Modern Patriarch

Yao Shen’s mouth twitched slightly, as he accepted the new spoon Shadow had procured for him without comment. The light golden soup awaited him, imbued with nothing but the lowest ranking of herbs, a few mortal spices and a dash of finely chopped vegetables, soaking in and adding depth to the flavor.

He savored the mouthful of soup, a contented expression forming on his face. The soup was no more than the sum of its parts, and Yao Shen was a man who had sampled many delicacies across his two hundred year journey in Eliria. Yet, the simplicity of the soup, the warmth the liquid flowing down his throat provided him…. It evoked memories of his wife’s cooking, making up for what it lacked in fine ingredients and skillful chefs that his palette was accustomed to with… heart.

Seven decades worth of memories were not something that he could recollect and sort immediately, but now that he had successfully ascended he knew that all would come back with time. A flicker of amusement bubbled up in his heart at the thought of thinking of his wife’s cooking as lacking, but he was not quite sure why. He did not mean it as an insult, after all: to use nothing but the mundane to create the magical was a blessing, one born out of passion and love over the endless struggle for power this world considered a ‘blessing’.

Perhaps the young girl in front of him yet lacked a love for the culinary arts, and in a world where the strong could impose their will over the weak, that was understandable. But Yao Shen had seen many disciples, and the passion gleaming in her eye did not go unnoticed. If her passion persisted, then perhaps she would be helpful in his plans of ‘modernization’, but that was a distant thought.

As for Shadow…. Just thinking about her made Yao Shen want to sigh. She was his first, and eldest true disciple, and she went by many titles. Her existence probably made him an even bigger eyesore in the eyes of the legacy families, for one independent powerhouse had already stretched their patience thin.

Yao Shen was no prodigy, and it was his ability to accept his own lack of talent that had let him progress this far. Shadow on the other hand, was a true, bonafide genius. A prodigy among prodigies, a scion blessed by the heavens. One would wonder why Yao Shen would take such a gifted individual under his wing, one that was the very antithesis of his existence but Shadow’s past…. was complicated, to say the least. She was an orphan that Yao Shen had found on his travels, born with Pure Shadow Spiritual Roots— implying a 90% or higher purity percentage. This was one of Yao Shen’s most closely guarded secrets, and he had killed to keep it a secret.

Of course, others perhaps suspected the truth— but their speculations were only that, and Shadow had never displayed talent beyond what a cultivator with 65% purity would be capable of. Shadow Spiritual Roots, or for that matter, any single element spiritual roots were one of the most coveted bloodline inheritances, and it showed why.

Age eight, early-stage qi formation. Age fifteen, late-stage qi formation. Age twenty one, early stage foundation establishment. Age twenty five, mid stage foundation establishment. Age twenty eight, high stage foundation establishment. Age twenty nine, peak stage foundation establishment. Age thirty eight, early stage core formation. Age forty five, peak stage core formation.

He did not know when she would cross the barrier, but the thought of having a nascent soul cultivator a quarter of his age was a frightening concept even for Yao Shen. He had reached the coveted stage only after a century of struggle, but for Shadow it was almost as easy as breathing.

But her growth, as much as it brought pride and prestige to the sect and his own reputation… stung at him. Without his memories from Earth, he would never be able to understand why, or perhaps even dismiss the thought outright. Eliria was far too rigid and conservative in its ways, but now the reason seemed so obvious that his own obliviousness astounded him.

A part of it still found it hard to accept, a resistance welling up from the values and ideals the world around him had instilled in him with, but he would not deny it any longer. He had come to think of Shadow as his own daughter, and her behavior concerned him. Stung at him. Frustrated him to no end.

As a cultivator, controlling one’s emotions was a paramount concern. Those who lived as long as him could not be lacking in intelligence, strength or resourcefulness, or their journey would have never taken them that far. But when Yao Shen recalled the day he had discovered Shadow, an unfamiliar rage bubbled up in his gut. It was a foreign sensation for Yao Shen, one who had trained himself to dull his emotions and react with rationality when necessary— for this rage eluded him, and any attempt to cage it only intensified it. Cold, vicious rage that would destroy the world if he let it out, one that promised murder and vengeance.

