"Now," he said, "why did you interrupt the debate?"
Charlie frowned slightly. "Is that why you brought me here?"
"You asked me a question, and I answered it. Now it is my turn."
There was something almost disarmingly straightforward about the way Renguang said it. Charlie had expected the man to explain himself, perhaps reveal some hidden reason for bringing him into the private room, but apparently Renguang considered the matter settled. Charlie had asked where he could find a proxy, Renguang had answered, and the conversation had simply moved on.
Charlie leaned back as much as his injured legs allowed. "So we’re taking turns?"
"That would make things considerably easier."
"Fair enough."
Renguang poured himself another cup of tea. "Why did you interrupt the debate?"
Charlie considered the question for a moment, although the answer itself was not particularly difficult. "Because I disagreed with what was being said."
"That alone was enough to make you interrupt a room full of people?"
"I wanted to challenge the argument."
Renguang’s expression softened into something resembling amusement. "And why did you care enough to challenge it?"
Charlie rested his arm against the table, settling into the conversation with considerably more interest than he had expected when he first entered the room. "Because I like arguing."
That answer seemed to interest Renguang more than any explanation of the original dispute could have.
Charlie continued, "I used to argue with someone. Politics, religion, economics, pretty much anything that could be turned into an argument. She was good at it, so I enjoyed having someone who could actually push back."
Renguang listened without interrupting, his attention fixed on Charlie rather than the tea now cooling beside him.
"So you weren’t trying to embarrass me?"
"No."
"Nor were you trying to make yourself look clever?"
Charlie considered that. "I mean, I don’t mind looking clever, but that wasn’t the point."
A quiet laugh escaped Renguang.
Charlie allowed himself a small smile. "I just disagreed. Once I heard the argument, I wanted to test it."
Renguang nodded slowly, as though that answer had confirmed something he had already begun to suspect.
"I see."
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
"I think I do."
Charlie’s attention drifted back toward the wooden box resting on the table.
"What’s in the box?"
Renguang placed one hand over the lid, although he did not open it again. "It’s a surprise."
"A surprise?"
"For you."
Charlie looked at him with immediate suspicion.
"You can open it once you get home."
"Why can’t I open it now?"
"Because then it wouldn’t be a surprise when you get home."
Charlie had no reasonable response to that. He let the matter go, though not without some lingering curiosity.
Renguang took another sip of tea before setting the cup down. "Perhaps you should consider working for me."
Charlie gave him a doubtful look. "Doing what?"
"I need someone who can examine arguments before decisions are made. Someone who can challenge weak reasoning, question assumptions, and tell me when the people around me are agreeing simply because they are afraid to disagree. You could serve as a Principle Examiner."
Charlie stared at him for a moment before dismissing the idea with a small movement of his hand. "No."
Renguang did not seem offended. "You answered quickly."
"I’ve had enough trouble with people trying to tell me what to do without making a profession out of it."
"I could pay you."
"No."
"Give you your own room."
"No."
"Provide you with access to the sect’s library."
Charlie hesitated for half a heartbeat before recovering himself. "Still no."
Renguang’s mouth curved slightly. "What if I told you I could have your legs healed?"
That finally caught Charlie’s attention, although only briefly.
"You can do that?"
"I know people who can."
Charlie considered the offer, weighing the immediate usefulness against everything else Renguang had just proposed. Being able to walk properly again would solve a rather significant portion of his current problems, and the possibility of entering a martial duel with two functioning legs was considerably more appealing than doing so in his present condition.
Then he pushed the thought aside.
Renguang noticed.
"You aren’t even going to negotiate?"
"I don’t want the job."
"Even if it means walking normally again?"
"I’ll figure something out."
It was not an especially convincing answer, and Charlie knew it, but the idea of becoming an official servant of some sect simply because his legs were broken felt like the sort of bargain that would create three new problems while solving one. He had spent enough time being pushed around by circumstances he barely understood. He had no intention of volunteering for another set of chains.
Renguang seemed content to let the matter rest.
Instead, he asked, "Then what do you want?"
Charlie was quiet for a moment.
There were plenty of things he could have named. Money would help. Knowledge would help more. A functioning understanding of qi, martial arts, this world, the System that insisted on answering every important question with some variation of Unknown would all have been useful.
