Limitless Cultivation System: From Trash to Immortal

The morning came up the eastern shutter at the angle a morning came up when it had been ordered to bring a free day along with it.

Lin Xuan stirred a quarter hour after the first cock-crow. He propped himself against the headboard, the ribs healed, the left arm firm where the frost had eaten the skin two days ago. A small clatter at the door warned him.

Lian shouldered the door open with a tray of food.

"Good morning, Xuan. I made the breakfast that you ought to have wanted yesterday but did not get because you fell asleep on the cushion like a fool. So I am compensating you today." Her grin had not entirely faded since the announcement at the Arena. She was still half-drunk on the victory of someone she had nursed back from a stretcher. "Spirit-rabbit broth. Honey buns. Tea. Eat?"

"Thank you, Lian."

"Eat, eat. Where am I, where am I, the soup is cooling while I chatter at you."

She positioned the tray on the low table and adjusted the angle of the bowl as if a wrong angle would offend the soup.

"Where is Wei?"

"Wei said watching you yesterday motivated him beyond reason." She rolled her eyes affectionately. "He has been in the patio since the second cock-crow. He has not stopped. I had to bring him water twice because he forgot it existed. Boys."

"Tell him not to sprain anything before the final."

"I have told him. He has not listened. Some men learn by injury."

She bowed quickly and left, already half thinking about the next chore.

He had taken his second mouthful when the door opened again. His father this time.

"Father? Do you need something?"

"Eat, son, do not stop on my account." Lin Zhen waved the formality off without stepping past the threshold. "I came to tell you I will be in the city the rest of the day. A meeting I should have closed last week. I will be home by nightfall."

"Understood. I will be preparing for tomorrow."

A small nod from the patriarch. He turned and pulled the door closed behind him without waiting for more.

Lin Xuan returned to the broth.

[ It looks like a regular morning. ]

’It does.’

He had eaten through half the bowl when the knock came. Two soft taps. Pause. One.

He set the spoon down. The knock was the wrong knock for Lian. It was no knock he could attribute to Wei, who would have called through the door without bothering with rhythm. It was no knock he expected from his father, who had already left.

’Who could it be?’

[ Not sure, Xuan. Invite them in. We will know more by asking. ]

"Enter."

The door eased open. A maid he did not recognize bowed at the threshold. Her robe carried the seal of the Lin family but her face was new to him.

"Young Master. A message. An elder wishes an audience with you. He waits at the outer gate."

Lin Xuan held the breath for a count.

’An elder? Now?’

[ I do not have a face for the maid, but the timing is strange. Your father walked out ten minutes ago. ]

He exhaled through his nose.

"Have him brought in, please."

She bowed and withdrew.

He set the bowl aside, moved from the bed to the cushion at the low table, arranged the second cushion across from him, and waited.

The elder entered alone.

He was older than Lin Xuan had read him in the rings and slower than the man he had glimpsed sitting in the Arena yesterday. The left side of the robe rode a finger’s width looser than the right; a bandage padded the rib line underneath. He bowed with the calculated economy of an old man who had learned bows hurt.

Lin Xuan rose, returned the bow, and gestured at the cushion.

"Please. Be seated."

He did not pour tea.

The elder registered the omission. His mouth pressed half a degree firmer.

"Young Master Lin Xuan. Allow me to congratulate you on your victory yesterday. Your reading of Heart of Winter was one of the most precise things this Arena has had the privilege of hosting this century. It honors you and the sect that raised you."

"You are generous, Elder."

"Forgive me. I have not introduced myself. I come from the capital. My name is Zhao."

"Elder Zhao." Lin Xuan inclined his head a finger. "An honor. Forgive me in turn for being direct, but tomorrow is a day that asks every breath I have. May I ask what brings you to my house?"

"Of course, of course. Forgive the manner of my arrival. I had not intended to call on you with so little ceremony."

’Mira. Did my father know this man was in the city?’

[ Probably not in the city. Certainly not at the door. The timing is engineered. Your father walks out the gate ten minutes ago and this man walks in the gate now. He has been watching the house. ]

’He waited for my father to leave then.’

[ Yes, it seems like that. ]

Aloud, Lin Xuan tilted his head a degree.

"Should this conversation include my father, Elder Zhao?"

"This is a separate concern, Young Master. One I would prefer to discuss with you directly. I will be direct, if you grant me the courtesy."

"I grant it."

Zhao straightened the inside of his sleeve as if to set the next sentence on a smooth surface.

"As you know, the matter of the Emperor will not remain private for much longer."

Lin Xuan produced the small slack of polite surprise he had not produced honestly in months.

"The Emperor? Something has befallen the Emperor? I have heard nothing, Elder. Until recently I could not rise from a bed without assistance, so I am not exactly current on capital news."

The elder weighed the face Lin Xuan was wearing. He weighed the lie. He chose to take the lie because the lie was useful to him.

"Forgive me, of course. The Emperor is gravely ill. He has not named an heir because he no longer has the strength to do so. There is a dispute of power among his children that is becoming impossible to contain."

"That is grave news indeed."

"It is. There are four of them, as you know. The First Prince, who unfortunately carries no talent for the martial arts. The Third Princess. The Fourth Prince, who has not done much to distinguish his name beyond staining it. And the Second Prince, on whose behalf I have come to your door. Prince Wei Tianlong."