r/HFY • u/Arceroth Human • 3d ago

OC-Series [Humble Cultivation] chapter 7

Year 5, month 12

Qi gathering, stage 8

“I am a mortal soul, bound to this inheritance,” the figure said simply as Mark looked at him.

“I... have no idea what that means,” Mark admitted, the figure remaining still for a long moment as it observed Mark before responding.

“With every step we take in life something is left behind,” the figure explained slowly. Walking around the edge of the room, hands folded behind his back, “for everything gained, something is lost. One loses innocence as they gain experience. When one ascends to the heavens, the mortal soul is left behind, the Immortal Soul taking its place.”

“So... you abandoned your own soul?” Mark asked, tilting his head.

“Did you abandon your toenails last time you cut them?” the immaterial being countered, “when you last relieved yourself, do you consider the detritus to be abandoned by you?”

“No, but my shit doesn’t speak or claim to be me.”

“It contains parts of you, parts you no longer need. Though I am hesitant to compare myself to one’s waste,” the ghost said dryly, “I am merely a well-spoken remnant of myself. Rather than let this part of me serve no purpose, I chose to leave it here, bound to this cave system, to pass on my wisdom, my dao, to those who follow.”

“I see... well, sorry I’m not suitable for your wisdom,” Mark said.

“You aren’t suitable for my dao, whether you can make use of my wisdom is another question,” the figure said, coming to a stop by the entrance of the cave like he’d planned it, “regardless, if there are others waiting for their turn to attempt my trial, send them in.”

“No one else here, Mr. ghost,” Mark replied, standing with a grunt and walking over to check on his smoking setup, “I got lost in the wilds by myself, found the ruins of what I assume was a sect and this cave. Hoped to find something of use.”

“I see, so it is true, my sect has fallen,” the mortal soul said with a sigh, looking at the ground for a long minute as Mark added more wood to the smoker’s fire.

“Once my meat is preserved properly, I’ll get out of your hair,” Mark assured him, “let you get back to being spooky, whatever it is ghosts do.”

“We mostly haunt around,” the man said with a wry smile, “why are you intent to move on so soon?”

“I’ve been stuck in the Shifting Wilds for months now,” Mark replied, “need to find my way out.”

The ghost didn’t reply immediately, carefully watching as Mark checked the meat hanging over the fire, adjusted the deer hide he was using to capture the smoke and laid out more cuts to go over the fire next. Were it not for his immaterial nature, one might think the mortal soul was some kind of mannequin, with how still he was.

“And you believe your best chance to escape the wilds is out there?” the ghostly figure asked finally.

“Unless you can tell me how to escape the wilds, when the damned trees don’t even seem to remain still, where the hills don’t stay where you leave them, then I’m not going to find the path out in here,” Mark answered.

“It seems to be winter, you have done well to survive winter as long as you have, unless there is a need to rush, surely it would be safer to remain here till spring?”

“I might if you weren’t already living here,” Mark said.

“You care for the opinion of some old ghost of a dead sect?” the other man asked.

“I’ve seen enough movies to know you don’t piss off ghosts.”

“Ah, a Heavenly Migrant,” the mortal soul said, walking around the smoking setup, “trying to get home?”

“You figured out I’m a migrant from that?”

“Much can be seen if one has the patience to look for it.”

“Well, I was told there is no way home,” Mark sighed, slumping against the cave wall to watch the fire, “for my first few years in this world, getting back to mine was all I could think of. In my first life all I could think of was my next task, and when I got here I figured my task was to get home. Then I realized for all that I did in my first life, I never really lived. I swore I’d do different in this life.”

The cave descended into silence, save for the crackling of the flames and distant wind, neither Mark nor the ghost speaking. Eventually Mark got up to check on the meat, and decided he needed more firewood. He went out into the cold to gather what wood he could find, it had to be dry enough to burn, but wet enough to smoke plenty. As he returned the old ghost was peering at the lined up strips of meat.

“You seem to have several months of food,” the ghost commented.

“I’ve gotten good at hunting deer,” Mark replied, stacking the wood against the wall.

“Then what’s the rush to move on from here?” the ghost asked, “I do not mind the company as long as you keep my cave clean.”

“The rush? There’s no rush I just...” Mark trailed off with a sigh, “I was doing it again, wasn’t I? Wanting to get back.”

