er, whose suffering from a severe case of cultivation deviation. I had come here to collect the herbs for her medicine,” said Fang, pointing at a straw basket sitting near the edge of the opening. “I know I have no right to ask you to fly me to the village, but any time saved getting back increases my chances of saving her.” Fang bowed extremely low. “I’m willing to do anything to save her, she’s like a daughter to me…,” Fang croaked, the look on his face personified his grief.

Touched by Fang’s affection for his student, Jin Long’s regard for man’s character improved. “I would never refuse a friend in need,” the boy replied, helping Fang straighten himself. “Since time is of the essence, let’s retrieve the basket and leave.”

With Fang’s right arm draped around the boy’s shoulders, they made their way over to the basket. Once the old man was ready, Jin Long began manipulating the air element around them to generate greater thrust. Knowing that they would be traveling fast for this trip, the boy enclosed themselves in a powerful qi barrier.

“The village is eastwards, away from the setting sun,” Fang directed. Jin Long nodded, and they shot off into the horizon. Before long, the boy glanced down at the ruins one last time. If the fates allowed it, he would like to come back one day.

The advantages of flying were quite obvious to Fang. A trip that had taken him a whole day to complete, when he had been uninjured, could be done in only a fraction of the time if they flew. The journey from the Shadow Ruins to the Village of Miao Tou was perilous because one had to trek through a small part of the uncharted Great Western Forest, home to vicious ranked beasts and exotic man-eating plants.

On his way to the ruins, Fang had braved the dangers out of sheer desperation. Yet while he was stuck in the hole, the old man realized just how stupid decision had been. The forest was a dangerous place even for a Qi Adept cultivator like him. Had he perished on the way, Wen Er would have had to suffer alone before she died.

Fang wasn’t foolish enough to believe the villagers cared for them. Wen Er, along with her deceased parents and Fang, were outsiders. For one reason or another, Wen Er’s parents and Fang had ended up settling down in the same village despite the villagers’ animosity towards non-natives. Other than a handful of open-minded individuals, Fang wouldn’t put it past the villagers to let Wen Er die if he never came back. They only tolerated the pair because he was the village healer and had his uses.

“Funny how the fates play with the lives of men. The xenophobic villagers have looked down on me for the past twenty years. Yet, today I’ve met an extraordinary individual who wants to be friends with me. A fourteen-year-old Temporal Heaven cultivator is heaven-defying. I wonder what his background is?” Fang mused, a long list of possibilities running through his mind.

The boy hid many surprises, not least of which was his monstrous cultivation. Fang had no doubt Jin Long withheld the entire truth, though that was to be expected. Everyone had their secrets, even Fang.

“Must be getting senile. There was a time I would have groveled and killed to curry favor with a Temporal Heaven cultivator,” Fang thought. He turned to look at the boy who had a smile plastered over his face, seemingly enjoying the view from their altitude. From above, everything looked peaceful, a great contrast to the horrors that existed under the canopy trees.

They touched down at the outskirts of the village at dusk. It was Fang’s idea. He would already have enough trouble explaining the boy’s presence and eccentric clothing, let alone trying to explain how they had been flying if they had been spotted. In almost anywhere else, a Temporal Heaven cultivator would have been shown great respect, but not in the Village of Miao Tou. Ignorance spawns a multitude of sins.

Although Fang wasn’t afraid that the villagers could hurt Jin Long, his priority right now was to treat Wen Er’s illness. Consequently, he wanted to minimize any potential disruptions.

As the pair made their way deeper and deeper into the village, they began attracting a crowd. In the twilight of sunset, the villagers’ faces were further distorted by the flickering torches, casting an ill-boding ambience. Fang’s heart sank. He had hoped they’d arrive without much fanfare, but the way the crowd followed and spectated suggested there was drama up ahead.

Sure enough, upon approaching his hut, a middle-aged woman in brown garbs rushed out.

“Hatukni!” she cried, running towards Fang. “Big trouble. I drop liquid medicine yesterday. No on purpose. Wambi no good. Dying!” the woman reported hysterically.

Fang’s heart sank more from the bad news. Milani was the village seamstress, one of few villagers whom Fang trusted. It was highly unlikely a diligent person like Milani would just accidentally spill the medicine intended for Wen Er. Years of political experience helped him clearly assess the situation. Fang suspected there was foul play from hostile parties.

“Don’t worry, Milani. I’m back with the Mika herbs. I will concoct the medicine right now,” Fang comforted her. Nodding to Jin Long, Fang continued to limp towards the door with the boy’s help.

