Parting and Gifts

Lin Xiu's sewing hand paused, the tip of her needle suspended in midair. She looked at her son sitting on the threshold, her throat tightening.

Lu Yuan didn't look up. The stick of charcoal in his hand traced one last symbol on the slate. He blew away the loose dust and turned the slate toward his father.

"Three pieces of Green-Veined Stone are buried in the southeast corner of the backyard." He pointed to the triangular marks on the diagram. "Remember where they are. Water the patch in the middle once every three days."

Lu Qinghe put down his bundle of firewood and leaned over to look. He could barely read, but he understood the diagram.

"Growing grass?" he asked.

"Soul Condensing Grass." Lu Yuan wiped away the charcoal marks. "The stones can gather Soul Power. It's very slow, but enough. Once the grass grows three inches tall, pinch off the tips, dry them and grind them into powder-no more than five leaves."

Lu Qinghe stared at the diagram for a long while without speaking.

The courtyard was so quiet that the hiss of needle and thread passing through coarse cloth could be heard.

Lu Yuan stood and went inside to fetch his rough-paper notebook. He flipped it open to the middle and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

"The formula for the Energy Mixture." He unfolded the paper. "It's thirty percent more effective than the current one, but it tastes bitter and has a darker color."

Lu Qinghe took the paper. His fingers rubbed over its rough surface. He had heard of most of the herbs named on it.

"Still three bowls a day." Lu Qinghe took the paper. His fingers rubbed over its rough surface. He had heard of most of the herbs named on it.

"Three bowls a day at most." Lu Yuan's tone was even. "Tell Shopkeeper Liu the new formula uses a lot of ingredients, so we can't make much."

"What if he asks why it's gotten bitter?"

"Just say we added a medicine to strengthen the foundation." Lu Yuan paused. "It doesn't matter whether he believes it. What matters is that the amount has to be strictly limited."

Lu Qinghe folded the paper and tucked it into his robes. He suddenly looked up. "What about you?"

Lu Yuan was taken aback.

"What will you rely on out there?" Lu Qinghe's voice was hoarse. "The academy costs money, and so do food and drink. You can't use the formula you're leaving at home."

Lu Yuan smiled faintly.

He pulled out another sheet of paper. It was yellower, with tiny wormholes along the edges. A human figure was drawn on it, covered in points and lines, with short sentences written beside it.

"A breathing method," he explained. "I simplified it and removed everything that could possibly go wrong. Follow the diagram to circulate your Qi, once every morning and evening, for no more than half a quarter of an hour each time."

Lu Qinghe stared at the diagram, his throat moving.

"This... also came from that old book?"

"Mm." Lu Yuan's expression didn't change. "There were only a few surviving pages. I copied them all down."

That was the truth. He had drawn the most basic and safest Soul Power guidance model from his memories of his previous life in a way this world could understand. He had stripped away the theoretical derivations, leaving only the results: a reliable Soul Power circulation path, twelve key points, and three breathing rhythms.

It was safe, but its efficiency had suffered.

For his father, it was enough. Lu Qinghe had just broken through to level twenty, and his Soul Power was unstable. What he needed was consolidation, not risk.

"Just practice this method yourself." Lu Yuan lowered his voice. "Don't pass it on. It's not that I'm unwilling to share it; I'm afraid it'll cause trouble."

Lu Qinghe nodded firmly.

He clutched the paper, his knuckles turning white. After a long while, he looked up, his eyes a little red.

"Little Yuan," he called his son by name. "Your father... your father is useless. I can't give you much."

Lu Yuan shook his head.

"You fed me for six years," he said slowly. "You didn't let me starve or freeze. That's enough."

Lin Xiu's needle and thread stopped.

She lowered her head. A tear fell onto the indigo coarse cloth, spreading into a small dark patch.

Lu Yuan walked over and crouched down. He picked up the cloth and felt the fine, close stitches.

"Mother, you don't need to make the clothes so thick," he said. "The academy has standard robes."

"You still need this." Lin Xiu wiped her eyes, her voice muffled. "Robes are robes. This was made by your mother."

