“Do you like it?” Gwen asked in a small voice. “I’ve never tried growing midnight glory before, but it looks about right to me? The seeds are a little bigger than the books say they should be, and the leaves are the wrong shade of green, but I tried a few cuttings and I think the properties are all as they should be.”

  “You grew this?” Calvin checked, finger still hovering over one of the flower’s broad leaves. Most of his focus was on what the Scroll was telling him, delving into the details it revealed about the herbs nature, but he didn’t want to leave Gwen hanging.

  “Yes, senior brother,” she confirmed. “I purchased a small cutting from the sect and have had some small success propagating it in my garden.”

  Some small success, was it? That was…curious.

  “It’s a fine specimen. I’ll have to add it to my personal garden.” It was possibly the healthiest spiritual herb he’d ever seen, bar none. Normal midnight glory—the herb’s common name—was moderately useful at best, valued more for versatility than power. The seeds could be ground up to produce a paste that helped draw foreign qi out of wounds, the leaves were moderately compatible with the Eight Peaks Tempering method, and the flower petals could be brewed into an herbal tea that soothed the spirit and, more critically, helped extract impurities from the body. All three components also had some uses in alchemy, but he wasn’t familiar with any specifics.

  This midnight glory? He had no idea. It would certainly be more effective for all those previous uses, but perhaps it may even have additional beneficial properties. All the other plants he’d examined had been of Very or Extremely Low quality. He hadn’t even realized midnight glory could be of such high quality.

  As useful as it was, he sometimes wished the Scroll would be a little bit less ambiguous with its rating system. For instance, this herb. The Scroll rated it as Average, but what did that really mean? Was it average compared to all other midnight glory? He certainly didn’t think it was.

  As far as he could tell, there was some sort of additional rating factor in play. This midnight glory might be a prime example of its kind, but at the end of the day it was only considered a low to mid Foundation realm herb. He doubted that such a herb, no matter how exceptional, could get much better than Average quality. Similarly, a truly exceptional herb like the Divine Gold Nine-Petal Yin Lotus might not stack up well against another of its kind, but at the end of the day it was still a treasure worthy of a Fifth or even Sixth realm cultivator. To rate it anything below perhaps Very High quality would be unthinkable.

  He very carefully lifted his thumb away from the leaf and made to close the box, then paused. “Will it be alright in here for a few more hours?” he asked, tapping the side of the box.

  Gwen hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “It should be?”

  “Should?”

  She blushed and looked at the floor. “I…yes, it will be fine.” She bit her lip, then with more surety added, “Just if you’re not planning to harvest it immediately, make sure it’s out of the box and somewhere with a clear view of the sky before the sun sets. Midnight glory doesn’t need much sunlight, though it doesn’t mind it, but it should get as much moon and starlight as it can.”

  “I can make that happen.” Hopefully the skylight in his garden room would be sufficient, because he was loath to leave such a treasure out where just anyone could see it. He trusted Mei and Jane well enough, but it was best not to tempt fate.

  He closed the box and set it aside, grabbing his own gift as he did so. “Thank you, junior sister. It is a wonderful gift. What kind of senior would I be if I did not offer one in return?”

  He presented the pouch, and once again Gwen hesitated. “Senior brother…”

  Whether she had just gotten lucky or however else she’d produced that herb, it was clear Gwen had no idea of the value of what she’d just given him. Though the sect would certainly buy it from her at the cost of a usual midnight glory, Calvin didn’t want to cheat her quite so blatantly. The value of these pills was certainly closer than what they’d offer her, but it was still an utter scam. “I insist, sister Gwen.”

  She still didn’t move to take the pouch, so Calvin decided to take some initiative. He took a step closer, grabbed one of her hands, and placed the pouch in it, closing her fingers around it. “I prepared these pills just for you, to ease your path and breakthrough. I would be deeply disappointed to know your advancement was not as successful as it could have been because your preparations and resources were insufficient.”