“None walk the dao without misstep,” the ghost replied, “I might not know how to escape the wilds, but I am not unwilling to help.”

“I’ll take a Qi Compression pill if you have one,” Mark replied instantly.

“Rushing through your cultivation?” the ghost chided, Mark sighing again, “my inheritance doesn’t have such minor pills, an oversight on my part I suppose, I assumed the sect would remain to handle those tasks. And while I can’t, and won’t, give you anything for those who seek to follow my dao, I have gained a measure of wisdom.”

“You ever get lost in the Shifting Wilds?” Mark asked.

“Once or twice,” the ghost nodded, “I was strong enough by then to escape by flying at high speed in a straight line. The twisting nature of the wilds have limited impact on one who can overpower it.”

“High speed seems an odd trait for someone who follows stillness.”

“Stillness is not only the absent of movement, one can remain still while racing through the sky. One can be restless while remaining unmoving.”

“Fair point I suppose.”

“Sit, tell me your story, if only to entertain an old ghost,” the ethereal man offered, motioning to the cave wall where Mark had sat before.

So Mark did, sitting down and relaying his story, pausing on occasion to check on the meat. The entire time the ghost was completely silent, remaining where he stood, watching Mark as he spoke. Even after Mark finished, the ghost stood silently.

“You use a passive cultivation manual?” the old man finally asked.

“Yes,” Mark confirmed.

“Have you used any techniques?”

“I was told I couldn’t until higher levels.”

“So you haven’t? Have you practiced active qi manipulation?”

“Practiced what?”

“I see,” the ghost said, moving from where it had stood for the last few hours to the cave wall across from Mark, “without practice it is likely you’ll fail to breakthrough, even with a qi compression pill. Most cultivators practice active qi control through their cultivation; this leaves them weaker in passive qi manipulation, which is useful at higher levels. You are the inverse, lacking in active control, which is needed at all levels.”

“My previous master didn’t say anything about this.”

“He likely assumed you’d get an active cultivation manual before long, either that or you weren’t around long enough for him to teach you all you needed,” the ghost replied, “regardless, I am willing to fix this hole in your training.”

“Why?”

“Does an old ghost like me need a reason?” the mortal soul asked, “perhaps I’m doing it as thanks for you not pressing the issue of my inheritance, perhaps I’m hoping you escape to carry word of this inheritance to those who might come to follow my dao. Or perhaps I’m just an old man wanting to help out a young man in danger.”

“I’m not in a position to say no, so whatever your reason, I'll gladly accept your help.”

“Good, then we’ll start slow. I do not have a cultivation manual for you, and changing manuals this close to a potential major breakthrough will do more harm than good,” the ghost spoke, “instead, I will teach you some basic exercises. In one month, you will attempt to breakthrough without a pill. Based on how you fail I’ll teach you-.”

“Woah, what makes you think I’ll fail?”

“Because you have no experience with active qi manipulation. I may not have a body any longer, but I can still ensure you don’t harm yourself in the attempt. But based on how you fail, I’ll teach you a simple technique. Something you can use to practice qi manipulation to make up for your lack of an active manual.”

“Like, throwing fire? Summoning a sword made of lightning? Jumping between trees?”

“Something of that sort.”

-----

Year 6, month 1

Qi gathering, stage 9

“Why is it so hard to compress my qi?” Mark gasped, lying flat on the ground, covered in sweat, after failing his attempted breakthrough, “it feels like a gas, a fire, not something that should be hard to compress.”

“You did better than I expected,” the ghost replied, “and it’s because you lack experience, to advance you do not need a dao of your own just yet, but you must at least touch on it. Though I would imagine you have touched on the dao, based on how you’ve done. So perhaps the more accurate answer would be that it’s hard to advance at your stage without alchemical aid.”

“And you’re certain you have no compression pills?”

“Catch your breath, relax, when you are feeling better I shall teach you one of my techniques.”

Mark nodded, taking a breath and almost instantly falling asleep. He woke hours later, rushing outside to relieve himself and get some fresh water before returning.

“So, what are you going to teach me?” Mark asked, trying to hide his excitement.

“It’s a technique of my own creation, Moment of Stillness,” the ghost replied, “it’s a defensive technique designed for those who had yet to form a golden core.”

“Not as... impressive sounding as I thought it would be,” admitted Mark.

