Limitless Cultivation System: From Trash to Immortal

He knocked again. Nothing came back.

"Lin Kai. It is me. I am not going anywhere."

The corridor held its breath the way old corridors do when no one walks them. A draft moved against his ankles from somewhere the household had stopped sealing properly.

Inside the room a board creaked. A long pause. Then the slow drag of feet that had not been asked to do their job in a while.

The door cracked the width of two fingers.

The face behind it was one Xuan would have walked past in a market without recognizing.

Lin Kai’s hair was matted in a way that suggested someone had stopped fighting it. A patchy growth along the jaw the household razors would have shaved off a week ago without comment. A robe that had been a night robe at some point and had been a night robe for too many points after. The eyes did the worst of the work. They were neither angry nor curious. They were the eyes of a man who had quit feeling much about the door he was standing behind.

"Leave."

His voice came out hollow, the tone of a man stating the weather.

Xuan put his shoulder against the door before Lin Kai could decide which way to lean. Lin Kai did not have the strength to keep him out. The wood swung inward. Xuan stepped through and closed it behind him.

The air hit first. Closed body. Closed mouth. The faint sourness of food gone past its grace period in the corner.

One lamp burned low against the far wall. The shutters were drawn against a midday the rest of the household was living. Trays were stacked beside the window like a small bureaucracy of refusals. A book lay open on the floor, one page torn out of the binding. On the wall hung his everyday sword in its scabbard. The other one — the one his mother had pressed into his hands at the pass — was not in this room. Probably not in this household.

Lin Kai walked back to the bed without looking at him. He folded onto it the way a man folds onto a chair after a long day. Knees up, arms around them, forehead against the bone of his wrist.

Xuan pulled a low stool from beside the desk and sat.

"I am not going to ask if you are alright. I can see you are not."

Lin Kai did not raise his head.

"I am not going to tell you it was not your fault. We both know what you did. We both know why you did it."

Lin Kai’s eyes flicked up. Held him for half a breath. Went back to the floorboards.

"I am here because there are people who keep asking after you. People who cannot ask you directly anymore, because you have made it clear you will not open the door for them."

"No."

The word came out of Lin Kai without anything behind it. A reflex.

"Father has not said it out loud," Xuan went on. "He is not a man who says these things out loud. But he has not been the same man since the pass either. You are his son in blood, Lin Kai. He will not stop being your father because you have stopped being his son for a few weeks."

Lin Kai’s jaw worked. The teeth showed for an instant along the inner edge. He did not speak.

Xuan let the lamp speak instead. The flame moved an inch under whatever the draft was doing in the rafters.

"Mother Yu. Mother Lin Hua. They have come to this door more times than they will tell me. You sent them off with the same line each time. That they are not your mother. That they should go."

"They are not."

A flicker of voice this time. A degree of warmth in it that had not been there with the word leave. He was awake enough to defend the line, at least.

"Maybe not in the way you mean," Xuan said. "But they have carried the name of mother to you in this house longer than either of us has been old enough to argue about what the name should or should not include. They have earned the right to hear something out of you other than get out."

"Stop."

Xuan did not stop.

"Last week, Mother Lin Hua had Yueyue with her when I visited. The little one. She came up to me with a wooden tiger of hers. She wanted to know if her brother Lin Kai was going to be alright."

The first crack ran through Lin Kai’s face since the door had opened.

"I told her yes," Xuan said, more quietly. "I told her not to worry. I gave her my word in front of her mother and Mother Yu both."

Lin Kai’s forehead pressed harder against his wrist.

"She is five, Lin Kai. She does not understand a single thing about what has happened in this house. She loves you. That has not changed."

The pressure of wrist against forehead was the only answer for a long beat. Xuan let it stand. He had not come to break the man in one push.

When he spoke again, he leaned forward on the stool.

"Your mother."

Lin Kai’s head snapped up so fast a tendon in his neck audibly protested.

"Do not."

"Listen to me."

"Do not talk about her."

"She was not acting alone, Lin Kai."

Something in the room shifted. The slack in Lin Kai’s shoulders pulled tight by a thread.

"She was being moved. Someone was guiding her hand from outside this house. Someone we have not yet seen the face of. Someone who is still breathing tonight."

"It does not change what I did."

"No. It does not. But it changes whether what you did was the end of the story or the beginning of a longer one. Because the man or woman who whispered into her ear walks around free tonight. Moves pieces tonight. Eats dinner tonight. You have a choice about that."

Lin Kai’s hands had started to shake. Not the slow tremor of a body that had stopped eating. A different one. Heat coming in under the exhaustion.

"Do you not want to know who?" Xuan said. "Do you not want to know why it was her? Out of every mother in this empire, why hers?"

"Stop."

The word had a different weight this time. Less plea, more like a warning.

"Are you going to spend the rest of your life in this room?" Xuan kept his voice level. "Trays at the door. Lamp low. Questions chewing at you in the dark? Or are you going to walk out and find the answers that are taking your head apart right now?"

A long, ragged pull of breath.

When Lin Kai’s voice arrived, it was low, hoarse from disuse, and for the first time it had something underneath it that resembled a man.

"What do you propose."

Xuan watched him.

"In two weeks we are taking back one of the two mines Blood Fang stripped from us. That mine has been in their hands for two years. There are answers inside it that nobody has been allowed to ask after. Some of those answers tie back to whoever was speaking through your mother."

A bitter sound came out of Lin Kai. Halfway between a laugh and a thing that had given up trying to be one.

"You are inviting me on a mission. Lin Xuan. The adopted son who spent his whole life walking the long way around me is inviting me on a mission."

Xuan did not blink.

"I am offering. I am not going to drag you. But I am going to say what I came to say and you can do whatever you want with it after I close the door."

"Say it."

Xuan leaned an elbow on his knee.

"If you cannot look at me as a brother yet, do not force it. Do not promise me anything overnight. But there are others in this house who do still look at you the way they used to. Father. Mother Lin Hua. Mother Yu. Yueyue. None of them have stopped. They are waiting."

Lin Kai’s eyes finally lifted and stayed up. Bloodshot. Hollowed. But something behind them was alive in a way it had not been when the door opened.

His voice cracked on the way out.

"I killed her, Xuan."

Xuan did not soften. He also did not flinch.

"You killed someone who was about to kill our father and me, the elders, the disciples given the chance that night. That is what you did. The rest of it is the rest of it. You will carry it. So will he. So will I."

Lin Kai folded his face into his hands. He did not cry or shake. He just stayed like that, breathing into his palms as if relearning the act.

Xuan let the room have him. The lamp guttered once and held.

When Lin Kai’s voice came again, from inside the cup of his hands, it was small.

"I will think about it."

Xuan rose from the stool.

"Eat something. Open the door at least once a day so the head maid is not carrying full trays back to the kitchen. That is all I am asking before the trip."

He crossed to the door. He paused at the threshold with one hand on the wood.

"Two weeks, Lin Kai."

He closed the door behind him.

Out in the corridor the air was already different. He exhaled for the first time since he had walked in.

[ I have been watching his lamp since you stepped through. ]

’And?’

[ The red is flickering less. It has stabilized by one degree. ]

Xuan did not answer. He started down the corridor toward the patio light at the far end.

Behind him, inside the room, very faintly, came the sound of a tray being lifted off the floor.