  Gwen looked down at the pouch, her hand clasped in his larger ones, then up at him. Her cheeks were the brightest red Calvin had ever seen then, the flush extending down her neck and around her collarbone, and her eyes were as big and round as silver sovereigns. “S-senior br-brother!” she stammered, but he didn’t let go, looking down into her eyes.

  “The advancement from Gathering to Foundation may not be as complex as later breakthroughs, but it is still not something to be taken lightly. You are at a critical stage in your cultivation. A failure here can permanently cut off your immortal path. Do you understand?”

  Gwen nodded rapidly, her head moving so quickly that her hair whipped around behind her. “I understand, senior brother. Thank you for your gift. I will make sure to put it to good use.”

  “Good.” He released his grip on her hand and took a step back. “Now then, how about you tell me a little more about how you tend to such a fine midnight glory over tea, and then we can return to our original reason for this meeting.”

  Gwen, relieved by the sudden change in topic, was only too eager to agree.

  Calvin made tea the way he had ever since he’d first stepped into the Foundation realm. At first it had been an exercise of wonder, marveling at what he could do now once he no longer had to scrape and scramble for every drop of available qi. Then it had gained a more practical aspect, just another way to incorporate more training—in this case of fine control—into his everyday routine. Now it just felt practical, faster and easier than doing it the mortal way, plus it did make a good party trick.

  He picked out a bundle of tea he’d prepared ahead of time—a mix of red and violet flower petals he’d hand picked from one of the sect’s rainbow raindrop birch trees, a balanced selection of bits of dried fruit, and a small quantity of actual tea leaves—and placed it into the second extremely fancy but ultimately nearly mortal tea pot he’d received from the Scroll over the years, this one an elaborate affair of silver filigree and translucent crystal. He’d never quite been able to bring himself to sell it, especially since he’d only received it after joining the sect.

  Then, carefully holding the teapot in one hand, he gestured with the other and used a pair of techniques. Water rose in a thin, steady stream from the basin on the counter and flowed into the teapot. As it passed through the opening, he carefully heated it to the perfect temperature, the better part of three years of daily practice turning what had once been a painstaking, multi-step process into a single act.

  Gwen was suitably impressed, leaning over to watch the thin curl of steam rising from the tea pot with wonder in her eyes. It wasn’t as funny as Lulu’s reaction the first time he’d done it in front of her, but that was just Lulu being Lulu. He hid a smile as he served them each a cup—these ones the simple white-glazed clay that came with the villa—and set out a few small desserts he'd purchased from Mortal Hall that morning for most of a point. That was a luxury he rarely allowed himself to indulge in, but it felt appropriate. He had a guest, after all, and it was important to be a good host.

  As he worked, bustling around the villa's small kitchen and connected dining area, he questioned her in more detail about the midnight glory, and cultivating spiritual herbs more generally. She seemed more comfortable when he seemingly wasn’t completely focused on her, less tense and prone to embarrassment. It helped that it was clearly a topic near and dear to her heart, though her confidence in her own expertise wasn’t quite what he would have expected. She still paused frequently, as though waiting for a criticism or a correction, and didn’t seem to know what to do when they didn’t appear.

  In terms of how she’d managed to grow such a high quality herb, Calvin’s thoughts were inconclusive. She described how she tended to them in exacting detail, going so far as to explain exactly what kind of soil she used and her precise watering and pruning schedules. It didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary, but some of the language she used did stand out to him. What did it mean that a certain kind of soil made the blossoms happy? That seemed…significant.

  He had some suspicions, but they were only that. While the Scroll’s rewards had given him a reasonable understanding of the mechanics and theoretical underpinnings of cultivation, at least up to the breakthrough to the Core realm, he would be the first to admit that his education beyond that on matters of cultivation was spotty at best. The Eight Peaks Sect’s archives were extensive, said to be some of the greatest in the entire province and even among its neighbors, but there was only so much information accessible to Outer disciples, and much of that at exorbitant prices he simply couldn’t justify. Plus, any time spent at the archives was time not spent cultivating—a steep cost in its own right.

