The journey back to the grotto is swift, with the only item of note being Zhurong meeting Yuanding.

  "I take it you're the caretaker of my new gingko?" Zhurong's words are blunt and to the point, making it clear that even if she is not the de jure owner of the giant gingko, she is its de facto master. Who would dare challenge her claim?

  "I am called Yuanding and you are only half right. I am the caretaker, yes," Yuanding says, back straight and eyes alight with defiant fire, "but it is not your gingko."

  Zhurong's lips quirk at the corners, her brows wriggling like inchworms, "Ooo, feisty. I like that in a man."

  "Would that I could say the same, but loose women were never of interest to me."

  "Truly scathing," Zhurong snorts as she flicks a flippant hand through the air, "Regardless of the desire smoldering between us, I find myself in need of a gingko caretaker."

  "I have no interest in working for you, so I will continue my work for the gingko's sake."

  "Works for me," Zhurong smiles as Fa Fo Lung groans, his head in his hands.

  "Alright," he claps his hands, the thunderous sound alone enough to strip bare a circle of grass around him as the talisman expert yelps in fear, "that's enough verbal sparring for me. I'm going back to the fortress and, if you need me, I'll be preparing for when the Weeping Stone decides to hunt us down."

  Not waiting for an answer, Lung drives a foot against the ground. The earth shakes, Lung's wake a knee-deep crater as he rockets into the air. His fingers blur through a dozen different shapes as he ascends. Thunder breaks as a sword of ice condenses beneath his feet, stopping his powerful leap just as it becomes a fall. Leaning forward, perfectly balanced on the frozen sword, he suddenly starts zipping across the sky as he heads dead east.

  Ren stares at the crater, mouth slightly agape as the talisman expert predictably squeaks in fear. Such power wielded so casually... Ren shakes his head, dispelling the thought with contempt as he grits his teeth and straightens his spine. He is a cultivator! He has no business acting so shocked when other cultivators use their qi!

  Zhurong blows a raspberry and shakes her head, "Show-off."

  Exactly.

  Passing into the grotto, Zhurong lets loose a sharp whistle as she beholds the gingko. Its boughs spread far across the sky, enveloping all within its branches.

  "Incredible," she laughs, eyes full of glee, "Oh, man, I'm gonna get so much cultivation done here, might even make a Copper Core!"

  Copper Core? Ren tilts his head to the side, the lessons of the past resurfacing as he considers Zhurong's words. Zhurong has a Golden Core, right? Why would she care about breaking through into Copper when she's already completely surpassed it? Speaking of Zhurong's Golden Core, she has a Golden Core, saint ciboire!

  Ren can't help but laugh as the sheer enormity of his situation hits him all at once. Here he is, a fresh cultivator, going toe-to-toe in the verbal ring with a Golden Core! There are less than ten-thousand cultivators at the Golden Core in all the world. For one of those ten-thousand to be a bandit is unthinkable.

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  Bandits simply do not have the resources to refine a core to golden. It is a fundamental impossibility. Even Ren, with how limited his knowledge of the deeper mysteries of cultivation is, knows that.

  And yet, here stands a shining example of such an impossibility. If Ren were to voice this fact, Zhurong would probably just laugh and say something annoying like 'cultivators achieve the impossible every day'.

  Cultivators of the Golden Core are the culmination of hundreds of years of cultivation. To achieve such a staggering height, one must first create a Copper Core—which in itself is the work of twenty or more years—and then refine said Copper Core into a *Silver* Core over the course of an average human lifespan. According to Ren's studies, the average cultivator creates a Silver Core and then stops. They go no further, they plateau there and that is their end. A couple hundred years later, assuming they don't find a way to prolong their life through alchemy or other means, they die of old age.

  To create a Golden Core requires unthinkable amounts of dedication. It requires such a staggering amount of time that only those with the backing of a sect could possibly have a hope of achieving it. You have to focus all of your time, forgoing sleep, socializing, and every meal on the clock, on cultivating.

  If a Golden Core cultivator is a bandit, that can only mean one thing: they, for some reason, left their old sect. No sect would just allow a cultivator of such strength to leave... which just might be what this 'Weeping Stone' that Lung mentioned is; Zhurong's old sect.

  But why is Zhurong now talking about forming a Copper Core? If it is some kind of a ploy to conceal her true strength, then why isn't she suppressing her qi beacon? It doesn't make any sense!

  "You've done a real good job here, Yuanding," Zhurong says, clapping Yuanding on the shoulder, "This is the biggest gingko I've ever seen!"

  Yuanding grunts, rolling his eyes. Turning to the side, he jabs a finger at the talisman expert and says, "You, come with me. I will show you to the talisman."

  The talisman expert quails, eyes darting to Zhurong who sighs and nods. "Go on, Tally, you can't hide behind my skirts forever."

  Tally gulps, "I-I guess..." He follows close behind Yuanding as they disappear into his hut, leaving Ren alone with Zhurong.

  Zhurong rocks on her heels, still looking at the gingko, as something seems to come to mind. She jostles into motion, digging around in the folds of her clothes as she searches for something. Ren blinks as Zhurong cheers, having found whatever it was beneath one of the plates of her armor.

  "There it is!" Zhurong laughs, a tiny box in her hand. Made of a red wood and built with a latching hinge, the box nestles neatly in her palm. "Here, kid, catch."

  She tosses the box to Ren, who snatches it from the air, "What is this?"

  "A pill," Zhurong yawns as she scratches her burnt cheek, "It'll heal your wounds in a couple-a days, long as you don't aggravate them or anything."

  "Why are you giving me this?" Ren's fingers tighten around the box, half out of a desire to keep it and half to stop himself from throwing it away as hard as he can.

  "Cause I want you," Zhurong grins as Ren coughs and sputters, "in my gang."

  "W-what?" Ren fights down the rising blush, completely unprepared for the sudden attack. Oh, Heavens, she's found an angle that works on him. Casual displays of power didn't work, but apparently out-of-pocket sensuality does? Guide Star preserve him.

  Zhurong snickers, eyes shining as she watches Ren struggle, "You've impressed me, and that's the truth." She shrugs as she strolls towards the gingko, "You don't need to have an answer now, just give it some thought, yeah?"

  Ren pauses for a long moment, "...Do I have to give the pill back if I refuse?"

  She snorts and waves off his concerns, "Nah, that's just an appetizer."

  Ren purses his lips, eyes drifting to the pill box. She's acting differently, more... Not casual, per se, more... How to put it? If Zhurong normally puts up a front or some kind of fa?ade, whether it be sensuality or casual strength or what have you, the way she's acting now... It has an air of authenticity to it, like she actually means the things she's saying.

  "I always need more cultivators," Zhurong says as she comes to a stop beneath the gingko. Folding her legs beneath her, she takes a meditative pose beneath its boughs, "and you need a teacher."

  Ren stares at the ground, dread shame rising within as sharp pain drives through his tongue.