She snatched back the cloth and went on sewing. Her stitches grew uneven, but she didn't pull them out.

Lu Yuan said no more.

He went back inside and dragged a small wooden chest out from under the bed. He opened it to find an assortment of odds and ends: a few stones, a bundle of dried grass stems, and the Continent Soul Beast Illustrated Guide: Beginner Volume.

The book was a used copy he had traded Energy Soup for some time ago, and its cover was nearly falling off. He opened it and drew a pressed leaf from the flyleaf.

A Blue Silver Grass leaf.

Its veins were clear, its edges dry and yellow, and a trace of very pale green remained at its center. This was the leaf that had glowed for three seconds on the day his Soul Power broke through to level two. Afterward, he had nurtured it with Soul Power every day, recording the changes as though conducting an experiment.

The leaf hadn't withered, but it had never glowed again.

Lu Yuan held it up to the window light. The veins revealed a faint pattern in the light, like a hidden circuit. He found strips of bark, sandwiched the leaf between them, and bound both ends tightly with thin hemp cord.

A crude bookmark.

He slipped it back into the flyleaf of his rough-paper notebook. The first half of the notebook held all his experimental data and theoretical deductions from the past few months; the second half was still blank.

The tip of the leaf rested at the beginning of the line, "Seventh record of Blue Silver Grass activity stimulation."

Lu Yuan closed the notebook, his fingers lingering on its rough cover for a moment.

He knew that the only things he could leave at home were those he had simplified again and again, with safety as the first priority. The real core-his conjectures about the nature of Soul Power and his models of Martial Soul structure-could only be taken with him.

It wasn't a lack of trust.

Those things could themselves bring disaster. His father couldn't protect them, nor should he have to.

The sound of chopping wood came from the courtyard. The axe fell, the firewood split, and the sound was crisp.

Lu Yuan pushed the wooden chest back under the bed and went to the backyard.

The three pieces of Green-Veined Stone had already been buried. The ground had been tamped down and sprinkled with loose soil, making it look no different from the surrounding area. Only he could sense the extremely faint Soul Power slowly gathering toward the center.

The Soul Condensing Grass shoots had yet to emerge.

But he wasn't in a hurry.

There were still six months.

He crouched down and pressed his palm against the soil. Soul Power seeped from his palm in fine strands, penetrating the earth and traveling once along a preset path before finally dissipating.

It wasn't to encourage growth; it was a mark.

Like a beast leaving its scent in its territory. This tiny experimental plot, surrounded by broken roof tiles, was the first "mark" he had left on this world.

Rough and crude.

But it was a starting point.

Footsteps sounded behind him. Lu Qinghe stood beneath the eaves with firewood on his shoulder, watching him.

"Father." Lu Yuan didn't turn around. "After I leave, don't keep hanging around the Soul Master Hall. If Zhao Shi asks anything else, pin it all on me."

"...Mm."

"Once you've saved enough money from the Energy Soup, get a good hoe forged. Your Martial Soul is an iron hoe. A tool that fits your hands will make the work easier."

Lu Qinghe said nothing.

Lu Yuan stood and brushed the dirt from his hands. He walked up to his father and looked up at the man, who was a head and a half taller than him.

"I'll write home," he said. "The academy should have a way to send letters. I might not be able to send one every month, but... I'll do my best."

Lu Qinghe's lips moved, but in the end, he only said:

"Stay safe."

Night deepened.

Lin Xiu finished the last stitch and bit off the thread. She shook out the indigo garment and held it up to the oil lamp. The stitches were crooked, one sleeve was longer than the other, and the neckline was a little too wide.

As she looked at it, she suddenly buried her face in the garment, her shoulders trembling gently.

Lu Yuan stood outside the door and didn't go in.

He looked up at the sky. The night sky over Maple Leaf Town was gray and hazy, with few stars. Tonight, only a handful hung scattered along the horizon, their light so faint it seemed the wind might blow them out at any moment.

But he knew the sky beyond the town should be clearer.

He took a deep breath, turned, and went back inside.

The new garment with one sleeve longer than the other had already been neatly folded by his mother and placed beside his pillow.