The rest of the students had given Wu Hao mixed looks - some, in his estimation, seemed impressed, though he could read their qi and felt an undercurrent of annoyance at him. Yi Wei had left too, apparently still having work to do.

  Shan Kong might have felt angry at him before, but Wu Hao didn't need to be able to sense qi to be able to pick up on the hatred the other boy felt for him, now. Perhaps if he'd been spared the humiliation...

  But no. Shan Kong had tried to humiliate him and had been humiliated in turn. Maybe that was childish, but it'd felt right in the moment, and technically Wu Hao was a child right now, anyway.

  All that aside, though, Wu Hao wondered if maybe it'd be better if he reset the day now. He'd been wounded, and whatever else the day had in store for him, he'd have to face it already an arm down, and without the last remnants of qi that he'd been holding on to.

  He gave that a few more moments' thought, then lifted his arm to inspect the long wounds. His new robe was ruined already, and for that matter the wound itself hurt like hell, obviously. The saber must have carved through the cloth and then the skin and flesh of his upper right arm. There was a certain numbness to Wu Hao's senses that he recognized as the onset of blood loss, probably not serious enough to kill but enough to prevent him from fighting any further today.

  But then again, dying again meant having to face Lady Jin again, and what purpose would that serve? He'd do it if he had to, but the only thing that he'd get from her was more things to be furious about.

  He didn't need that.

  It didn't take too long before Jin Qilong returned, a roll of bandages in one hand and carrying a small tray of water in the other. He grimaced at the sight of Wu Hao's wounds, but he did seem to know what to do. Wu Hao ripped the robe's sleeve back and then let Jin Qilong pour the water over his wounds, trying to clean them out even a little, trying to seem dispassionate.

  It worked until the bandages were being rolled around his arm and Jin Qilong's fumbling fingers managed to push into his wound accidentally. His fingers came away daubed in red. Despite trying to ignore the wounds, Wu Hao hissed and Jin Qilong looked up, guiltily.

  "Sorry," Jin Qilong said. "I usually do this to myself, so it's easier, I guess. I know where my wounds are, right?"

  He tried to chuckle, which withered under Wu Hao's stare.

  "You got it worse than I do from Shan Kong, though," Jin Qilong said quickly. "Usually he doesn't use the sharp edge of his saber..."

  "Give that here," Wu Hao said, reaching out a hand, and Jin Qilong let the bandages fall into Wu Hao's fingers.

  With deft movements, Wu Hao wound the bandages around his arm a few times, then grunted. Too much cloth on these bandages by far, and using it all would be wasteful. Setting the roll down again, he grabbed the bandit's saber, secured it between his legs, and sawed the bandages back and forth until he'd cut through enough of it that he could tear the rest away with his bare hand, then applied the bandage.

  Good enough, he thought, pulling it tighter.

  Jin Qilong watched with an open mouth.

  "Doesn't that hurt?" he asked. "You're moving like you don't even feel anything."

  "Of course it hurts," Wu Hao said, feeling the urge to call Jin Qilong a moron run through him. Did the other boy think he wasn't human? "But it's just pain. I've had worse."

  "You've had worse than your arm being carved open?"

  "Yes," Wu Hao grunted. "Hold that there."

  Jin Qilong had complied before Wu Hao had even remembered to add "please," so Wu Hao stuffed the ragged edge of the bandage into the rest of it, tucking it behind a flap of the bandages to keep it somewhat hanging on by itself.

  Moving his arm back and forth, feeling it still throb and hurt, he nodded. He flexed his wrist, finding that his movement was impaired only a little. Better than he'd expected, then.

  "I'm sorry," Jin Qilong said softly.

  Wu Hao stirred, looked at the other boy. Jin Qilong sat with his hands clasped, looking small. It was hard to look at him and remember that he was the son of Lady Jin, with the softer cast of his features.

  "What for?"

  Belatedly, realizing that he'd forgotten again, he added: "What for, Young Master?"

  Jin Qilong frowned.

  "Don't call me that," he asked. It would have been better if he'd demanded it, Wu Hao thought. "Just call me Jin Qilong."

  "That's who you are," Wu Hao said flatly. "You're the Young Master. By your mother's decree, I'm to be your servant."

  Jin Qilong looked away, avoiding Wu Hao's eyes.

  "I didn't want that," he said. "I - I thought we could be friends. I told her that."

  Wu Hao looked with an open mouth at Jin Qilong.

  "I'm here because you thought we could be friends?" he asked, incredulously.

  Jin Qilong's mouth worked soundlessly, before he managed a choked word: "Yes?"

  For a moment Wu Hao couldn't even think. Then he exhaled. It was becoming something of a ritual to try and calm himself down.

  Great. This young master, son of one of the fiercest women Wu Hao had ever met, was a sadsack who just wanted friends. Wu Hao couldn't detect any signs that Jin Qilong was putting on an act, either. His qi spoke of loneliness and a quiet hope that things might have become different, currently being crushed.

  No wonder Yi Wei was so dismissive. No wonder that Shan Kong, who was presumably the son of some local bigwig, felt able to bully Jin Qilong, the supposed young master of the sect. This boy was a loser.

