The light of the Blue Moon was once again filling Heng’s sight.

  He was lying on the floor of some random square, a dead Spirit Beast in his lap; the pains from his illness, for once, were silent, but those from the fight remained: bruises, cuts, bleeding holes all over him, his clothes torn apart, and what remained of them stained red. He had no energy left, tired down to his very soul.

  I did it.

  A sense of calm pervaded him.

  That exhaustion, that emptiness, washed away many of his worries.

  He had no reason to think of his incoming trials, not when there was nothing he could do to prepare; why think of his family, when he couldn’t even walk to go see them; how behind he was in his training, when he had just done the hardest one of his life; what would await him once he left for the sect? He had no idea what would await him when- if- he got back to the bakery!

  He petted the rooster’s head, feeling the shard of broken bone under the thin skin, and moved the hand away as soon as he recognised it.

  He couldn’t say he felt much guilt, not this time. He had caused the death of Xie Shun already, and even if the young man had brought it upon himself, Heng’s actions had pushed him there. Logically, it didn’t make sense. But a human life had been taken.

  An animal, a beast… he didn’t like that he had to kill it, but the month before the Moon changed colour and nature would be one when thousands more would be killed to keep the city safe. The transformation that happened to this rooster would happen to all other beasts, even if none should have been this powerful; creatures that were Spirit Beasts already would be culled before they became even greater menaces, too.

  In a way, he almost wanted to feel bad, to claim to be a better person than he actually was. But that was still a beast.

  Only the rich and powerful could keep animals as pets, and even they would need special cages and treatment to at least have the crazed monsters contained safely for the entire six-month period.

  This kind of death was… common. A good thing, even, at least for humankind.

  He still couldn’t help but pet the body, hoping that its soul, wherever it was, would feel his warm hands and what little affection he could give.

  Was it truly fine for him, taking a life like that?

  …

  A few hours before dawn, he was almost back at Lung’s, carrying the body over his shoulders; that alone had been pretty much a third training session.

  While he was not in love with the feeling, he had had the chance to study the way Vitality naturally healed the muscles, getting a small step closer to understanding the principles behind those esoteric body tempering manuals.

  Having the chance to know better how his body worked when there was no energy left to move it was also interesting, but he didn’t get to just lie on the ground and check it out for long: the opportunity to see how the beast on his shoulder had been changed was a far superior, and rarer, one.

  This was not the typical alterations of the Red Moon. He grinned, despite his mixed feelings, as he opened the door. This was qualitatively superior, and that’s not even considering that there was some sort of will behind it. Was it targeted? To me? Was it chosen randomically, or with intent behind? By the Heavens?

  Had someone got to see him in that state, they would have called him insane, his knowledge-hungry smile paired with terrified eyes. Luckily for him, no one did as he crossed the square, almost knocked over the ugly little statue at the centre, and entered the store.

  The initial changes could have been random, but those later on are proof that the process had someone or something to control it that wasn’t the rooster. I almost wish it had been brought to the Second Awakening, just to see how something so powerful arranges Meridians. I’ll happily settle with whatever it did to its bones, and especially those scales, though.

  The talons could be interesting, too. It’s sad that the last attack shattered its beak; the way it slid into literal brick walls could have been an interesting inspiration for Xin’s Technique. The muscles will still help quite a lot, the explosive power was amazing, and I’m surprised it could keep it for so long, the efficiency must have been a cut above what I'm used to. I should consider this more in my work. Maybe I could…

  “Now, kid, if you plan to just stay there and stare at empty air with a creepy smile some more, I’m going to pan your head until you get your sanity back.”

  Heng blinked and saw Lung waiting in the dark room, a candle in his hand. He couldn’t say was particularly focused on his company, not with something else on his shoulders that was much, much more interesting.

  “I need a chicken. A full one would be the best.” Heng said with a distracted voice and went to the kitchen to leave the huge body.

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  The huge man let him pass by his side, but gave him an annoyed look.

  “Boy. I’m your elder, your boss, and the person who’s giving you a roof over your head. Pick whichever you’d like, but remember you don’t speak to me like that. I deserve some respect.”

  “Right, sorry, Lung. Just had a weird, long night, shouldn’t have talked like that.” Damn, this feels like talking to Father on a bad day.

  “Hm, better. I’m going to sleep.”

  “What about the chicken? Or even better, a rooster?”

  “Heng, I swear I’ll actually hit you if you keep talking at this hour of the night. Leave that thing wherever, and rest. Heck, toss those clothes away, I’m not planning to wash your blood off my floor or see your manhood tonight!”

