Chapter 49 - They Do Exist!

Yang Ru was pleased with himself. He and his sister had arranged for all the food on the list to be picked up in three days’ time, and the cost was only forty-six thousand taels, a staggering sum to him but much less than the budget that Master had given them.

Of course, that success was mainly due to Yang Xiu’s talent at haggling, but Yang Ru had done a nice job of “standing behind her and looking menacing.”

The nice lady as the market had even helped them make sure all of it would fit in the wagons that they had described to her. He thought those would definitely be overloaded for a long trip, but that was okay. Master would probably be storing all of it in his ring anyway once they were out of sight of prying eyes.

Why Master didn’t seem to care if people knew he had a spatial ring but went through much effort to conceal the treasure’s size was beyond Yang Ru’s comprehension, but that lack of understanding was okay. Master was supposed to be unfathomable.

After arranging for the food purchase, they had found a textile shop, and Yang Xiu purchased bolt after bolt of fabric in silver and a few different shades of blue, lamenting the entire time that no one in the city apparently had enough of a single hue for so many robes. Total, the seventy-five bolts cost eight hundred taels, leaving them way under their overall budget.

That they had saved money was good. The most important thing, though, was that their master had given them a task, a learning opportunity, and they hadn’t let him down.

Head held high with his sister trailing him, Yang Ru walked toward the warehouse.

“Don’t look,” Yang Xiu said quietly, “but there’s trouble up ahead to the right.”

Yang Ru looked, spotting a young man wearing a dark green cultivator robe with the symbol of a claw on the left breast. The guy noticed and turned his attention toward the pair. He didn’t look happy.

“I said not to look!”

Honestly, who doesn’t look when someone tells you not to look? If Master had said it, okay, probably not, but his sister?

“This is not good,” Yang Xiu said.



Though he tightened his grip on his spear, Yang Ru wasn’t worried. He had absolute confidence that, as long as he followed Master’s instruction, everything would work out fine, and Master had already given them instructions on how to deal with situations like this one—be polite to everyone but don’t bow to anyone unless he tells you to.

Back in their home village, some people had thought Yang Ru stupid because he was big and didn’t talk much. That wasn’t the case. He understood things fine. It was just that, when they were young, Yang Xiu had talked more than enough for the both of them. Growing up, he’d had to decide whether to fight to get a word in edgewise or just give up on the whole speaking thing.

That was why he’d started grunting.

Obviously, Master hadn’t meant for his instruction to be followed absolutely. As in all things, his disciples were supposed to use judgment. If the City Lord walked by and Master wasn’t there to tell them what to do, they should bow. The same went for a cultivator of a much higher realm.

Unfortunately, neither of the siblings had reached Foundation Establishment, which meant that neither of them had a spiritual sense yet. The primary ways Yang Ru could judge a fellow cultivator’s strength was by apparent age and the power displayed in their movements.

The fellow storming toward them appeared to be similar in age to the siblings, and his walk showed none of the grace and power that characterized Master’s movements. In fact, he didn’t seem to be either as agile as Yang Xiu or as strong as Yang Ru.

He could only surmise that the young man was of a similar or lesser realm.

Likewise, the young man’s status as an obvious member of the Poison Claw Sect did not automatically mean Yang Ru should kowtow. His master had displayed no particular veneration of sect members.

The will of his master was clear.

Yang Ru looked back at his sister and shared a glance that said, “This looks to be a confrontation. I’ll take the lead.” She nodded.

“What are you looking at, gutter trash?” the young man shouted when he arrived within arms’ length. “Why are you not bowing?”


Not an auspicious start to the conversation.

Yang Ru grunted in what he considered to be his most polite manner. Better than hitting the rude guy, anyway.

“Are you defective? You can’t even talk?”

Yang Ru shrugged.

The young man’s face reddened. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll kowtow, gutter trash.”

Yang Ru grunted again but didn’t move.

The cycle of yelled threats followed by indifferent nonverbal responses continued for quite a while with the young man growing angrier and louder by the minute. Yang Ru’s most aggressive visible response was to wipe spittle from his face, but inwardly, he found himself wishing that his master would show up soon to tell him it was time to no longer be polite.

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Watching the young sect member accost Yang Ru, Benton’s emotions swung back and forth between amusement and bemusement. The twins had found a real life arrogant young master. The closest they’d come so far was Fang Wei, but that guy was a mortal and thus couldn’t truly claim the title.

But there was the definitive proof. They did exist!

Benton scanned the idiot.

Age:14Affiliation:Poison Claw SectCultivation:Qi Gathering: Minor Realm SixQi Available:???Techniques:Bend Like the WillowSpiritual Roots:DQi Aspect:Hard but brittle oak standing strong against all elements

Meh. He wasn’t all that impressive, possessing some kind of wood-based movement technique which, from the title, helped dodge blows and spiritual roots that were on the low end of acceptability.