But beneath all of that, there was something much simpler.
"Home."
Renguang’s expression changed slightly.
Charlie continued, his voice quieter now. "I want to go home. Back to my wife, my kids, my friends. I want to see them again."
The room seemed to settle around the words.
Renguang studied him for a moment before saying, "You seem rather young to have a family of your own."
Charlie gave a faint, tired smile. "Yeah. I get that."
"Where are they?"
"Far away."
"Where?"
Charlie did not answer immediately.
Renguang continued gently, "If you tell me where they are, perhaps I can help you find them."
There was something strangely sincere about the offer, which somehow made it worse. Renguang did not understand what he was asking. There was no road leading back to Charlie’s old life, no messenger who could be sent across the empire, no sect elder who knew a secret route between worlds. His wife, his children, his friends, the entire life he had known existed somewhere beyond the reach of every mountain, river, and martial sect in this world.
"Maybe," Charlie said, "if you were God reincarnated, you could help me."
Renguang regarded him thoughtfully.
"God?"
Charlie waved the question away. "Forget it."
Renguang did not press him. He simply lifted his teacup again, while Charlie sat with the uncomfortable knowledge that, for all the power gathered within the Heavenly Principle Sect, there were some distances even martial artists could not cross.
Renguang did not press him. He simply lifted his teacup again, while Charlie sat with the uncomfortable knowledge that, for all the power gathered within the Heavenly Principle Sect, there were some distances even martial artists could not cross.
After a moment, Charlie pushed himself upright.
"Well, I should probably go."
Renguang lowered his cup. "Stay for lunch."
"I can’t."
Renguang regarded him with mild curiosity. "Why?"
"Because I’ve got two lardlords to feed, and one of them is particularly difficult."
Renguang paused. "Lardlords?"
"Don’t worry about it."
Charlie reached for the arm of the chair, preparing himself for the unpleasant process of standing with his injured legs, but Renguang spoke again before he could manage it.
"If you are looking for someone who can heal you, seek out Old Man Taixuan."
Charlie stopped.
"Who?"
"Taixuan."
Renguang set his cup down. "He is the oldest healer known to still walk the Jianghu. Some say he has lived for more than three hundred years, although no one knows whether that is true. He understands the human body better than any physician I have ever encountered, and his knowledge of qi and the meridians is said to be beyond comparison."
Charlie slowly straightened.
"And you think he can fix my legs?"
"If anyone can, he can."
There was something in Renguang’s tone that made Charlie take the name seriously.
"What’s the catch?"
"He does not treat everyone who finds him."
"Of course he doesn’t."
"He is also a martial artist."
Charlie frowned. "How good?"
Renguang gave him a faint smile.
"People call him the Living Immortal."
That was not particularly reassuring.
"Where do I find him?"
"He moves often. Start by asking around the western mountains. If the stories are true, someone will know where he was seen last."
Charlie absorbed the information, committing the name to memory even if the rest of the instructions sounded remarkably similar to the beginning of a quest he had no intention of accepting.
Renguang rose from his seat. "Come. I’ll see you out."
Charlie followed as best he could, relying more heavily on the furniture and his own stubbornness than he would have preferred. They passed back through the quiet corridors of the Eastern Pavilion, where the sounds of training and conversation gradually became louder as they approached the outer grounds. Renguang did not hurry him, and by the time they reached the waiting carriage, Charlie was more relieved to see it than he cared to admit.
Renguang stopped beside the carriage.
"If you win your duel, I’ll grant you one wish."
Charlie considered that for a moment. "Any wish?"
"Within reason."
"Then you could prepare a Maison for me."
Renguang smiled. "A Maison?"
Charlie placed a hand against the carriage and carefully pulled himself up. "Although, considering the state of my legs and the fact that I don’t know how to fight, you might want to prepare a casket instead."
Renguang’s smile widened.
"Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that."
"Yeah, I’d prefer the Maison."
With that, Charlie climbed into the carriage and settled himself against the seat as comfortably as his injured legs allowed. The driver gathered the reins, and the carriage began to roll away from the Eastern Pavilion while Renguang remained beside the road, watching until it disappeared down the mountain path.