  It certainly bore further investigation. He was extremely curious to see what would happen if he tried to propagate the exceptional herb.

  Eventually he poured the tea, which came out a rich red-purple like the sky at sunset, and settled in the chair across from her, cup cradled in both hands. He liked tea, though most of what he’d drunk in his life hadn’t had any actual tea in it. Even if the taste was only alright, tea usually came hand in hand with better things––safety, a warm place to sleep, sometimes even real food. Gwen seemed to enjoy it as well, relaxing further as she took her first sip. He wondered how closely he’d managed to guess what kind of additives would be commonly used in the part of the province where Gwen had been raised. The petals alone were nice, and tea leaves were standard among those who could afford them, but everyone seemed to add a little bit of something else, whether that was dried spices, bits of fruit, or various herbs.

  “So,” he began, “I’d like to hear more about your time here at the sect, junior sister. Though I know I encouraged you in that direction, I’m afraid that I myself have not had the chance to explore the alchemy-related class and materials the sect makes available. I understand that it’s a very complex, intricate field of study that requires a great deal of dedication. Many begin their training as young children, before they’ve even ignited, and still fail to achieve anything of note. It’s quite impressive how much progress you’ve made in just what, a single year? A little longer?”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Um…” Gwen stared down into her cup, “a year sounds about right, senior brother. Though—“

  “You can just call me Calvin,” he interrupted. “Senior brother is much too formal.” He smiled, his voice dropping into a whisper like he was telling her a secret, “And truth is I’m not too used to hearing anyone call me that yet. Wasn’t too long ago that I was the one calling everyone senior.” He smiled jokingly and gestured towards her with his tea cup, “Isn’t that right, senior sister?”

  That drew a surprised laugh out of her, and Calvin didn’t bother hiding how his own smile widened. “Uh, okay…senior brother Calvin. I’ll do my best. But um,” she hesitated briefly, taking a sip of her tea to cover the silence, “then you should just call me Gwen.” Her blush, which had never truly had a chance to fade fully, deepened. “It wouldn’t be right otherwise.”

  “Okay, Gwen, I can do that.”

  She ducked her head, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Okay, um. Where was—oh. Right. Uh, yeah. Yeah. It’s been about a year, but I don’t know that I’d say I’ve made very much progress. The lessons the sect offered weren’t too complicated and I can make a few simple pills, but I don’t think I’m much of an alchemist. My tutor says I have some small potential, but most of his lessons go right over my head.”

  “Oh?” Calvin asked, prompting her to elaborate.

  “Well, I haven’t had too much trouble with the few pills and elixirs I’ve tried making, but I don’t really know if they come out any good. Sure the sect buys them, and they even gave me four points for some of the Meridian Cleansing Pills this time, but the sect buys everything! My tutor took me to the Alchemist Hall once and pointed out all the pills they were selling that he’d made, but I’ve never seen them selling any of my pills. I know the skin cleansing elixirs are mostly sold outside the sect, but are my other pills not even good enough for the Outer sect?”

  She was starting to get worked up, quiet embarrassment replaced by an upwelling of frustration. “And my tutor certainly doesn’t think they’re very good. He tells me to practice and practice, but they’re never up to his standards. He said he’d show me a new recipe once I’d really mastered what I’m currently practicing, but it’s been six whole months and I haven’t made any real progress. I know that that isn’t a long time for a cultivator, but that’s most of the time I’ve been a cultivator and it feels like a long time to me!”

  She sagged suddenly, her head dipping forward like it was too heavy for her neck. She took a long sip of her tea, then set the cup down more firmly than necessary, not spilling any only because there was little left to spill.

  “At least he’s willing to take spiritual herbs as payment instead of pills or contribution points.” She sighed heavily. “Even the ones that come out looking a little wonky or that he can’t cultivate with. He says that he can make use of them in his alchemy, but I think he’s just trying to be nice.”

  The ones that come out looking a little wonky. Right. Wonky, like perhaps ones with oversized seeds and leaves such a rich, vibrant shade of green that it looked nearly unnatural on a living herb.