Since sects did not induct anyone under the age of fourteen, the boy must have been cultivating for less than a year. Reaching the same minor realm as the much more talented twins in that amount of time was quite fast. Which meant that resources had been poured into his advancement.

The logical conclusion was that he was the son of someone important. That deduction was further evidenced by his horrendous attitude. He clearly acted like one supremely unused to hearing the word “no.”

What did impress Benton was Yang Ru’s behavior. Three things stood out about his disciple. One, the kid had the patience of a saint. Benton would have decked the guy by that point. Two, the kid had no fear. The sect member might as well have been a fly buzzing his ear for all the reaction Yang Ru showed. And three, damn did that kid follow instructions well. He really took that lesson when he’d had his spear taken away to heart.

Behind them, Yang Xiu did not appear to be handling things nearly so tranquilly. Benton was pretty sure that the only reason she hadn’t stepped in was because her brother had taken the lead, which was actually a small surprise. Since they encountered the sect member in a social situation, he would have thought that Yang Xiu would have taken the lead.

The two definitely had developed a complicated hierarchy of who was in charge based on the circumstances. As long as it worked for them, he didn’t have to understand it.

It was actually kind of fun watching a member of a supposedly prestigious sect totally lose it in public. The guy was apoplectic, looking like nothing more than a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

If he was representative of the quality of the Poison Claw Sect, Benton didn’t think much of the organization.

The other interesting thing was the attitude of the passersby to the ranting lunatic. Everyone kept a respectful distance and obviously didn’t do anything overt to attract his attention, but the glances shot his way held as much disdain as fear.

Maybe scenes like the one playing out weren’t as common as stories back on Earth made it seem.

“This Master Cultivator tires of this charade, gutter trash.” The fool unsheathed a very nice blade. “Give me your spear as a token of your respect or suffer the consequences.”

Benton shook his head. From spoiled brat to highwayman in one sentence.

Yang Ru simply said, “No.”

“Then prepare to die!”

Uh oh. That was Benton’s cue to act.

Stifling the absurd desire to yell, “He didn’t kill your father,” Benton silently raced toward the idiot, catching Yang Ru’s eye as he did. Beyond the merest twitch of a head nod, his disciple didn’t move an inch.

The amount of faith the kid had in Benton was insane.

Of course, he couldn’t let the kid down after that. As the blade swung hard and fast toward Yang Ru’s neck, Benton grabbed the offending wrist just before metal could contact skin.

A bone in the cultivator’s arm snapped as its forward motion simply ceased immediately. The sect member cried out in pain, and the sword fell to the ground with a clang.

The boy spun, clutching his wrist with his opposite hand. “Who dares lay a hand on this Master Cultivator? Who! Dares!”

“You spoiled, ignorant child. I dare. In fact, I dare you to call me gutter trash like you did my disciple. Your head will roll before you get the first syllable out of your mouth.”

The boy started to speak.

“Calm down and think before you say a word,” Benton said. “Seriously. This moment might be the most important one, or the last one, of your life. Be calm. Think.”

The boy earned at least a modicum of credit by taking a deep breath before speaking. “You can’t do this to me.”

“Well, that’s just a patently untrue statement. Clearly, I did do that to you, so my ability to do it has been conclusively proven.”



“Once my master finds out about this—”

“If he pulls a sword on me or my disciple, I’ll guarantee you I’ll do the same thing to him.”

“You can’t—”

“You have no idea what I can and cannot do. You’re in the Qi Gathering realm. Your spiritual sense is literally non-existent. You have no information about me. None. Think about the fact that I know nothing about your master, yet I am absolutely confident that he is a non-issue for me. Is he Foundation Establishment? I don’t care. Is he Golden Core? I don’t care. Think.”

Benton saying he didn’t care at all about the master’s cultivation was a bit of an exaggeration in that he only had enough points to instantly advance to the fourth minor realm of Golden Core, but he also knew that no one would be able to get a read on his cultivation. That fact alone would give any cultivator pause. Generally, if one couldn’t determine an opponent’s cultivation level, it meant that one was outclassed by a minimum of a major realm.

For the first time since Benton arrived at the site of the confrontation, the kid seemed to realize he might actually have screwed up. “But you’re not a member of a sect.”

“Okay, genius, how did you arrive at that conclusion? Because we’re not wearing robes from one of the sects in this area? The world is a big place. There are lots of sects. Lots and lots and lots of sects, many of which make yours seem trivially small. How do you know I don’t belong to one of them?”

The boy’s mouth gaped open and closed like a fish.

“Exactly. Think. There are more mysteries in this world than you can fathom. You tempted fate today. Watch yourself in the future.”

He inclined his head. “This one apologizes, Esteemed Cultivator.”

As Benton was about to respond to let the boy off the hook, a shadow passed overhead, and a green robed man riding a flying sword descended. The boy grinned.

It appeared that the cultivator’s master had arrived.