Shadowwwing
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39. Rash Decisions
🕑 Added 2025-04-29 22:00:12 +0000 UTC“—if you truly believe a servant’s tavern gossip from three weeks ago warrants an expedition, then I’m afraid your time here has taught you nothing.”
Jiang stood rigid in the middle of Elder Lu’s study, arms tense at his sides. The walls felt closer than they were. Paper screens, shelves of ink and scrolls, the faint scent of sandalwood curling in the still air.
‘My time here has taught me nothing!’ he wanted to snap. Fortunately, he retained enough self-control to realise it was just the frustration talking.
“They mentioned a caravan,” he said instead, trying to keep his voice steady. “Unusually well-guarded, with the insignia of the Hollow Fangs on the side. Right number of people. Right direction. It’s not nothing.”
Lu Heng didn’t look up from the scroll he was slowly rolling back into its case. “And is there any actual evidence of this beyond the word of a servant, who heard it from a friend, who heard it from a merchant?” he asked placidly. “The first lesson every cultivator must learn is patience. Running off after every random rumour will only lead to your exhaustion.”
Jiang held back the urge to pace. He hated the tightness in his chest, the way his hands wouldn’t unclench.
“I’m not saying we mobilise half the Sect,” he said. “I just think someone should check. That’s how the Hollow Fangs have been getting away with things for so long – people brush it off.”
Lu finished tying the scroll and set it aside with precise care. “And if no one finds anything? What happens when the next whisper reaches you? And the one after that?”
Jiang didn’t answer. Not because he hadn’t thought about it but because he already knew what the Elder would say. He exhaled slowly through his nose. “I can’t keep sitting here.”
Lu studied him. “You can. You don’t want to.”
“That’s not—”
“Yes, it is,” Lu said quietly. “And I understand. More than you think. But understanding doesn’t change the facts. We have no confirmation this caravan existed, no timeline, no route. If we send someone now, they’ll be chasing ghosts. Possibly nothing at all.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” Jiang bit back. “What if there’s another village out there, burning as we speak?”
“Then I will mourn their loss and carefully consider how to move forward,” Elder Lu replied, drawing himself up and pinning Jiang with a steady gaze. “But I would not rush off recklessly chasing stories.”
Jiang looked at him incredulously. “So you’d do nothing,” he said dully.
Elder Lu’s eyes darkened, and the faintest hint of Qi buzzed in the air around them. “And what would you have me do?” He asked pointedly. “I am an Elder of the Azure Sky Sect. When I move through the mortal world, I carry the weight of my Sect’s reputation with me. I cannot afford to be reckless.”
Jiang didn’t flinch, though the weight of that statement settled hard. He’d never seen Elder Lu raise his voice, never seen him lash out, but there was something in that calm—something edged, like a drawn blade wrapped in silk. Jiang took a breath through his nose and forced himself not to meet the pressure with defiance. That wouldn’t help.
“I’m not asking you to be reckless,” he said, slower now, quieter. “I’m asking you to treat this like it matters.”
“It does matter,” Lu said, with a touch less sharpness. “But not all things that matter can be acted on at once. Furthermore, not all matters are ours to deal with. Do you think the magistrate of the province doesn’t have a vested interest in tracking down the Hollow Fangs? Do you think it is merely incompetence that has allowed them to operate unchecked for so long? No. The Hollow Fangs, and Gao Leng in particular, are dangerous and clever. They would not make so base a mistake as this.”
Jiang clenched his hands into fists. He could feel the flow of the argument turning against him. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see Elder Lu’s points – he could – but right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Maybe he was wrong, and the lead was nothing more than a tavern story – but so what? At the speeds a cultivator could move, it would amount to, what, a few days of wasted time?
Even for him, it would probably only take a week or so.
Jiang seized the thought and ran with it. “I’ll go,” he said. “Alone. Just to check it out.”
Lu didn’t answer immediately. He looked at Jiang for a long moment, then stepped back and poured himself a cup of tea from the pot on the side table.
