Cultivation is Creation

Han Renyi stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror, adjusting the jade pendant that hung from his neck. The piece was beautiful despite its age – intricate carvings of mountains and rivers adorned its surface, telling stories of a more prosperous time. It was also the last valuable item his family owned, a bitter reminder of how far the once-mighty Han merchant clan had fallen.

"Young Master," a servant called from outside his door, "your father requests your presence in the main hall."

Renyi sighed, running a hand through his jet-black hair. He'd tied it back in a loose ponytail, a style that managed to look both respectable and slightly rebellious – much like himself, he supposed. His green eyes, unusual in this part of the world, met their reflection's gaze.

"Tell him I'll be there shortly," he called back, straightening his robes. They were well-made but showing signs of wear – much like everything else in the Han household these days.

The walk through the family compound was a study in faded glory. Wooden panels that had once gleamed with polish now showed their age, and gaps in the roof tiles let in streams of early morning light. They still maintained appearances in the areas visitors might see, but it was a losing battle against time and dwindling resources.

"Young Master Han!" Old Po, their last remaining gardener, waved from where he was fighting a losing battle against a particularly aggressive patch of weeds. "The peonies are blooming early this year!"

Renyi managed a smile. Old Po had been with the family longer than Renyi had been alive, and he still tended the gardens with the same dedication he'd shown in their more prosperous days, even though they could barely afford to pay him anymore.

"They look beautiful, Uncle Po," Renyi said, using the familiar form of address the old man had earned through decades of service. The flowers really did look lovely, spots of defiant color amid the general decline.

"Ah, but you should have seen them in your grandfather's time," Old Po sighed. "Back then, the rouqi was so thick in the air, you could almost taste it.”

Renyi nodded, having heard variations of this story many times before. Everyone old enough to remember spoke of how different things had been "back then" – how the rouqi had flowed more freely, how breaking through to higher tiers had been commonplace rather than rare.

"The world's not what it used to be," Old Po continued, attacking a particularly stubborn weed with his trowel. "But we make do with what we have, eh? Speaking of which, you'd better not keep your father waiting."

Right. The summons. Renyi quickened his pace.

His father, Han Zhongwei, waited in the main hall. Once, this room had hosted meetings with merchant princes and sect leaders. Now, its emptiness seemed to echo with memories of better days. The older man stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out at the garden where weeds were slowly reclaiming the carefully arranged paths.

"Renyi," his father said without turning, "how goes your cultivation?"

"Steady progress," Renyi replied, moving to stand beside him. "The breakthrough to Tier 1 was... expensive, but worth it." He left unsaid how that expense had forced them to sell off three more warehouses and let go of a dozen longtime employees.

His father nodded slowly. "Good. That's... good." He finally turned, and Renyi was struck by how much older he looked. The past few years had carved new lines into his face, turned more of his hair grey. "We received another message from Elder Zhou Shentong this morning."

Renyi's hands clenched involuntarily. "Let me guess – another 'generous offer' to buy out our remaining holdings at a fraction of their worth?"

"If only it were that simple." His father's smile held no humor. "No, this time he's offering to 'merge our families' through marriage. Your sister, specifically."

"What?" Renyi's voice came out sharper than he intended. "Qingyi is barely eighteen! And that old bastard already has three wives!"

"Four," his father corrected quietly. "He added the Liu family's youngest daughter to his collection last month. Apparently, they too were facing 'financial difficulties' that mysteriously resolved after the wedding." řÂΝǑᛒĚS̈

Renyi felt his stomach turn. Lord Zhou was known throughout the region for his wealth and influence, but also for his cruelty and capricious nature. His previous wives were rarely seen in public, and the rumors about their treatment...

"So that's his game? Squeeze us until we have no choice but to sell Qingyi like... like some commodity? Scum!"

"Language, son." The rebuke was automatic, a holdover from better days when maintaining face had actually mattered. "But essentially, yes. The Three-Leaf Clover Sect has been systematically absorbing smaller merchant families for the past decade. Those who cooperate are rewarded with positions and resources. Those who resist..." He gestured at their surroundings.

