The walk back to the house was made almost entirely in silence. Master Feng looked like he’d swallowed something sour and couldn't get the taste out of his mouth. Uncle Kho seemed lost in his own thoughts. As for Sen, the longer he thought about what had just happened, the less sense it seemed to make. Questions swirled in his head. He couldn’t help but question why those men had followed Master Feng back to the mountain. If they knew what he was, they couldn’t have believed they stood a chance against him. The difference in their cultivation was extreme. While Sen didn’t have a full sense of the differences, the fact that Uncle Kho had seemingly killed two core stage cultivators with no discernible effort painted a stark picture indeed. Yet, they had addressed him as though he were weaker than they were.

If he knew they were following him, why hadn’t he simply stopped them somewhere along the way? They had said something about a city, and Sen wasn’t aware of any nearby cities. He reasoned that must mean they had traveled a distance to arrive here. Master Feng had even tried to warn them off. Yet, the part that shook Sen the most was what Uncle Kho had done. It had been one thing to know that Uncle Kho had no love for sect members. It had been another thing entirely to witness the elder cultivator descend on those men like the bleak hand of Yama’s judgment. Nor did Sen imagine that was the first time such a scene had played out in Uncle Kho’s life. That young master had known what was coming as soon as Uncle Kho told them his name. He had known it, been certain enough of it, that he didn’t even try to bargain. He hadn’t tried to threaten. He had gone immediately to begging.

For a brief moment, Sen wondered what kind of things Uncle Kho might have done in the past to warrant such an extreme response. Then, Sen thought better of that line of thinking. He didn’t really know anything and, after examining his own heart, he realized he didn’t want to know those stories. Whatever curiosity Sen had about Master Feng’s past deeds had died a similar death after the spirit beast culling. While Sen could guess a few details from stray bits and pieces he had heard, he didn’t think knowing those stories would benefit him. Yet, based on what he’d seen in the very brief confrontation, that kind of violence was nothing new for either man. Master Feng had been calm, almost bored. Uncle Kho had been angry, but not even a little bit out of control. What Sen couldn’t decide was what, if anything, that would mean for him when he left the mountain.

Then, there was that word, Jianghu. Master Feng had said something about that before when he’d given Sen the jian. He told Sen that he’d need to know how to use it because it was common in the Jianghu. Sen remembered that he’d been too distracted by the sword and the spear at the time to give it much thought. When it hadn’t come up again, he’d let it go. Looking back, Sen wished that he’d pressed for more information. Sen realized that it was easy to think things like that when looking back, but he thought he would probably press for more information if presented with something similar now. He’d grown better at distinguishing between subjects that he did and didn’t need to know about. He’d become increasingly certain that anything closely tied to how other cultivators acted out in the world was information he needed.

“Well, I guess I’ll find out now,” Sen muttered to himself.

“What was that?” Master Feng asked with a distracted expression.

“Nothing, master,” said Sen, waving a hand as though to brush the question from the air.

Master Feng made a vague noise, which Sen read as acknowledgment. As much as he wanted and likely need to know what Master Feng planned to discuss, Sen was of the opinion that he could wait until Master Feng was ready to talk before learning this particular secret. So, they covered the rest of the distance to the house without breaking the silence, each of them weighed down with their own concerns. When they got back, Auntie Caihong was waiting for them, her expression grim.

“What happened?” She asked.

“Diving Falcon sect,” said Uncle Kho in a very flat voice.

Caihong closed her eyes for a moment and then asked, “Did any of them survive?”

“I sent one back with a message,” Uncle Kho answered. “More consideration than they deserved.”

“It’s my fault,” said Feng, cutting off whatever Caihong had planned to say next.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “How so?”

“I could have put a stop to it a few times, but I was trying to avoid drawing attention to myself.”

“Why?”

“Just because combat is my specialty, it doesn’t mean I love it so much I want to kill everyone who shows up to challenge the mighty Feng Ming. When word gets out that I’m in a city, people always show up to try to make a name for themselves. It’s like killing children. Anyway, I thought I lost them a ways back, but it seems I don’t have Sen’s knack for hiding. By the time I knew they were still trailing me, they were all but on the mountain already.”

Sen was relieved to have several of the burning questions in his head answered. At least now he knew the general shape of things. It seemed that Auntie Caihong did as well.

“In that case, I don’t suppose there was any helping it.”

“There wasn’t,” agreed Master Feng. “Still, it has made it necessary to have a discussion with Sen about the Jianghu.”

“You couldn’t put it off forever. That conversation was always coming.”

“I know. Well, I suppose we should get it over with.”

“I’ll make tea,” said Uncle Kho. “I could use some after that.”

When Uncle Kho went to make the tea, Caihong turned to Master Feng. “What was he like?”

“Honestly, if the young master had been a little less stupid, I think Jaw-Long might have let them go with a warning. Well, maybe a warning and a beating.”

“What did the young master do that was so stupid?”

“He threatened Sen’s life.”

Auntie Caihong sighed. “Well, that would have taken the decision out of Jaw-Long’s hands. Young fools.”

“Wait,” said Sen. “Why would that change anything?”

“You’re a guest here. Ming can take care of himself, but if a core stage cultivator threatens a guest a full stage beneath them, we can’t let it stand.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.”

“Remind me later, and I’ll walk you through guest rights. It’s something you should know. Don’t worry. I don’t expect my husband minded very much.”

“He did not,” said Uncle Kho, coming back with a tray.

Once everyone had a cup of tea, Master Feng looked at Sen. “I don’t suppose there’s any reason to drag this out. In simple terms, mortals live in one world, and cultivators live in another. The world that most cultivators live in is called the Jianghu. It’s a world with different rules and expectations. You saw a little piece of it today. Combat between cultivators is expected. Not all seek it out, but many do. Depending on how pathetic they are, some will seek out those who are weaker and insist that the weaker cultivator committed some wrong. It’s usually some nonsense about disrespecting their sect, or clan, or sister.”

“Ming,” chided Autie Caihong.

“Alright, that sister thing doesn't really happen. Mostly.”

Sen thought it over for a moment. “Am I obligated to fight?”

Auntie Caihong said, “No.”

Master Feng said, “Yes.”

Uncle Kho said, “Maybe.”

Sen sighed. “If you three can’t agree about this, how am I supposed to know what to do?”

“Technically speaking,” admitted Master Feng, “Caihong is right. You’re not obligated to fight. You can simply walk away.”

“Thank you,” said Auntie Caihong.

“Practically speaking, though, you’ll have to fight. Most of the people who issue those challenges will attack you if you try to walk away.”

“So, it doesn’t matter if they lied about an insult. It doesn’t matter if I want to walk away. They’ll turn it into a fight anyway.”

“Usually,” said Uncle Kho. “Even if they do let you walk away, though, it can prove more trouble than it’s worth. Instead of the fight, you have to deal with them spreading the tale that you’re a coward. If a story like that goes around, you’ll have a fight everywhere you go. You’ll find it harder to secure work or supplies.”

“Sounds like an enormous waste of time and a great way to end up dead,” complained Sen.

“It doesn’t usually end that way,” said Auntie Caihong. “Not unless there’s some kind of blood feud at work. There’s no honor in killing someone weaker than you. Killing someone is usually seen as a horrible failure of control.”

“I suppose that’s something. Is there more I need to know?”

“A lot,” said Master Feng with a snort. “You should pour yourself another cup of tea.”