Sen noticed Falling Leaf glaring over her shoulder again.
“I know they’re still following us,” he told her.
He’d been more or less escorting the new cultivator recruits back to where the army had set up their most recent camp. He’d been less than thrilled when he sensed the Patriarch and Chan Yu Ming trailing along behind them. The problem was that he’d basically told them to go to the capital. If they were going to the capital, they were headed the right way. Of course, that also meant they could be following him to have unwanted conversations. He took solace in the knowledge that they were almost back to the camp. A place where he could throw up innumerable obstacles to talking with either of those particular cultivators if he chose to.
“What do they want?” asked Falling Leaf, clearly not ready to let it go.
“The Patriarch wants me to make him something that will help him advance. I expect he’s going to try to bargain with me for it. I’m pretty sure Chan Yu Ming just wants to shout at me about things.”
“I thought she was wiser than this,” said Falling Leaf.
“Angry people do stupid things. I know that better than anyone, as should you. The heavens know that you saw me doing enough of those stupid things.”
Falling Leaf chewed on that thought for a little while before offering a grudging, “Perhaps. What about the other one?”
“I’ll have to see what he thinks he can offer me.”
“Is there anything you’d accept?”
Sen offered her a smile that would have made the Patriarch think twice about asking for anything.
“Oh, there is one thing I’d accept, but it’s nothing he’d want to give.”
“So, he’ll leave?”
Sen considered that question before he said, “No. I think he’ll do it. Cultivators are nothing if not ambitious. He’ll come to hate me for it, but it’ll be too late by then.”
Falling Leaf started to say something, but her head snapped toward the camp. She sniffed the air.
“I smell food. It must be nearly meal time.”
Sen sniffed the air as well and caught the scent of cooking meat on the wind. Zhang Bai must be hard at work, thought Sen, thinking of the surly head cook. I should go say hello. I haven’t been by recently. Once they arrived at the camp, he took enormous pleasure in indulging in things that made him unavailable. First, he needed to settle the new cultivators. Then, he urgently required updates from the military leadership. After that, a trip to the cooking tents was in order. That, naturally, led to an extended conversation with Zhang Bai about their current food stores and any pressing shortages. Sen had to have an uninterrupted meal since he had gone to all the trouble of visiting the cooking tents. It was only then that he retreated to his tent, where he’d arranged for two mortal guards to make it difficult for anyone to get in to see him.
“How long do you intend to keep this up?” asked Misty Peak.
“At least another hour,” he said.
“In that case, I have updates from the capital.”
“Is there a crisis I need to know about?” asked Sen, dreading such news.
“No. It’s all dreadfully dull and mortal.”
“Oh, well then, please proceed.”
While Misty Peak talked, Sen made them tea and listened to what the nobles back in the capital thought they were getting away with. He shook his head. He would have to check in with Lo Meifeng to see what, if anything, she planned to do about all of that. Then again, some of that nonsense might be happening because she wanted it to happen. She had said something about playing the noble houses against each other. Playing those sorts of games wasn’t one of his strengths. He could reason out the games once they were happening. At least, he could if he put enough effort into it, but he wasn’t subtle enough to plan or initiate them. He idly reheated the tea in both of their cups while the talking outside his tent got increasingly agitated.
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“I suppose I’ll have to let one of them in,” he finally conceded. “I don’t want them to do something violent to those guards.”
Misty Peak gave him an arch look and said, “Do you want to really annoy them?”
“What do you have in mind?”
A few minutes later, Misty Peak left the tent with her hair a mess and her robes carefully arranged to look carelessly put on. Sen’s own robes had received the same treatment. He could hear Chan Yu Ming sputtering outside. He finally called out to the guards.
“Let the patriarch enter!”
Sen lifted his tea to take a sip as the other nascent soul cultivator entered the tent. The man was doing a good job of hiding it, but the tension around his eyes betrayed deep frustration.
“Lord Lu.”
“Tea?” asked Sen.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Please. Sit.”