"We can't let this happen," Renyi declared. "There has to be another way."

His father's expression softened. "I've spent the last year looking for one. Our traditional allies are either already under Zhou's influence or too afraid to help. The smaller sects won't challenge the Three-Leaf Clover's authority. And our attempts to rebuild our trade routes have been systematically blocked."

"Then we'll find untraditional allies," Renyi insisted. "What about the Formation Guild? They're neutral in most conflicts, and they're always looking for new talent. If I could apprentice with them—"

"Unless you showed heavenly talent, the entrance fee alone would cost more than everything we own," his father interrupted gently. "No, son. I appreciate your determination, but we need to be realistic."

Renyi wanted to argue further, but movement in the courtyard caught his attention. A group of men was approaching the main gate – Rouqin, judging by their bearing and the energy signatures he could sense. Their robes bore the three-leaf emblem of Zhou's sect.

"Right on schedule," his father murmured. "They're here to 'escort' me to a meeting with Elder Zhou." He straightened his robes, a shadow of his old merchant's dignity settling over him. "While I'm gone, I need you to—"

"Father, no." Renyi stepped between him and the door. "Let me go instead. I'm the one with rouqi now, I can—"

"Can what?" His father's voice was sharp. "Fight them? Even with your breakthrough, you're barely at the early stages of Tier 1. Any one of Zhou's enforcers could kill you without breaking a sweat." His expression softened. "No, your job is to stay here and protect your sister. Whatever happens today, promise me you won't do anything rash."

Renyi wanted to protest, to insist that he could handle whatever Zhou threw at them. But he could read the fear behind his father's stern expression – not fear for himself, but for his children. "I... I promise."

His father nodded, then reached up to adjust Renyi's collar in a gesture that felt decades younger. "Good boy. Your mother would have been proud. Now, I believe I have some guests to greet."

Renyi watched helplessly as his father walked out to meet Zhou's men. Their voices drifted back – polite words masking implied threats, the dance of cultivator politics that had never been the Han family's strong suit. Then they were gone, leaving Renyi alone with his thoughts and his growing anger.

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***

Han Renyi spent the next hour pacing the halls of the family compound, trying to think of solutions and discarding them one by one. The few remaining servants gave him a wide berth, probably sensing the agitated swirls of rouqi that followed in his wake.

"Young Master?" One of the braver servants, an elderly woman who had helped raise him, approached cautiously. "Perhaps some tea would help calm—"

"I'm calm," Renyi snapped, then immediately regretted it when she flinched. "I'm sorry, Auntie Liu. I just... I feel so useless. Father's out there facing who knows what, and I'm stuck here because I'm not strong enough to help."

The old woman's expression softened. "Strength comes in many forms, young master. Your father gains his from knowing you and your sister are safe."

"Safe?" Renyi laughed bitterly. "How safe will Qingyi be when Zhou decides to add her to his collection of wives? How safe will any of us be when—"

He broke off as a commotion erupted at the main gate. Servants scattered as three figures burst into the courtyard – not Zhou's men returning with his father, but strangers wearing the nondescript clothes of professional Rouqins-for-hire. Mercenaries.

"Young Master Han!" one of them called out, his voice carrying false cheer. "We bring an invitation from Lord Zhou. He requests your immediate presence."

Renyi's mind raced. If they were here for him, then something had gone wrong at the meeting. Had his father—? No, he couldn't think about that now. He needed to focus on the immediate threat.

"Auntie Liu," he said quietly, "get Qingyi and the others out through the back gate. Use the old tunnel if you have to."

"But young master—"

"Go!" He gave her a gentle push toward the servant's quarters, then turned to face the intruders. "I'm afraid I'll have to decline Lord Zhou's generous invitation. I have prior commitments."

The mercenaries spread out, moving to cut off potential escape routes. Their leader smiled, and there was nothing false about the cruelty in it now. "I'm afraid we must insist."

Renyi's hand went to the sword at his waist – another family heirloom, though at least this one had practical value. "And I'm afraid I must resist."

