Asking Questions

[Day 5: The sun rises. You begin to travel in a southwest direction, looking for new opportunities…

As you are walking, you hear the sounds of chopping, and you suspect there are people in the distance. You cautiously approach…]

Lem was immediately interested.

Since he had left the village, he had yet to encounter a single person.

The closest he had come was finding footprints.

Lem knew that it was rare for villagers to venture out into the wilderness. 

Those from Willow Tree Village only left for Lang Town to pay protection taxes and to sell their harvest.

They would also occasionally send hunting parties to the forest fringe to ensure that there were no predators nearby that could threaten the villagers or their livestock.

Whenever they left the village premises, they always used paths that had already been cleared by martial school disciples.

Even so, it was considered an extremely dangerous undertaking.

Lem was cautiously optimistic.

If he had found people from Lang Town, then it would signify real progress towards finding an immortal technique.

[After walking for several minutes, you come across a group of workers. Before you can get close enough to determine what they are doing, two guards approach you aggressively.]

Seeing the hostile attitude of the guards and the spears in their hands, Lem's simulated self raised his arms up immediately. 

"I mean no harm," he said, in his most friendly voice.

One of the guards was an older, gruff-looking man, with a large beard and dark eyes. The other was clean-shaven and middle-aged.

His simulated self chose to direct his gaze at the middle-aged man.

He gave a pitiful, sad look.

"I was recently abandoned by my village, and I truly wish no ill upon you. I am not asking to be rescued, and I understand the seriousness of my infection. I only wish to ask a few questions." 

The guards exchanged glances.

"Wait a moment," the older man said. "Stay there and don't move."

They walked a short distance away and began talking to one another.

After a few moments, the guard returned.

The older man spoke up.

"You are a mortal with the signs of a late-stage infection, and yet you seem to be in good health. Can you explain this to us?"

Lem's simulated self opened his mouth, about to respond. A thought ran through his head, and he paused. "I can, but you have to show me a cultivation manual in return. I do not ask to keep it, I only want to read through it."

The older man raised an eyebrow, and the younger could not help but chuckle.

"You wish to see a cultivation manual? So do I!" the older man said. "The martial schools can easily make copies, but they guard them tighter than-than-" He frowned, trying to think of a phrase.

"Than a miser guards his coin?" the younger man offered.

"No, that's not it…damn!"

"Than a metal beast hoards its jewels?"

"Ah, it will come to me later. In any case, you have your answer. The manuals are kept secret, and not just anyone can take one out."

"Only their disciples have access to cultivation manuals, and they have to take strict vows that they will not disclose any matters regarding cultivation to outsiders." The younger man gave a slight, understanding smile.

"How can one become a disciple?" Lem's simulated self asked.

"That, there are strict requirements that are tested for," the younger man said. "The whole town has taken their tests at one point or another, and almost everyone fails at the initial stage. You see most mortals are born with minimal affinity for spirituality. In the eyes of the martial schools, it would be a waste of spiritual energy to train us."

[Despite the negative response, you feel heartened.]

"The town? Do you mean Lang Town?"

"Aye, that is where we are from," the younger man said.

The older man frowned, and Lem's simulated self pressed his advantage. "Do you know how one would travel to Lang Town?"