Cultivation is Creation

I woke to an urgent pounding on my door, the kind that suggested someone was using their entire fist rather than just knuckles.

For a moment, I lay there blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling of the Wei family guest room, trying to orient myself. The events of yesterday flooded back – the breakthrough, building the terrain in my inner world, the Sun Family financially crippling the Wei Family, Wei Ye's strange expression as he left...

More pounding. Right.

"Master," Azure's voice held a note of concern, "there's no qi disturbance suggesting battle, but Wei Lin is quite determined to get your attention."

I rolled out of bed, grabbed an outer robe to throw over my sleeping clothes, and made my way to the door. When I opened it, I found Wei Lin, but his usual composed demeanor was completely shattered. His hair was disheveled as if he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly, and his eyes held a wild, almost desperate look.

"You have to come," he said, already grabbing my arm. "Now."

"Wei Lin, what's—" I started to ask, but he was already dragging me down the hallway. I had to stumble-skip to avoid falling as he practically ran, still maintaining his death grip on my sleeve.

"It's Father," he finally explained, his voice cracking slightly. "He's... he's ill. Really ill."

I frowned. Cultivators didn't get ill – our qi naturally fought off disease. And while Wei Ye claimed to be a mortal, I'd seen enough to doubt that. Even if he wasn't actively cultivating, he had access to enough resources that common illnesses shouldn't be an issue.