  Wu Hao had no clue where to even begin. In so far as he'd signed up for anything, this wasn't it. He'd rather face ten Shan Kongs than having to deal with all this.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Long moments passed in silence before either of them spoke, and surprisingly it was Jin Qilong who broke the fragile quiet.

  "Sorry," the other boy managed. He looked miserable, but not as miserable as Wu Hao might have wanted.

  For Heaven's sake, Wu Hao thought. Lady Jin had ensnared him with promises, and now her son was trying to make him feel pity, of all things.

  Even if that was true, though, it was working. The red hot volcanic anger in his chest had cooled, first from the fight and now from seeing Jin Qilong act like a sadsack, and now he found his emotions mostly just a muddled tangle that felt impossible to put a name on.

  Mostly, he wished that he felt empty instead of whatever this was. Empty was good, he thought: he could deal with empty. Emotions were harder, especially now that it felt like he was feeling every emotion five times over. What the hell was happening to him? Being twelve hadn't been this confusing before in the caves.

  "Forget it," Wu Hao finally muttered. "I'll think of something."

  Jin Qilong offered a hesitant smile. "Yeah?"

  "Yeah," Wu Hao said. He ran a hand through his hair. "What now?"

  "What do you mean?" Jin Qilong asked.

  "Your mother wants me to impress her," Wu Hao said. "Lady Jin isn't impressed easily, it seems to me. So I'm going to need something."

  "If I had an idea on how to impress Mother," Jin Qilong said, "I'd have done it myself."

  Damnit.

  "Alright," Wu Hao said. "Well. If I'm to be your servant, what duties do I have? Or your friend, or whatever."

  Jin Qilong winced.

  "Well," Jin Qilong said. "I was, er, thinking of heading to the book repository? You could come along."

  His tone didn't sound too hopeful, though he didn't seem to mind the thought of spending his day inside. It was probably better than being beaten, though Wu Hao could only presume: he'd only ever laid eyes on books and scrolls and manual from a distance, and he'd never owned a book before.

  "What's a book repository?" Wu Hao asked.

  "It's basically a library. The main one stores all of the scrolls, all the records of our every mission. Our cultivation methods are stored there - except the secret ones that are passed from father to son and so on obviously - and it also includes all the cultivation methods we receive as payment. Or the ones we, er, take as payment. They're gathered over at these local branches and the better ones are sent over to the main library every five years. Since we're visiting anyway, we decided to check in and make sure it's all happening on the level."

  The thought of all these books seemed to somewhat cheer Jin Qilong, as did the fact that he was allowed to rattle off information.

  "And... anyone can walk in and take these books?" Wu Hao asked.

  "Absolutely not," Jin Qilong said. "The libraries are trapped to the gills."

  "Huh," Wu Hao said. An idea was brewing in the back of his mind. "And these traps you spoke about, how do they work?"

  Jin Qilong rubbed at the side of his eyes.

  "Mainly arrays," he explained. "Think of them as techniques saved up and stored into talismans and the like. If you take a step in the wrong direction, or if you try to go to some place that you're not allowed to go..."

  He trailed off.

  "Then what?"

  "It kills you," Jin Qilong said, and shook his head. "No warnings. So, please, stay out of the areas you're not supposed to go to, alright?"

  "Sure," Wu Hao said, thinking the exact opposite. An easy source of new types of deaths, within reach? Prizes, too, if he managed to figure out a way past the arrays? Excellent.

  "You know a lot about these arrays," Wu Hao said. He said it as a statement, but it really was more like a question.

  Jin Qilong sighed. "Just the basics. The point is - before we got sidetracked - I'm the clan leader's son, despite everything. I could get you something."

  "Like what?"

  "If you don't have a qi cultivation art, there's probably something on the first floor that'll suit you. I can't give you much permission to go anywhere, but I've got enough authority to make sure you can take out a single book from the first floor for a few days. If you cultivate one of the arts there, I'd imagine you could probably become a third-grade artist anywhere in a year or so?"

  Wu Hao hesitated. First off, that idea of a year - that felt too long. He had bought himself five years. Would he waste them all on simply trying to attain some level of power again, before he'd be able to put that to use?

  Besides, it had taken him three years or more, with the Limitless Pulse Art. He had no idea how that would compare to the arts that the Jin clan book repository here could give him.

  But then again, he could simply grab something from the library, see how well he did with it, and reset if it wasn't suited to him.

  The fact of the matter was that he needed to get his hands on more qi, and he needed to do so urgently. If there were going to be more of these spars, as one reason, but another reason was simply to heal faster, to sense more, to be better than this emotional wreck he currently was.

  He stood up, flexed his arm again, inspected it. It was throbbing with pain in an odd rhythm, the bandages around it were turning red slowly, and his head still felt faint.

  Fine for now, then.

  "Let's go, then," he said. He fiddled with the saber until he'd managed to get it back into its sheathe.

  "Now?" Jin Qilong asked.

  "Yeah," Wu Hao said.

  Lady Jin wanted him to be useful, did she? Well. Two could play at that game. Maybe it was time to see how useful the young master could be to him.