Chapter 7 - Empty Seat

"If you wish to measure a child's worth, do not test his Qi. Test how he treats the boy who failed."

– Mistress Löwe, Educator of the Ten Thousand Springs School

*Theo POV*

The morning sun slanted through the glass windows of the daycare, refracting patterns onto the polished, wooden planks of the floor. Dust motes danced in the air, a ballet of microscopic proportions, bathing in the warm, golden light. The chair beside me creaked slightly whenever I shuffled in my seat, but it remained empty.

We'd only shared that seat for a couple days, but now, with Rich gone, the emptiness there was bounds louder than the sound of playing children.

"Is he sick today?" asked a girl beside me.

"I... I'm not sure," I reply, forcing a smile in response to the girl who had already turned away and rejoined the flock of toddlers. Another game of Cultivators and Monsters, but I didn't feel like joining in. I sigh, and continue trying to finish reading "Hui the Hare", this time without a voice interrupting me if I said things wrong.

Outside the tall window, a soft wind stirred the garden leaves. The same wind that had once lifted me in my dream felt impossibly far away now.

*Richard POV*

At home, the house was quiet - almost reverent in nature, or perhaps in a silence mourning. Morning light filtered in through the kitchen window, illuminating the prepared breakfast on the table. Eggs again. Today, the chairs remained tucked in.

I'd said I had a headache. No one questioned it.

Johanna and Gertherd had gone to work early today, leaving me alone at home with breakfast and a packed lunch in case I felt peckish. The house felt so empty. I lived alone in my previous life, but I must have got used to having people constantly around me now. As much as I hate to admit it, I miss them, or anyone really. If I were at daycare right now, I'd probably be reading with Theo, but instead I'm just lying in bed.

Then, it hits me. I didn't have any Qi in my previous life, yet somehow I managed to say some spell which got me here in the first place. Surely there's something I can do. I would have to experiment to see if I could get things to work, and, fortunately for me, the house was free for another couple hours.

***

The room was quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood cooling from the day's heat

After hastily shoving breakfast down my throat, I find myself sat in the living room, right by the fireplace, in a lotus position.

Frau Isolde had made us sit crosslegged, so perhaps some other Xianxia logic works here as well. Unfortuantely, I don't have any scriptures or mantras memorised. If only I had known that one day I'd be in this position... I would have learnt more about Buddhism than the Dalai Lama in advance. Oh well, no time for regrets.

I'm sat there, lotus position, fingers steepled, back straight, envisaging the layout of my body - the location of a Dantian below my navel, a network of Meridians like veins and channels throughout my body, interconnecting between all organs and the opening up to the outside world, a Third Eye at my forehead containing my mental energy, a Heavenly Gate at the crown of my head storing my enlightenment, and Duality Points at the soles of my feet and my palms. Golden rivers flow from my Dantian outward through meridian paths.

Breathe in...

The air moved through me slowly. I imagined it carrying invisible threads of energy down my throat, through to the lungs, and diffusing across my entire body.

Breathe out...

I imagine the air around me coalescing in one spot - in my Dantian, before being expelled back to the outside world. I imagined a boundless and luminous sea at my navel, willing it to ripple, to respond to me with a hint of life.

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

In... Out... In... Out... But nothing came of it. I punch a pillow in frustration, making sure not to damage anything in case it angers my parents.

I shifted tactics, throwing away the idea of visualising cultivation clichés, and think to the condition of my body. As I am still a child, my body shouldn't have much pollution, so I need only nourish myself with mystical plants to attune by body to the natural Qi around me. My target, the pantry.

***

Big mistake. Eating questionable herbs and raw carrots does not give you a Dantian at the navel, but, rather, stomach pain.

*Theo POV*

Time at the daycare passed so slowly, but it passed nevertheless. I had sat there, uninterrupted, going through all of the graded readers the daycare had provided for us, and was now somewhat confident in reading. But why did I feel no sense of satisfaction? No sense of achievement? What's the point of learning all this when no one is next to me to share it all with?

I meet mother at the gate, and I can tell she also notices his absence. She asks me what I did all day, and I updated her on my reading progress, to which she smiles.

"Soon, you'll be spending more time in the study than swinging your sword! Enjoy your reading time whilst you can - we're getting a tutor for you to learn cultivation once you're a little bit older."

