Cultivation is Creation-Chapter 178: Hello Mother

"Elder Wu," I bowed deeply, buying myself a moment to organize my thoughts. "This junior greets his elder and hopes he has been well."

"Look at you!" he beamed. "A proper cultivator now! Your parents will be overjoyed: they've been so worried since you left for the sect." His expression turned slightly stern. "Though a letter now and then wouldn't have hurt, you know."

The elder wasn’t wrong, not even writing a single wasn’t characteristic of Ke Yin.

"I've been... busy with training,” I replied, giving off the impression of a young villager who got carried away with a whole new world.

"Hmph. Too busy to let your poor mother know you're alive?" But there was no real anger in his tone, just the fond exasperation of someone who'd known me: or rather, the original– since childhood.

"I hope they've been well?"

"Oh yes, yes. Your father's business has been doing well: he even took on an apprentice last month. And your mother, well, she still makes the best sweet buns in the village. Though she always says they're not as good as when you were here to help with the kneading..."

Listening to him talk about the family, I couldn't help but think about my time in the Starhaven Realm, when I'd borrowed Han Renyi's body. Then, I'd been able to repay the favor: strengthening his body, supplying better cultivation techniques, even saving his family from some rather nasty political complications.

But this... this was different. The original Ke Yin was dead, as thoroughly dead as anyone could be in a cultivation world. There would be no returning his body, no paying back the debt. The best I could do: the least I could do: was to be the filial son he would have been. To protect his family, to make them happy, to ensure they never had to know the truth about what happened to their real son.

"Junior Brother Ke Yin," Liu Chang's voice cut through my thoughts, "why don't you go visit your family while we meet with the other teams? I'm sure they'll want to see you."

I opened my mouth to protest: surely mission duties should come first? But Liu Chang's expression brooked no argument.

"That's an excellent idea," Elder Wu agreed before I could object. "They're at home now: your father just finished a big commission for the merchant Li's daughter's wedding clothes. I'm sure they'd love to hear about your experiences in the sect."

There was no use delaying this any further, so, I bowed to Liu Chang and Elder Wu, promised to rejoin the team later, and started down the familiar path to the house where the original Ke Yin had grown up.

Time to find out if I can fake being someone's son convincingly enough to avoid breaking their hearts. No pressure, right?

"On the bright side," Azure offered, "if you fail catastrophically, the beast wave will probably arrive before anyone has time to be properly upset about it."

"...You've been spending too much time around Yggy. You're developing a concerning sense of humor."

"I learned from the best, Master."

I wasn't sure if he meant me or Yggy with that comment. I decided not to ask.

As I walked through the village, I carefully suppressed my cultivation aura. It was something every cultivator had to learn: mortals might admire our power, but deep in their bones, in the primitive parts of their brains that remembered being prey, they could sense the predator we'd become.

Even at my relatively low cultivation level, an unrestricted aura could make children cry and adults break into cold sweats.

The streets were exactly as the original Ke Yin remembered them, down to the crooked cobblestone that everyone knew to step around near the baker's shop. The smell of fresh bread mixed with the ever-present scent of the river, creating that particular blend that meant "home" in memories that weren't quite mine.

A group of children ran past, then stopped and turned to stare. I recognized one of them: or rather, the original Ke Yin did. Little Ming. He looked about ten, and he was looking at me with wide, awe-struck eyes.

"Big Brother Ke?" he asked hesitantly.

I nodded, trying to smile in a way that wouldn't frighten him. "Hello, Ming. You've grown."

He beamed, then turned to his friends. "See? I told you he became a cultivator!"

The pride in his voice brought back memories of the day the sect scout had discovered the original’s spiritual sensitivity. The whole village had celebrated: it wasn't every day one of their own got the chance to walk the immortal path. They'd held a feast, everyone bringing what food they could spare, sharing stories late into the night about legendary cultivators and their great deeds.

But underlying the celebration had been a current of uncertainty. Everyone knew the statistics, even if they didn't speak of them openly. Most village children who showed promise still failed the sect's entrance examinations. Of those who passed, many couldn't handle the brutal training regimens and returned to mortal life within the first year.

A cultivation prodigy from a small village was like a delicate flower growing through cracks in the stone: beautiful, but all too easily crushed.

The fact that "I" had not only survived but thrived enough to return wearing proper sect robes... well, no wonder Ming was proud to be proven right.

"Young Ke!" another voice called out. This one belonged to Old Wang, the vegetable seller. "Welcome back! Will you be staying long?"

"Unfortunately not," I replied. "Official sect business."

The children's eyes went wide at that, while Old Wang's expression turned more serious.