It was at this moment three burly villagers blocked their path. Judging by their expressions, they didn’t seem too happy to see Fang, especially the black-bearded man in the middle.

“Hatukni, who is this intruder you bring with you?” the man spoke in the village dialect.

Fang recognized the three men in front of him. They were some of the village’s best hunters, and the man in the middle was none other than Jakabu, a highly respected hunter who also happened to hate Fang’s guts. Jakabu was the nephew of the village’s shaman whom Fang had exposed as a fraud more than once.

“Look Jakabu, I don’t want any trouble tonight. This boy has helped me survive the trip to kayamah al makubo. He is a friend, a punai,” Fang gestured at Jin Long.

Though Jakabu was primarily known for being a muscle-man, Fang knew better than to underestimate him. The man was cunning and had proven himself more than capable of eliminating his rivals. Tonight, it seemed Jakabu wanted to delay Wen Er’s treatment by stalling them.

“Hatukni, you are permitted to live here because the chief allows it. I may not agree, but I trust our chief’s decision. But you bringing a stranger to this village puts us all in danger. Look at his bewitching clothes. How do you know he isn’t a baknah in sheep’s wool,” Jakabu shouted loud enough for the crowd to hear. Jakabu was deliberately arousing the crowd with his damning speech, and it appeared to be working. Many of the spectators nodded in agreement and whispered among themselves, pointing at Jin Long.

“A baknah? This fool doesn’t even know who he’s accusing,” Fang seethed silently. ‘Baknah’ was a term the villagers used for bandits who attacked the village from time to time. Fang circulated his qi to calm himself; he couldn’t fall for Jakabu’s trap, not tonight. Wen Er’s condition couldn’t wait that long.

Fang wracked his brain for a peaceful solution.

“Fang, why do these men block our paths?” Jin Long whispered.

In the heat of the moment, Fang had completely forgotten to keep the boy updated.

“Jin Long, it appears these men don’t trust you. I tried telling them that you’re a friend, but they probably want chain you up somewhere and interrogate you. I’m not going to allow that to happen,” Fang whispered back. He said that in order to protect the villagers. Only the heavens would know the extent of the damage if Jin Long decided to unleash his wrath on the village.

“Then let them.”

“What?!” uttered Fang, who was flabbergasted by the boy’s willingness to comply.

“I’ll be fine. I suspect you want to solve this problem peacefully. That’s the easiest way to shed liability. Remember why we even rushed here in the first place,” said Jin Long in a quiet but firm tone.

Fang observed the boy with a strange twinkle in his eyes. He had yet to meet a young master or powerful cultivator who’d lower himself in front of peasants. “This boy isn’t so simple,” Fang concluded. For the first time since they’ve met, Fang realized that the boy was extraordinary for reasons other than his cultivation or background.

Fang cupped his fist. “This unworthy friend will thank you in advance. I promise I’ll get everything resolved with the village chief once I’ve cured Wen Er. In the meantime, please spare their lives,” Fang pleaded.

The boy chuckled. “I’m not one to enjoy shedding unnecessary blood. I promise you they’ll be fine.”

“What are you two conspiring, Hatukni,” asked Jakabu menacingly.

“Our punai is willing to go mashkalal, Jakabu. Isn’t this what you want,” Fang answered.

Jakabu smirked, and ordered his two companions to take Jin Long away. Seeing the boy’s thin stature, the brutes didn’t bother applying any shackles. Jakabu strode confidently next to Fang and whispered in his ear.

“The chief can’t protect you forever, Hatukni.”

Fang glared at Jakabu. In the past twenty years, he had worked hard to keep his cultivation a secret from the villagers. But today, Fang could barely keep himself from crushing the arrogant hunter. If it weren’t for Jin Long’s sacrifice, Wen Er’s urgent condition, and his own broken ankle, Fang didn’t know if he could’ve kept calm throughout this ordeal.

After the hunters left with Jin Long, the crowd began to dissipate. Fang asked Milani to help him through the door.

Wen Er was lying on the table in the main room. Seeing the vitality sapped out of the normally energetic girl pained Fang greatly. He scrambled and limped to the girl, who lay on layers of soaked padding. Her face was deathly pale.

“I’m here Wen Er,” Fang consoled the unconscious girl. He patted her damp hair, and wiped the sweat off her forehead with a clean towel. With trembling hands, Fang held two fingers to the pulse on her wrist. Fang’s face turned bitter - this was going to be a long night.

[Chapter End]