It was then that he realized that this rage was not entirely his own, or rather, its origin lay in the memories he had inherited from his past life. Yao Shen was stunned, shocked that his previous self, a harmless businessman who had never known combat, could bear such fury in his heart. His fist clenched tightly, and for a moment Yao Shen wished to tear through the Bloodsoul forest and lay devastation to all that crossed his path.

A few seconds later, rationality and experience prevailed, the anger once again contained. He did not wish to further deliberate the matter and his movements were concealed enough that no one, barring Elder Han, detected his brief instability. He, wisely, chose not to comment upon the subject.

The events of that day had left an indelible mark upon Shadow, and sadly the effects manifested by the events of that day were only encouraged, and even revered in a society of cultivators. Shadow did not care about interacting with her fellow peers, and neither did she particularly care about cultivation. It was only a tool for her, a means to an end— one that let her kill as many Demonic Cultivators as she could, her methods getting increasingly refined over the years. Even then, she was the number one core disciple cultivator, a fact that had brought him great pride now tasting like bitter ash in his mouth.

Shadow only cared about one thing, and that was protecting him. She had called him a ‘naïve old fool’, and then swore to protect him from those who sought to harm him or exploit his kindness. It was a ridiculous notion, and he was likely the only Soul Emperor with a Core Formation bodyguard. She even went as far as to taste his food, even though the art of blending poisons that could affect Nascent Soul Cultivator's had been long lost in the Era of Turmoil, let alone a Soul Emperor. Even if one existed, it would have to evade the full scrutiny of his divine sense, not to mention the political consequences the existence of such a poison would cause.

That was not what bothered him though. Shadow…. seemed to be determined to die before him, if it came to that, and that tore at him far more than anything in the world could. He had tried many approaches to change her perspective, even going as far as to forbid her from guarding him once. He had only wished that he had his memories from Earth back then, for that had been a grave mistake. Once he barred her she grew listless, like a wilted flower. What little interest she showed in other pursuits evaporated without a trace, and even her cultivation started to regress. Terrified that he would create a heart demon for Shadow, he had immediately rescinded his words and profusely apologized to her.

Thankfully, she was back to ‘normal’ a few days later, but it did not change the fact that Yao Shen had failed, left without any cards to play. Earth’s wisdom had a terminology for such an affliction, but alas it carried no way to cure her. Shadow may have lived for close to five decades, but emotionally she was no older than twenty or twenty one, most of her time spent cultivating and fighting.

Had she not witnessed his true Dao Domain, and had Yao Shen not greatly exaggerated his chances of success, she would have never let him go in the first place. Shadow would never display her true emotions in public, but he knew that the past day must have been nerve-wracking for her. He had many contingency plans in place in the event of his death, but when he saw Shadow’s face he instantly knew that she had been crying— and it had occurred to him how ascension was such a selfish act.

In his musings, Yao Shen realized that the bowl of soup had long since finished. Turning his head to Elder Han, he nodded, sending a message to him with his divine sense. The young chef would be compensated handsomely for the meal, and it would be seen to it that no one dared to appropriate the wealth from her possession.

“That was excellent,” Yao Shen spoke loudly, his attention catching the attention of nearby disciples trying to act natural as they eavesdropped. He had a feeling that this little stall was going to explode in popularity, if the girl continued to run it. In a way it was a little test of her business acumen and inclination towards the culinary arts, perhaps she would surprise him.

“Thank you for your patronage, Patriarch. This little one does not deserve such praise,” The young girl said with a gentle bow, her words spoken with confidence and respect.

Yao Shen nodded, as Elder Han placed a pouch on the table and said his thanks. A foundation establishment guardian jogged over, no doubt having received a command from Elder Han, and began to explain the situation to the young girl, assuring her that her newfound wealth would not cause her trouble. Such micro details were important to ensure that gifts did not become curses, and Yao Shen would not miss on such a crucial detail.

Yao Shen and Elder Han had already resumed their walk through the outer exchange, with Shadow walking behind them and giving intimidating glares to anyone whose body language hinted at a desire to approach.

He knew though, that his moment of tranquility could not last much longer. It was time to confront the council of elders, and then prepare for tomorrow’s battle. Regardless of how the meeting went, he had a feeling that it would be interesting, to say the least.