"The beast wave?" He lowered his voice, glancing at the kids. "We've been hearing rumors. Traders said they saw strange movements in the forests."

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Several nearby villagers drifted closer, trying to look like they weren't listening intently.

"My cousin's friend said the beasts are acting weird," one woman added. "Said they found a whole herd of spirit deer just standing still, staring at nothing."

"Like they were waiting for something," another villager chimed in.

I could see worry starting to spread through the small crowd. The last thing we needed was panic.

"The sect has sent multiple teams," I assured them, keeping my voice calm but confident. "We have experienced cultivators and solid defensive plans. The village will be protected. There’s nothing to worry about."

That wasn't entirely true, but panic wouldn't help anyone. Besides, we really did have a solid defensive plan. Probably. Assuming nothing went horrifically wrong, which... well, this was a cultivation world. Something always went horrifically wrong.

"But why did they send you?" Ming asked innocently. "You just started learning a few months ago."

Leave it to a child to ask the uncomfortable questions.

"I have... special skills," I explained. "I work with formations: you know, like the protective arrays around important buildings? That's why they needed me here."

"Like the ones on the granary?" Liu Wei asked excitedly. "My dad says those cost a fortune to maintain!"

"Similar, yes." I smiled, remembering how a young Ke Yin used to stare at those same formations, wondering how they worked. "Though mine are a bit different."

"Can you show us?" Ming bounced on his toes. "Please? Just a small one?"

I was about to refuse when I had a better idea. Reaching into my storage ring (causing appropriate gasps of amazement from my young audience), I pulled out one of my practice formation flags.

"See these patterns?" I knelt down to show them the intricate lines. "Each one has a specific purpose. This curve here channels spiritual energy, while these triangles help stabilize the flow..."

The children crowded around, their earlier questions about lightning and sword techniques forgotten in favor of this tangible piece of cultivator equipment. Even some of the adults edged closer for a better look.

"Your father will be proud," Old Wang said quietly. "He always said you had clever hands. Good to see you found a use for them beyond stitching cloth."

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The original Ke Yin's memories surfaced again: hours spent learning to make perfectly straight seams, his father's patient corrections, the quiet pride when he finally got it right...

"Speaking of Father," I straightened up, tucking the flag away. "I should probably..."

"Go," Old Wang shooed me away with a smile. "Before your mother hears you've been back for more than five minutes without visiting. She'll have my head for keeping you."

"But you'll show us more later, right?" Ming called after me as I started walking. "Promise?"

"If there's time," I hedged. "After we deal with the beast wave."

As I headed toward the shop, I could hear Ming already spinning elaborate tales to his friends about his "cultivator brother" who could make magical drawings that turned into dragons. Kids and their imaginations.

"Master," Azure spoke up, "I feel compelled to point out that your current heart rate is approaching levels typically associated with combat situations."

"Noted," I replied silently. "Any other helpful observations?"

"Your palms are sweating, and you've been standing in the middle of the street staring at a door for approximately ten seconds. Several villagers are beginning to give you concerned looks."

"...Right."

The shop: our home: looked exactly as I remembered it. Seven years ago, Father had converted the front room into a proper storefront, a decision that ten-year-old Ke Yin had found both exciting and a little sad.

The worn wooden sign that we'd painted together still hung above the door, the characters slightly uneven where young hands had helped with the work. Sample robes hung in the window Father had installed himself, the display somehow both professional and homey. Even the slightly crooked doorframe remained unfixed: a casualty of that same renovation that Father had always meant to correct but never got around to.

Behind the shop space, the rest of the building still served as our home, the division between business and family life marked by a simple curtain that Mother had embroidered with protective symbols.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward and pushed open the door. A small bell chimed: exactly as I remembered it: and a familiar voice called out from the back room.

"Just a moment!"

Mother.

The original Ke Yin's memories surged forward so strongly that for a moment I wasn't sure whose emotions I was feeling. The scent of tea and fabric dye, the soft sound of scissors cutting through silk, the way sunlight filtered through the windows... a strange warmth spread across my chest.

"Master," Azure's voice cut through the flood of memories, "you're here to help protect these people. Everything else is secondary."

He was right, of course. Right now, I needed to...

"Welcome to— Yin?"

A woman stood in the doorway between the shop and the back room, a half-finished robe in her hands.

She looked exactly as the memories showed - short stature, with long black hair tied back in a small bun, wearing a simple dress with an apron dusted in chalk marks from tailoring. Her eyes widened as she stared at me like she was seeing a ghost.

Which, in a way, she was.

"Mother,” I managed a smile.