  She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, senior brother Calvin, but if you have questions about alchemy, I’m afraid that I’m just wasting your time. I spoke far too boastfully during our previous meeting and misled you.” She bowed, her forehead nearly touching the table. “This junior begs forgiveness for wasting senior brother’s time.” She fell silent, dejectedly poking at the food on her plate and determinately not looking at him.

  Calvin studied her quietly. With no other people in the villa and the filtering formations running, the two of them were the only ones affecting the character of the ambient qi. He was keeping his qi tightly controlled, but Gwen was far less capable of limiting her spirit’s influence on the environment. Thus, by drawing it into his own spirit and examining its character closely, he could get a vague sense of her emotional state. And once combined with her expressive body language…

  She wasn’t doing well. She’d done a good job applying some sort of makeup, but signs of sleepless nights differed between mortals and cultivators, and his eyes were keener than her own. The same exhaustion he’d noticed in her posture several days earlier was still there, amplified even, and the qi around her carried a despairing quality that was all too common in the lowest rungs of the Outer sect. Her rapidly fluctuating mood wasn’t a great sign either, though some of that could be explained by her presence here, speaking with him.

  She did not look like one of the Outer sect’s success stories. She looked like the sort of cultivator who tried to break through to the Foundation realm without the proper preparation or mindset just to take some of the pressure off their shoulders, only to irrevocably damage their future potential or simply die in the process.

  She was a veritable stranger, but she was an interesting stranger. A stranger who looked up to him, who clearly placed great value in his words and wisdom. A very intriguing stranger who’d just given him a gift he suspected was worth more than the vast majority of cultivators would see in a lifetime, and might just be a source of many more such gifts in the future.

  She needed help. He probably wasn’t the right person to provide it, didn’t really know what he was doing, and barely knew enough to guess what would and wouldn’t help, but who was? Gwen wasn’t close with anyone, her biggest social links being with Uncle—not someone anyone should truly rely on—and this tutor of hers, who he heavily suspected wasn’t nearly as benevolent as Gwen thought he was. And after all, everyone always said that a cultivator walks the path of the heavens alone.

  It cost him little to try, and had a very respectable chance of paying off in a big way. His favorite kind of gamble.

  “Gwen,” he said sharply, and she jumped, looking up at him in surprise. “I am the judge of if someone is or isn’t wasting my time. Not you. Understood?”

  “Yes, senior brother!” she blurted out.

  “Good. And for the record, I do not gift valuable pills to wastes of my time. I do not invite wastes of time into my home. I do not serve wastes of my time tea and sweets.” He flared his qi, unimpressive in the grand scheme of things but utterly overwhelming to someone who hadn’t even stepped out of the Gathering realm, a realm he’d heard some cultivators considered barely better than mortality. “Do you understand, junior sister?”

  She nodded rapidly, her voice gaining a high pitched squeak. “Yes, senior brother!”

  “That’s very good, because I certainly don’t share my own valuable knowledge and priceless insights into cultivation at the Gathering realm and the advancement to the Foundation realm with wastes of my time.” He let those words hang in the air for a long moment, Gwen sitting still as a statue beneath the pressure of his qi, which, even drained from a day of training and usage, dwarfed what she’d accumulated in the Gathering realm more than a dozen times over. He idly made a note that he’d have to be careful around mortals and newly ignited cultivators—he was pretty sure he’d finally crossed the threshold where over exposure could be physically or spiritually harmful to those significantly weaker than himself.

  A moment later he relaxed the pressure and Gwen slumped back in her wooden chair, flushed and breathing heavily as though she’d just spent an hour running away from a spirit beast. Her hands dropped into her lap and Calvin could faintly hear the rapid pounding of her heart.

  Oops.

  He ignored it, continuing onward as though nothing had happened. “And while I cannot address all of your concerns, I can certainly allay one of them.” Reaching into his robe he withdrew a pill bottle and placed it on the table between them. “Recognize these?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

  It took her a moment to gather herself before she could answer the question. He took the time to pour both of them another cup of tea, reheating it to a more pleasant temperature with a touch of qi. “They look like, uh, meridian cleansing pills?” she tried hesitantly.

