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Unintended Cultivator Vol 10: Chapter 39 – Gratitude
🕑 Added 2024-11-05 05:04:40 +0000 UTCSen’s command to gather up members and soldiers of that house, something he’d considered relatively straightforward, turned in another round of bickering. He wasn’t sure if it was the tenth or twentieth or five hundredth glance his way that made him realize that his presence wasn’t helping. The realization did come, though, and he simply walked out of the room. There was probably some nice, quiet, soothing place he could have retreated to in the palace. There almost had to be such a location in a place filled with intrigue. It seemed impossible that anyone could maintain their sanity otherwise. Unfortunately, he didn’t know where to find that room or garden. He only knew where one room was, so he reluctantly retreated to that room. A command to leave and a miniscule release of his killing intent was enough to send everyone scurrying away.
Sen had considered exploring for a while. The idea of getting lost and needing to be retrieved kept him from it, though. He was relatively confident it would undermine him. Instead, he stood a few feet from the steps to the throne and stared at the glorified chair. It was ornate, inlaid with gold, mother-of-pearl, and other things Sen didn’t immediately recognize. It was still much more comfortable-looking than the last throne had been with its thick cushions. He stood there for a time and did his best to still his swirling thoughts. There was so much to do, and he found himself waiting for other people to accomplish simple tasks. He wondered if all rulers were hampered that way. Eventually, he heard someone come in.
“Will you sit in it?” asked Jing.
Sen thought that was a very measured way of asking if his seizing of power was for real. He considered his answer for a lot longer than was truly necessary, mostly for his friend’s sake.
“I can’t say I’m particularly eager to do so,” said Sen.
“No?” asked Jing.
“You know, the kids where I grew up, I listened to them talking. They’d make up stories about becoming cultivators or heroes or becoming kings. I never understood that. I never dreamed about growing powerful or famous. I never wanted to be a king. I had different dreams.”
“What did you dream about?”
Sen turned to look at Jing, offered a wan smile, and sat down on the steps to the throne.
“I dreamed about having a name.”
“A name?” asked Jing, clearly confused.
“A family name. I grew up without one. I was just Sen for my entire childhood. You don’t understand how precious a family name is until you live without one. I wanted a family name so that I could, maybe, one day, find a profession. Maybe even find a wife whose family wouldn’t look too poorly on a street rat with no family or history to call his own. Those were my dreams. I imagine they seem pretty trivial.”
“No family name,” muttered Jing. “What about Lu?”
Sen smiled and said, “The woman I call my grandmother. She told me I could take her name. It was probably the kindest thing anyone ever did for me. Objectively, I know that Master Feng did more for me. He made me a cultivator, after all, but being a cultivator brings a lot of trouble with it. What she did was different. She gave me—” Sen struggled to find the right word.
“Identity,” said Jing.
“Yes. She gave me an identity. I wasn’t half a person anymore. I wasn’t just Sen. I was Lu Sen. I had a family. It might have only been a family that consisted of her and me, but it was my family. I think I’ll always be more grateful to Grandmother Lu than anyone else. Although, I’m not sure I’ve done a very good job of repaying that gratitude.”
“Gratitude is tricky,” said Jing.
Sen looked at the king. He could see the bitterness on the man’s face. Earned bitterness. Sen couldn’t find it in himself to blame him. After all, he was stealing what Jing’s family had built, bled for, and even died for over the centuries. Worse, he wasn’t some conqueror who rode out of the south or over the Mountains of Sorrow. He wasn’t some stranger. He was a friend. Who wouldn’t be bitter about that? If only the alternatives weren’t so much worse, thought Sen.
“It is a tricky thing,” agreed Sen.
Jing was silent for a long moment before he finally said, “There’s a part of me that hates you. I know that something like this is necessary. I can list all the reasons for it. They’re good reasons. I know with absolute certainty that this city would fall if someone wasn’t here to unite everyone in a common cause. I’m even happy that it’s happening because I don’t want to see all of these people die for nothing.”
“But,” prompted Sen.