What followed was a brief but intense exchange of blows. Renyi was good – his father had insisted on proper martial training since he could walk – but these men were professionals. More importantly, they were all at the late stages of Tier 1, while he had only recently broken through.

He managed to wound one of them, a lucky strike that opened a shallow cut along the man's arm, but that only seemed to make them angry. The leader's next attack sent him crashing through a wooden screen, and he barely rolled away from a follow-up strike that would have taken his head off.

"You're only making this worse for yourself," one of the mercenaries called out as Renyi scrambled to his feet. "Lord Zhou might have been merciful before, but now?"

Renyi's response was to throw a decorative vase at the man's head, following it up with a burst of rouqi that made the ceramic explode into dangerous shards. He used the distraction to bolt for the gate, hoping to draw them away from the compound and give the few servants they still employed time to escape with Qingyi.

The streets of the merchant district were mostly empty at this hour – the sun had barely cleared the horizon, and most legitimate businesses wouldn't open for another hour. The few early risers took one look at the chase and quickly found somewhere else to be.

As he ran, Renyi tried think of a way out of this mess. He could try to lose them in the warehouse district – he knew those buildings well from better days when the Han family's trade empire had been worth knowing. But the mercenaries were gaining on him, their superior cultivation letting them slowly close the gap.

A slash of rouqi-enhanced steel caught him across the back, not deep enough to be fatal but enough to make him stumble. He turned the stumble into a roll, coming up with his sword ready, but he could feel warm blood soaking into his robes.

"Young Master Han," the leader called out, his tone mockingly formal, "why make this difficult? Lord Zhou merely wishes to discuss some... business matters with you."

"Lord Zhou can go fuck himself," Renyi spat back, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the blood trickling from his split lip – a souvenir from their earlier exchange. "I know exactly what kind of 'discussion' he has in mind."

The leader sighed. "As you wish. We'll simply deliver your corpse then. I'm sure that will send an equally effective message to your father."

Renyi tried to keep track of all three attackers, but his vision was starting to blur at the edges. The wound on his back burned, and he could feel his strength ebbing with each passing moment. He barely managed to deflect a thrust aimed at his throat, only to catch a kick to his ribs that sent him stumbling again.

This time when he tried to roll away, a blade caught him just below the left shoulder blade. The pain was... distant, somehow. Academic. He was aware of falling, of the cold stone against his cheek, but it all felt like it was happening to someone else.

"Make sure he stays down," he heard someone say, "but keep him breathing for now. Lord Zhou wanted him to have time to... reflect on his choices."

As Renyi’s vision began to blur, something strange happened. A figure materialized in the air above him – translucent, ghostly, yet somehow more real than his surroundings.

For a moment, his dying mind latched onto childhood stories of the Celestial Sovereign's messengers, divine beings who would sometimes appear to the worthy in their hour of need.

But no. The Celestial Sovereign had abandoned them all centuries ago, leaving their world to slowly wither and die. This was something else. The being's form was too solid, too... human, despite its spectral nature. A demon then? Some dark spirit come to feast on his dying essence?

If so, it wasn't like any demon from the stories. There was no malevolence in its presence, no sense of ancient evil or corrupting influence. Just... purpose. And perhaps a hint of desperation that matched his own.

"You are dying…do you want to live?" The voice bypassed his ears entirely, speaking directly into his mind. "Power? Revenge? I can give you both. All you have to do is accept me."

Renyi almost laughed, though his punctured lung made that impossible. A demon's bargain at the moment of death. But what choice did he really have? His father was probably already dead. His sister would be forced into Zhou's harem. Their family legacy would be erased, generations of honest trade replaced by another corrupt cultivator's victory.

The traditional wisdom said it was better to die with honor than live with shame. But honor hadn't saved them from Zhou's ambitions. Honor hadn't kept food on their servants' tables or maintained the roof over their heads. Honor was a luxury they could no longer afford.

And if this being was offering him a chance – any chance – to protect what remained of his family and pay back those who had destroyed them... well, he'd gladly throw away his soul for that.

With the last of his strength, Renyi forced his dying lips to form one word: "Yes."

And that’s when everything went dark.

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