  “I.. uh… sure…”

  As the fat man walked up the stairs, he promptly forgot about the conversation. Except for the fact that, at the moment, he had no normal specimen to examine and compare it to. He dumped the… study material on an empty table, happy to relieve the pressure off his back.

  He was ready to start prying it open to find out all the secrets it carried when he realised he didn’t know how to properly cut it, and would need the help of a man who was back to snoring to do it. He still took some empty pages, a measuring tape, and spent the next half hour writing down every single detail.

  During the process, he refilled his Dantian with Qi, enjoying the shop having a higher concentration of it in the air. With that taken care of, he went to sleep, hoping to catch some rest for what little time he had left before dawn came.

  …

  The morning shift was uneventful, to say the least.

  Not a crazy amount of customers, most of whom respectful, with only a few whispering about his alone time with his one girl friend. Or friend in general. Acquaintance? Personal customer? He had no idea what relationship they were supposed to have. He wouldn't mind a friend, or something more, but he knew better than get his hopes up over a girl he had seen something like four times.

  He was asked only a few times if the person they heard shouting in the middle of the night was him, which he denied with a straight face.

  Voices of a monster that came into the slums and hunted at night, stabbing its prey with its one huge talon before dragging them away to feast on their corpses were easy to overhear, with how common they were. The people saying it were easily shut down when others made them notice that there were always a few people going missing in the poorer neighbourhoods.

  It was not reassuring, since he now lived pretty close to said slums, as he found out last night, but it was still better than being a homeless Cultivator and thus the greatest joke the city had ever heard.

  Another thing he could live with was Lung really wanting to sell the Spirit Beast's meat as a high-priced delicacy. It took him half a dozen no's before the man slowed down with his ideas for special plates and ways to advertise them.

  When he tried the thing they stuffed in their baked goods that day, he became sure that any other meat would have been a delicacy there.

  His Mother loved them all and would happily make him and Little Xia try any cut of any animal she could get her hands on, and even then, he had no idea what they were serving their clients.

  A wave of nostalgia mixed with worry hit the boy, despite the short time they had been apart.

  He shut down the feeling and got back to the more pressing matters: handling the last few customers they had left, staring at Lung whenever he got to cut some of the meat, thinking of all he should look out for in the dissection, and theorising all the adjustments he could do to his current idea for Xin’s Cultivation Technique.

  Not knowing what he’d find and what elements she’d choose for the Call section made the process harder, but it still managed to get his spirits higher, and when he found some free seconds, he scribbled down some more questions he'd ask her later.

  When the place finally emptied, the small boy and the huge man were cleaning up, making small talk until the first found an excuse to look for advice.

  “Can you show me how to use these properly?” Heng asked as he washed some huge knives. “If I learn, I can do more in the kitchen than bake bread and check soups.”

  “Yeah, sure, that’s absolutely the reason you’re asking.” The man snorted with blatant sarcasm.

  “Well, but it is technically true, right?”

  “Technically, sure. But I could also teach you how to make some decent noodles. Or the way people like their food fried. Want to learn that, instead?”

  “... I made some fried dough yesterday. It was heavenly.” The redhead smiled back smugly. “And, due to my beliefs, I can’t help you with the noodles.”

  “Bwaha! And what would those beliefs be, boy? I may want to follow whatever deities you do, if it means having to cook one less thing. The one I follow has me dealing with too much work already, I wouldn’t complain if I had to switch.”

  “Uhm… it’s a…” He struggled to find a way to continue the joke. “Snake god? Yeah. It’d be blasphemy to put in boiling water something resembling it, you know?”

  “It would be a nice excuse, had I not seen you happily dig in a bowl full of them yesterday. Keep going, tell me why that was fine.” The man, finished with his work, just stared with a smirk, resting on a table with his arms crossed.

  “Well… eating is fine. Everything eats. Snake gods eat, too, therefore, I can eat, see?! It fits! It's not blasphemy if I can make sense of it.”

  “Sure, sure… I hope you made that thing up, or whatever smiting we get for this will be worst than last night's. When you’re done, swipe the floor, and I’ll teach you.”

  Lung patted his shoulder and walked out of the shop, sitting on one of the benches in the neighbouring square and enjoying the sun. The boy, instead, had to keep working.

  Life is unfair…

  It was only when he dumped the dust outside that he saw what the man was doing: sleeping, with his hands crossed. The bags under his eyes were more noticeable than ever, his plump and soft face cadent with exhaustion, but even in his slumber, he gently caressed his late wife’s ring. The absurd hours he worked every day were clearly catching up to him, and his helpers running off somewhere clearly didn’t help.

  It was only later in the morning that he’d teach him, and that would come with its own set of problems, too.