“But I can’t help feeling like you’re betraying me. I helped you. I was a friend to you. And now this!” shouted Jing, thrusting a finger at the throne. “I had to kill my father and my brother, to say nothing of imprisoning family, to get that throne. And let’s not pretend that you weren’t the hand in the shadows guiding all of that. Hells, you all but threw me into that damn chair. Then, after all that, you’re taking it from me! It all feels like some kind of plan that I don’t understand. Either that, or just wanton cruelty. If you wanted the throne and knew this was coming, you could have just waited and killed my father yourself.”
Jing was pale and breathing hard. Sen wondered how long the man had been holding all of that in. Some of it was probably years in the making, thought Sen. Our sins are never really forgotten, are they? He let Jing have a minute to compose himself before speaking.
“I can see how it might look that way. It wasn’t a plan. Hells, I never wanted to come back to this city. As for taking the throne,” said Sen, “tell me another way, any other way to save this place. I will listen.”
A confusing mix of emotions battled for supremacy on Jing’s face before settling on defeat. The king walked over and sat down on the steps next to Sen.
“You would listen, wouldn’t you? If I had some viable alternative, you’d really consider it.”
“I would.”
“I haven’t thought of one,” said Jing with a sigh. “Only the twin threats of Fate’s Razor and Judgment’s Gale have kept things from descending into anarchy already.”
“You might be giving me too much credit,” said Sen, feeling uncomfortable with the idea that his very name was a threat to be wielded.
“I’m not,” said Jing. “Don’t let the others see that humility.”
“I won’t.”
There was hesitation on Jing’s face when he asked the thing that Sen was certain he had initially come to ask.
“Do you really mean to execute that entire house?”
Sen had to steel his resolve again before he said, “If I must.”
A frown stole across the king’s face and he asked, “What does that mean?”
“It means that I cannot be lenient. If someone opposes me the way that man did, I must make an example. If people think that I’ll be forgiving or kind, this whole thing falls apart.”
“But you make it sound like there’s some other way out of killing all of those people.”
“Like I said, I cannot be lenient out of kindness or forgiveness. I can hope that someone will intervene to convince me to spare them on other grounds.”
“I can—”
“It can’t be you,” said Sen with a sad shake of his head.
“Why not?” demanded Jing.
“Because you’re my friend, and people know that you’re my friend.”
Jing opened his mouth before he slowly closed his eyes, “You can’t look sentimental.”
“I’m not like you. I have no real relationship with anyone in this kingdom. People have heard stories about me but that’s it. I know that ruling through fear is the least optimal way to do things, but I don’t have generations to build trust and loyalty. And none of us can afford for there to be division. It means annihilation.”
“If it can’t be me, and I assume it can’t be your grandmother, who can it be?”
“If I knew that, I’d be colluding with them right now,” said Sen.
He’d had a few thoughts about who he might get for the role, but the list was short and the options weren’t ideal. He had few friends and allies in the capital, and those relationships were well-known. He wished Master Feng was here. If Master Feng intervened, no one would question it, but he wasn’t certain where the elder cultivator was at the moment. At this point, all he had was hope that someone might give him the excuse not to kill all of those people. He just wished he didn’t know what a flimsy shield hope was in the face of reality.
Comments
Trevor Mergen
Thanks!
BelligerentGnu
A person immediately springs to mind - what about Helpful Noble House Matron whose name I can't recall? The one who gave intelligence on the conspirators who bombed Lu manor.
Angela Roberts
This is a good scene. These two, in another life, would be the best of friends, but here they are, struggling with the same horrendous issue from opposite sides even though they want the same thing. At least they now know how each other feels, and Sen can be assured that Jing understands why he's acting this way. Not much comfort, but some.
Barbara Collier
Well done!
Magisch
I can feel the conflict of these two being thrust into situations neither of them want. This is really good.
Jeremy Young
Ohh, I can feel Jings internal conflicts. Nicely written
Bunny Waffles
Sen having to speed run cultivation really bites him in the ass sometimes. Not enough time