“And if you find them, then what? You throw yourself to your death, waste your potential for the sake of killing a few bandits?” He eyed Jiang over the rim of his cup. “And make no mistake, my boy, you have potential. The rate of your advancement is incredible, and while I have no doubt it will begin to taper off, you may well be able to reach the third or fourth realm before you are even thirty years of age. That is incredible progress.”
Jiang looked at him like he was mad. “So what? If I spend all my time couped up on a mountain, learning better ways of breathing, I may as well be dead. What the hell is the point of having the power to change things if you never use it?”
He scoffed. “Besides, a moment ago, you seemed to think there was no chance this was a real lead; now you’re suddenly worried about me running into the bandits?”
Lu’s expression didn’t change. “You think the world will wait for you to decide whether or not you’re ready? You think danger will announce itself politely before drawing steel? There are far more threats in this world – even in our little corner of it – than mere mortal bandits.”
The Elder sighed. “I can see from your expression that my words are not having the effect I intended.” He set his cup down with a careful motion. “Make no mistake, I understand how—”
A knock interrupted him, and the door slid open a moment later without waiting for permission. A servant stepped in, bowing low.
“Honoured Elder,” the servant said, “A thousand apologies for the interruption, but the Sect Leader has called for an emergency meeting. Your presence is required.”
Lu Heng’s jaw tensed just slightly. He gave a short nod. “I’ll attend shortly.”
The servant bowed again and withdrew, silent as he’d come.
“We’ll continue this discussion tomorrow,” Elder Lu said, trying for a smile. “If I know anything about our honourable Sect Leader, it’s that he likes the sound of his own voice.”
The attempt at humour fell flat.
“Sure,” Jiang muttered, turning for the door before he said something stupid.
He walked back through the Sect grounds, jaw tight, shoulders stiff. The wind off the mountain cut cold across the training fields, but he didn’t feel it. Too busy chewing over the conversation.
Speak again tomorrow. Which meant another lecture. Another calm, reasonable explanation for why now wasn’t the right time, why the risks were too high, why Jiang should just keep sitting still and breathing deeper.
He shoved his door open harder than he meant to and let it swing shut behind him. The room was dark, the last light of dusk barely catching on the edge of the desk by the wall.
Sure, the lead might be nothing, but what if it wasn’t? The longer he waited, the harder it would be to track down his family, and the more likely it was that something terrible would happen to them. Slavery wasn’t usually the kind of business that put a lot of stock in keeping the slaves happy and healthy.
But he doubted Elder Lu would accept that as enough reason to let him go traipsing off into the world. But he refused to give up. There had to be something he could say, some argument he could find that would convince the Elder to let him go.
Jiang paused.
Actually… why the hell did he need permission in the first place?
Elder Lu had undoubtedly been helpful to him – regardless of where he needed to go or what he needed to do, cultivation would serve him well – but at the end of the day… Jiang was his own person. He’d joined the Sect because he needed the knowledge and power to help him find his family, and if staying in the Sect no longer brought him closer to that goal… then what reason did he have to stay?
There might be consequences for leaving the Sect – for one, he doubted they would welcome him back if or when he returned with his family – but that was a problem he could solve once it became relevant.
He winced.
The idea of slinking away like a thief in the night wasn’t one he was terribly comfortable with – if nothing else, the Sect had provided weeks worth of food, housing, and clothing for him. Repaying that by running away didn’t sit well with him, but he was willing to do worse to accomplish his goals.
As for Elder Lu… the man had vouched for him at the entrance trials, kept Elder Yan off his back, offered advice and tea and the occasional lecture on the importance of not getting himself killed. But none of that was free. Not really.
Jiang remembered the way Lu Heng had phrased it back at Wúyè when they’d first met, and he’d asked why the Elder was willing to help him. “An investment,” the man had said. Not charity. Not kindness. An investment.
He didn’t begrudge it. It just made sense; people like Lu Heng didn’t do things without reason, and Jiang wasn’t stupid enough to believe otherwise. But if that was the case—if all of this had been transactional from the start—then maybe it was time he stopped treating it like something more.
Lu Heng wasn’t family. He wasn’t a friend. He wasn’t even an ally, not really. He was a cultivator who saw potential in a desperate village boy and decided he might be worth the trouble.