  “Close, but not quite what I’m looking for.” He pushed the vial closer to her, and she picked it up, turning it over in her hands and eventually opening the bottle to inspect the pills within.

  It was obvious when she realized what she was looking at, though she spent another few seconds examining the pills just to be sure. “These are my meridian cleansing pills, from my latest batch. You were there when I sold them to the sect.” She looked up, staring at him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity, “Where—how did you get these?”

  Calvin shrugged. “They were in my goody bag this month.” She blinked once, but Calvin was pretty sure she understood what he was talking about. She was just surprised. “I know, right? It was as much a surprise to me as it is to you. Pretty nice bag this month overall, even if I don’t really need all of the pills they gave me.”

  He was surprised when Gwen looked dejected instead of pleased. She set the bottle back down on the table and slumped forward, her head drooping and hair nearly falling into her tea. “I guess if no one would buy them, they really are only worth giving away.”

  Calvin pinched the bridge of his nose. Honestly, this girl.

  “That is not at all what I’m saying.” He sighed heavily. “I may not be an alchemist, but I’d have to be blind not to see that these pills are vastly superior to the ones the sect sells in the Alchemy Hall. They better be with the bribe I gave the enforcer.”

  Gwen’s head shot up so fast a mortal might have broken their neck. “You bribed an enforcer? Are you insane?”

  It was Calvin’s turn to blink in confusion. “Of course I bribed the enforcer. I bribe the enforcer every quarter. That’s the only way to get a good resource allocation. Everyone who can afford it does it.” It wasn’t even really a secret that it happened—someone had told him about it during his very first month at the sect. He paused, tilting his head in confusion. “…you don’t bribe the enforcer?”

  Gwen went from dejected to hysterical in an instant “Of course I don’t bribe the enforcer! Those guys are terrifying! Do you want to get beaten half to death or disappeared?” She was half out of her seat by the time the rest of what he’d said registered. “…what do you mean everyone does it?”

  Calvin sighed heavily. “Exactly what it sounds like? I definitely thought I mentioned it during my tour around the sect, didn’t I?” He’d definitely intended to. “Sect Enforcers have full discretion in what kind of Outer sect allocation to give you. Even just a five-point jade bribe, gift, whatever you want to call it, can double the value of your goody bag. I’ve been doing it pretty much every quarter since I joined the sect.”

  Gwen opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then let her head drop onto the table with a soft thunk, barely missing her plate and tea cup. Without raising her head she mumbled, “This one apologizes for raising her voice at senior brother.”

  Calvin poured himself another cup of tea. “That’s quite alright, Gwen. Your concern for my well being is appreciated.” He drained it in a single sip, then set the cup down. “It’s even more impressive that you’ve made it this far so quickly with even fewer resources than I originally assumed. But in the future, remember that it is best to not leave money on the table when at all possible. I’m certain you’re well aware, but cultivation is expensive, junior sister.”

  “Now then,” he stood up and stepped away from the table. “I will give you a few minutes to compose yourself while I get your gift settled in my garden. When I return, we can discuss your cultivation.”

  “Okay, senior brother,” she mumbled.

  Calvin silently regarded the limp young woman half sprawled across his dining table. She would require a not insubstantial amount of work, but he had a good feeling about this. There was something special about her. He was sure of it. And she certainly needed someone. If no one else was going to step up, why not let it be him? Perhaps this is what all those stories meant about fortuitous encounters. And perhaps this could be a fortuitous encounter for Gwen as well. At least he wanted to help her back.

  Not everyone was so generous.

  Plus she was a lot easier to talk to than any of the women whom Ariadne had tried setting him up with. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone and try to direct her ‘repayment’ in a more productive direction. The first party she’d dragged him too had been a total bust, but the second had gone much better. He certainly wouldn’t mind another dinner like that!

  “Good girl.”

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