Cultivation. Is that really something so important? It was fun, yes so fun, to travel with the wind in that dream, but, at the same time, it's so unfair. I know I'm not that clever. No one I've met was as clever, as intelligent, as Rich is. He has to have something special - it's so obvious to me that there's something about him. I refuse to believe he can't cultivate.

When I get my tutor, I'm going to teach Rich everything, just like how he taught me how to read. Then, we'll see if he really can't cultivate!

And if I can't cultivate with Rich, then I won't cultivate until he can!

*Richard POV*

Eventually, dusk was setting, and I was out of options to awaken my spiritual sense. But I refuse to give up. There's definitely a way for me to start cultivating, and I won't stop until I can.

But for now, I'll have to give it a pause, as my parents arrived home, and it would be extremely embarrassing to be caught sat there in a lotus position like some deluded child. Instead, I cleaned up and hid all evidence I had ever attempted any odd ritual, and ran to the door to greet my parents with a hug.

Immediately all the worry on their faces disappeared. I could see their eye bags, and I had heard their tears, so I knew they were worried. It made me feel guilty, and it's not that difficult to play my role as their child, to pretend to be overjoyed in order to make them feel better. And, to be honest, I also really needed a hug.

***

The smell of braised cabbage and roasted fowl wafted through the small house, clinging to the wooden beams like a hearty perfume. Johanna set down a warm iron pot brimming with browned root vegetables and herbed gravy. A crusty flatbread, flecked with wild garlic and gristle salt, steamed gently beside a bowl of butter softened from sitting near the hearth. To a noble, it may have seemed like a modest meal, but to us, it was a world of luxury.

No one mentioned Qi. No cultivation, no roots, no nothing. We spoke of ordinary things.

Johanna chatted about the bakery down the road - that they'd started adding dried plums to their morning rolls, and spoke about one of the elderly neighbours, whose granddaughter is getting married to a leatherworker one village away. Gertherd mentioned how a carp had jumped from the river to his bucket, which led to a debate on whether that was good luck or bad luck.

Then, Johanna leaned in towards me, resting her chin in her hand. "And what about you, Rich. What do you think you'll do when you're older?"

I sit there, stunned. I hadn't really thought through this much. Even back on Earth, I wasn't sure. Yes, I went to university, but that's because everyone did. But maybe, just maybe I could leverage my knowledge from modern day Earth to get a good income of sorts.

"I... I don't know yet. I think - I think I might want to invent something, or maybe become an author of sorts."

"Stories, eh?" chimed Gertherd, ripping off a chunk of bread to dip into the stew. "Not a bad life. And inventing, well that's a very noble calling. But a very dangerous one too."

"Dangerous, what do you mean, dad?" I ask, puzzled by his response.

"Well," said Gertherd, wiping his fingers, "you know the man who invented the bicycle? What was his name again? Oh, that's right, Kaspar von Krauss. Not a cultivator, not at first. Just a clever bast- *ahem* a clever man with a bit of gear oil and a dream. Made himself a moving machine that didn't need an animal - no horse, no oxen, just two legs on a person. The clans hated him for it at first."

"But why?"

"You'll understand a bit more when you're older. But the gist of it is: because it worked. It worked too well, and suddenly it was cutting into transport profits for the clans who'd lease out lots of caravans. Initially, they banned bicycles on bridges, boats, and everything they owned, but Krauss went straight to the Imperial Registry and got a patent under mortal law!"

"There's a mortal patent law? But aren't cultivators strong enough to just... ignore it?" In my eyes, you had to have power to set laws, but mortals are meant to be mere ants in front of cultivators.

"There is. Doesn't mean much to the clans, but, once you're sponsored like Krauss was, the clans respect it a bit more. Kraus caught the eye of an old cultivator lady from the Lichtenhöhl Sect. Liked his thinking. Said the world needed more mortals who could shift fate with clever hands instead of swords. Took him under her wing. And what do you know - he ends up cultivating after all. Word is, he ascended"

I gasp in shock. "Just from building bicycles?"

"Well, bicycles and willpower. Not just anyone can be like Krauss. But maybe you've got it in you - you're already a smart boy. That's my son for you."

Johanna interjected with a chuckle. "Don't give the boy ideas, Gert!"

Too late. I had some direction now. Invent, make money, get noticed by cultivators who'll surely know of a way to fix me, and then ascend and go back home. Sounds simple enough.

We finished the meal in a light silence, the flames at the hearth lighting up the room, flickering our shadows stretched out across the walls.

And, for the first time, there may be a way forward after all.