The former Patriarch of the Clear Spring Sect sat and refilled Sen’s cup before pouring one for himself. It was the action of a junior and had to be galling for someone who had been the supreme authority in his domain mere hours before. Rather than speak, Sen leaned back in his chair and sipped his tea. He wasn’t the one who wanted something. So, he didn’t feel the need to open the negotiations. The other man sipped his tea several times before looking directly at Sen.
“I know that you already said no to crafting something with the pendant, but I hope that we might revisit that topic.”
Sen sipped his tea again before saying, “And why would I want to do that?”
“I may be able to provide something of sufficient value that it would be worth your time and effort.”
“Such as?”
The former Patriarch reached out over the table and deposited several natural treasures. Nothing quite on the same level as the gem in the pendant, but quite good. The kinds of things that most other cultivators and alchemists would fall all over themselves to acquire.
“Such as these.”
“Those are all of excellent quality. I’m sure you won’t find it difficult to sell them in the capital, but I have no need of them.”
Sen reached out and summoned natural treasures of equivalent quality from his own storage rings. He let the other man study them for a short time before sending the treasures back into the rings. The former patriarch sat motionless for half a minute before taking back his offering.
“I see,” said the man before sipping his tea.
“If that was all, I really am quite busy,” said Sen.
“I appreciate your time.”
The other cultivator rose and started walking toward the entrance of the tent. Sen waited until the man was about to walk out before he spoke.
“I will make what you want. You simply haven’t offered me what I want, yet.”
“And what is it that you want?” asked the former Patriarch, his expression wary.
“A vow.”
“Like the one you made the rest of my sect take?”
“Oh, no. I will require a much more stringent vow from you,” said Sen. “You will vow to serve me and the House of Lu faithfully.”
The caution on the man’s face deepened.
“Until when?”
“Until your death,” said Sen. “That was, after all, what you tried to consign me to. Death. So, I will give you what you want, but I will consign you to servitude until you die. You were perfectly willing to bend to one noble house, so this should feel very familiar.”
“Out of the question!”
“That is entirely your choice. If you believe that you will find someone else to make what you want for a lesser price, I assure you that you won’t. Ma Caihong and Fu Ruolan are not known for their acts of charity. But you’re free to ask them. If you can find them, and assuming they don’t simply kill you immediately for imposing on their time. Feel free to let me know if you succeed.”
Sen gestured at the tent flaps. The indecision in the former patriarch was in plain view on his face. Yes, there was a chance that he could get what he wanted from someone else, but it was a poor chance. On the other hand, he had a guarantee from Sen. All he had to do to get the advancement aid he craved was to sacrifice his dignity. For his part, Sen would have taken his chances looking for someone else. Failing to advance would have been far better than permanently surrendering your will to someone else. Of course, the patriarch was far older than Sen. More conservative in his thinking. Less willing to hazard risk for reward now that he was so much closer to ascension than most cultivators ever got. The man’s decision wasn’t a foregone conclusion, but it also didn’t come as a particular shock when he came and knelt in front of Sen.
“I, Xu Xiao Dan, vow to the heavens that I will faithfully serve Lu Sen and the house of Lu—” the man had to swallow hard before he finished. “Until I die.”
Sen waited for the telltale glow that showed the vow was accepted. It never came.
“It seems the heavens think you’re a liar,” said Sen. “You may leave this camp now.”
“Wait!” cried Xu Xiao Dan. “I, Xu Xiao Dan, vow to the heavens that I will faithfully serve Lu Sen and the house of Lu until my death.”
There was another protracted pause before the glow finally appeared.
“Well,” said Sen brightly. “Look at that. You mustered some conviction. Good for you.”
“Thank you, Lord Lu,” said Xu Xiao Dan, who looked like something had permanently lodged itself in his throat.
“Your first task is to go tell Chan Yu Ming that I’m not receiving any more visitors tonight. Make sure she leaves. Leave the pendant here. I’ll attend to it when time permits.”
“Yes, Lord Lu,” choked out Xu Xiao Dan.
He deposited the pendant on the table before leaving the tent. Sen smiled as he heard Chan Yu Ming’s outraged voice as she demanded to see him.
“This might work out better than I thought,” he told the empty tent.