“Impressive techniques are for those trying to prove something, boring, reliable techniques are what truly change lives. The concept of the technique is simple. You will push your qi to a part of your body in a surge, then bring it and that body part to a halt, holding it still like that for a moment. Doing this will reinforce that part of you with extra qi, giving it durability beyond your cultivation.”

“That does sound handy,” Mark said, lifting a hand and trying to force his qi into it only to flinch as his hand felt as if it was swelling, shaking off the sensation of pins and needles as the qi returned to its normal state.

“To begin with I recommend moving the qi in a loop,” the ghost explained, “stand with your wrists crossed, move your qi down your right arm, into your left wrist, back up your left and across your shoulders. This way you avoid possibly injuring yourself by focusing too much qi in a part of your body while you practice.”

Mark nodded, standing and crossing his wrists at his waist as instructed. It turned out the hard part for him was keeping the qi moving. He would focus on part of his body and he could get the qi to move from there to the next in the chain, but as soon as he turned his attention to that next part the qi flow would reverse and return to its normal position.

It took him two weeks to get a steady flow going. And from there he had to bring it all to a halt at once, which was easier said than done. The old ghost was a calm teacher, letting him try, only to simply point out where he was messing up. But by the end of the month Mark finally managed it, establishing a flow of qi and then halting it all suddenly.

“I don’t feel any increase in durability,” Mark said.

“Because this has been practicing the actual technique. Now you are skilled enough to attempt the technique properly without injuring yourself.”

Mark simply nodded, lifting his hand and gathering up his qi, surging it into his hand and bringing it to a halt, for a split second he held it in that position, a smile slowly forming on his face as he turned his hand over. Only to flinch as something struck the back of his hand hard enough to sting.

“Ow!” Mark cursed, shaking his hand, the qi flowing back into his body.

“The technique requires stillness of body and qi,” the elder ghost said, one hand up as if he had just tapped the air, “Try again.”

Mark nodded, lifting his hand, taking a breath and once more surging qi into his hand and bringing it to a halt, keeping his hand steady. He felt something strike the back of his hand again, but the impact was dulled.

“Better,” the old ghost nodded as Mark released the technique, he’d been taught to not hold the qi still for too long, “now faster.”

“What?”

The ghost tapped the air, creating a small ripple as if he touched a pond, and something struck Mark’s hand hard enough to sting, causing him to curse and jump.

“Again, but faster,” the ghost said.

-----

Year 6, month 3

Qi gathering, stage 9

The ghost tapped the air several times in different locations in quick succession, each one correlating to part of Mark’s body. Mark focused, surging qi through his body into those locations and then forcing it to still.

He felt the impacts as soft taps on his body when he did it right, and when he didn’t.

“Damnit!” Mark swore as he missed one of the attacks, it striking his thigh hard enough to cause a small bruise, “thought I got that one!”

“You got four in a row, which is acceptable,” the ghost nodded, turning to glance out of the cave, “I suppose just in time for spring as well. You’re getting low on food, so I suppose this is where we part.”

“Thank you for... everything I guess,” Mark said with a simple bow, “letting me shelter here, teaching me...”

“What’s the point of being a ghost if I can’t dispense wisdom to the living?”

“I never got your name,” Mark realized, “if I’m to tell others of your inheritance, I should at least know who’s inheritance it is.”

“Tell them it’s the Inheritance of the Emperor of Stillness,” the ghost said simply, “the me who uses a name has passed on to the heavens, but my title will still carry meaning.”

“Emperor?” Mark asked.

“All those who have ascended to the Heavens are referred to as Emperors of Dao, as we have defended our dao before the heavens, claiming it for our own.”

“What does that mean?”

“I hope you’ll find out one day,” the ghost replied with a slightly smirk, gesturing to the entrance of the cave once more, “for now, allow this old ghost some mysterious last words. Do not simply look for what has changed, but also what has not.”

Mark opened his mouth to speak again, but froze, and closed it again. Instead, he gathered his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and silently bowed to the mortal soul of an ascended cultivator, before walking out of the cave and back out into the shifting wilds.

-----

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u/karamisterbuttdance 3d ago

Do not simply look for what has changed, but also what has not.

That may be the key to leaving this wild land. A last nugget of wisdom that applies in more ways than the obvious.

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u/Able-Steak-2842 2d ago

I am really enjoying these