And while he certainly owed the man a debt… his family came first. Jiang ran a hand through his hair, exhaled slowly and looked towards the small chest that held his few belongings, including the remains of his bow and his hunting leathers.
This was the kind of decision that should have been well considered, the advantages and disadvantages weighed against each other.
But then, he’d never been the type to overthink things.
— — —
Zhang Shuren stepped out of the formation chamber, breath even, skin faintly damp. The ambient hum of Qi still clung to his robes, trailing behind him in faint, invisible eddies. His limbs still felt heavy, like someone had poured molten iron into his bones. A good session, then. Not perfect—never perfect—but progress.
He rolled his shoulders once, stretching the tightness from his joints. Even with premium access and the best formations the Sect had to offer, it was still slow going. The higher you climbed, the narrower the path. A truth every cultivator knew, even if few liked to admit it.
He descended the outer steps, heading toward his quarters. The mountain air had cooled significantly as evening approached, and he enjoyed the refreshing breeze as he walked. The Sect grounds were quiet. A few inner disciples lingered near the halls, speaking in low voices. A pair of stewards walked past with lanterns, heading toward the eastern storage.
Zhang kept walking, mind already drifting toward the next stages of his cultivation plan. He’d need a new resonance stone before his next breakthrough attempt—something to help anchor his meridians during compression. The Sect had a few, but the best ones were kept under lock and key or buried behind bureaucratic layers of requisition paperwork. He’d have to call in a few favours, maybe trade a lesson or two.
A flicker of motion caught at the corner of his eye.
He almost ignored it. Plenty of disciples liked to take late walks through the outer gardens. But then the shape passed too close to a lamp, and Zhang caught a glimpse of a familiar face, half-hidden under a hood.
Jiang Tian.
Not dressed in the robes of a cultivator, but what looked like peasant travelwear – some kind of hunting leathers, perhaps? No Sect emblem to be seen, and he was carrying a light pack over his shoulder.
It took Zhang all of three seconds to put it together.
He exhaled once through his nose and kept walking, though a pleased smile teased at the edge of his lips. His gambit had worked better than he expected. When he’d slipped the coin to that kitchen boy, he’d half expected the tale to be ignored. Or dismissed as beneath interest. It had been a long shot.
Why the boy was even interested in some random mortal bandit gang in the first place, Zhang had no idea – but the servants he’d questioned had all confirmed that Jiang had been asking anyone willing to speak with him questions about the Hollow Fangs, so Zhang had spun up a rumour to test his reaction.
He hadn’t expected the foolish boy to outright leave the Sect, but he wasn’t about to complain. Presumably, whatever Jiang was chasing, the boy thought it was worth being branded a rouge disciple.
Zhang snorted softly.
Or, more likely, the boy simply had no idea what the consequences of his actions were. In truth, Zhang didn’t dislike Jiang. The kid was stubborn, sure, and had too many rough edges to smooth over in a single lifetime, but he took hits without whining, learned quickly, and didn’t flinch from being corrected. That counted for something.
But it didn’t mean he was worthy of being a cultivator.
He reached his quarters and stepped inside, letting the door shut behind him with a quiet thud.
So. Jiang Tian was removed from the Sect. Not precisely what Elder Yan had asked for, but Zhang doubted the Elder would be displeased. If nothing else, abandoning the Sect like this over a rumour was about as clear an indication of Jiang’s suitability as could be hoped for.
Which meant that, finally, his task could be considered complete, and he could move on to more important things than some random outer disciple.
Zhang hummed to himself, pleased. Elder Yan likely wouldn’t reward him for his actions – to do so would imply success was anything but expected, after all – but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t get anything out of this. It could be worth mentioning his lack of a resonance stone. Not too overtly, of course, but if he could prove that he was close to a breakthrough, then the Elder might view it as worth the expense.
As for Jiang…
Well, it wasn’t his problem anymore. The Sect would likely assign an inner disciple to track him down and demonstrate why abandoning his duties was a bad idea.
Either way, Zhang doubted he’d ever see the boy again.
Comments
Ahmad Azem
to be honest elder lu's incompetence regarding elder yan , is quite annoying
Arden Burrell
I know he's angry but this is so stupid. I hope he grows up quickly
