"You shall not brandish your blades and shields in these streets, for you may be powerful, but you are in someone else's home." The words flowed through like a light summer breeze. Nanashi could almost taste the scent of flowers from the words spoken.

  A woman with long silver hair and wearing the garb of a cultivator walked over, tapping her palm with a fan, as the cultivators who were ready to start a bout in the middle of the street held their hands in the gesture of respect. "We apologise for our full heartiness, senior sister Ming Mao." " Both of them had their gazes lowered to the ground, but Nanashi just shrugged and headed to another stall that was abandoned earlier, but the woman seemed to notice her fan no longer tapping her hand as she looked at her. Before she looked at the men, she placed her fan to her left ear while tilting her head.

  "If you must, spare the streets are unadvised, so leave and go to the compound or back to the sect." Reaching the stall, Nanashi started looking at the herbs, wondering what they were and what medical uses they had. Ming Mao moved her fan once more, noting the absence of any fear on Nanashi's face at the earlier possibility of cultivators being in conflict.

  Ming walked over while tapping the tip of her fan before standing next to her. "Do you not fear insulting me for not showing the proper respect, mortal?"

  Nanashi, stopping her parroting of the herbs and seeds, looked at Ming Mao and made a proper hand gesture as a greeting before looking back at the plants. She did not trust herself not to verbally quake in fear, knowing what this woman could do to her.

  "If death were a possibility as a mortal, I could do nothing to stop you, let alone fight back." That would be like trying to fight a natural disaster

  "You have an odd accent if I may aaskyou from the empire or somewhere rural?" With that question, Nanashi shook her head. No way in the seven hells would she be able to answer that without sounding insane or being picked up on as a liar.

  "Does it matter that one's origin wouldn't loyalty or beliefs matter more in these times?" Ming was impressed by her change from an impression of this possibly stupid mortal to one of genuine curiosity.

  "It seems I was impolite. You have permission to refer to me as Lady Ming Mao, or Ming is fine." The young girl turned to look at Ming, with obvious discomfort on her face, but she showed the proper courtesy in returning the offered greeting.

  "You may refer to me as Nanashi, Lady Ming." An odd name for an odd girl, the name having never graced Ming's ears before.

  "Nanashi, might I know what your name means or where it is from? I have never heard such a unique name before." Others might have found those questions intrusive and called Ming out on her rude behavior, yet the young girl, no Nanashi, did not seem to mind.

  Nanashi looked the woman up and down. Ming Mao wore clothes reminiscent of a sunset: yellow, purple, red, and orange. As she stood regally, her folding fan closed as she smiled. She looked to be in her thirties, but with her cultivation, she could be hundreds of years old and still be unable to tell. She stood with a straight back; she had calluses on the tips of her fingers, probably from embroidery in her free time.

  Her folding fan has some small, loose strings, indicating it is either used often or one of the few items she has embroidered. There are also calluses somewhat visible on her thumbs, probably from swinging a sword. Conclusion: She is a rich cultivator, most likely with a stable position in her sect. From the reactions of those men, she may be powerful or not, but she tends not to hold back against others in a fight.

  Just as Nanashi observed Ming, she did the same to her.

  Nanashi, dressed in tan clothes covered in dirt and grime, with red blisters forming on her palms, probably from pulling the cart by her side. Her clothes suggest poverty, but her natural greeting and proper courtesy show the possibility of once being part of a well-off family. Her indigo hair seems long, and like she didn't even attempt to style it, but from how it flows past her shoulder blades and doesn't look like a mess, she has an understanding of how to look presentable in some standings.

  Mortal is possibly 16 and malnourished, based on the fine cracks in her fingernails and the dry, crumbly look of her hair. Her body shape revealed her malnourishment and that she is still in the throes of puberty.

  Everything suggests from her looks that she is poor and a beggar, but everything in her cart proves some form of financial windfall. By the heavens, she must have been lucky or smart enough to choose a target to steal from.

  Ming didn't care either way who she was to intrude on a mortal's actions, even if her actions so far might get her robbed or killed.

  "Nameless," Nanasi's words snapped ming out of her introspection. "Pardon?" She must have lost herself in her own world. What does Nanashi mean by Namelsess?

  "My name translates to Nameless." Nanashi's words coiled in Ming's gut, but Nanashi wore a happy expression; she did not even seem upset that her name pretty much says she doesn't have one.

  "It doesn't bother you?" Scrunching her brown Nanashi, she shook her head.

  "Why should it? Beauty is in simplicity just as much as it is in complexity. However, I will say that your questions are starting to come across as a little rude. I quite like my name." Nanashi was getting a little annoyed. Yes, her name means "nameless," but it's meant to evoke depth and anonymity. Security in the unknown, if anything.

  "I see. I apologize if I insulted you."

  "I accept your apology." They stood there quietly as people returned to the streets, taking back their wares and starting to sell once more. Nanashi and Ming stare at eachother without backing down. Nanashi because she has no clue what is going on and wants to leave, but is also nervous about insulting a cultivator even more.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Ming was lost in her own mind, her curiosity burning ever brighter as this girl still had yet to look afraid or try to make their relations seem closer as the stall owner came over. Nanashi took action in desperation, purchasing herbs, asking questions, and seeking out what she could use to grow them at home.

  Ming didn't leave, though she just stared with her eyes never leaving the back of Nanashi's head. Although internally, Nanashi was screaming.

  'What is up with her?'

  'Why the hell is she still staring at me?'

  'Do I have something in my hair?'

  'This is stressing me out, lady, can you fuck off?'

  Yet her protests were internal, and unlike her prior self, which was easy to read, this body had a very convincing poker face.

  "Do you wish to see something interesting?" Ming spoke those words, and Nanashi saw her chance not to get closer but to get far away from this insistent woman.

  "Thank you for the offer, Lady Ming, but I must postpone any such offers. I have many things needing to be done at home, and I should be leaving quite soon." Let her down gently, let her down...

  "That is quite all right if you are worried, I shall aid you in your travels and help you return home after."

  'Lady, leave me alone!'

  Nanashi was now cracking her legs, and her legs trembled; she looked even paler, so she grabbed a mint leaf and started chewing. The freshness tingled on my tongue, making her focus on that instead of the crushing dread and bubbling anger in my roiling stomach. Nanashi breathed, moving the leaf from between her teeth to under her tongue, sucking for a couple of moments, and swallowing the leaf.

  Ming was well confused by Nanashi's actions, but the cracks in her calm demeanor faded, and she returned to looking indifferent but not rude—a polite indifference.

  "If I must, then I shall. Although it would be much appreciated if this could come at a later date, I am grateful for your invitation. Errands must be completed before dark." Ming knew that the way Nanashi was speaking, she didn't want to follow for whatever she believed to be interesting for the young mortal woman—a polite refusal suggesting a later date without offering an actual time.

  Ming, though, was not interested in hearing no. She was a cultivator; why should she take no for an answer from a mortal? So she acted on her beliefs.

  "Follow me." Nanashi, although not originally from this world, knew the card that was placed. She is a cultivator, and a cultivator will always get their way if a mortal is involved.

  Nanashi followed unwillingly.

  Ming was walking ahead, looking at their surroundings, while walking towards the center of the city. The center of the city? Nanashi felt a droplet of hope, but it died before she could even fully believe in it. She hoped that she would be turned away because she was a poor mortal who wasn't properly dressed for that city district. She was neither a cultivator nor rich, so she would be turned away, right? Apparently, being guided by a cultivator doesn't mean security will stop you from entering.

  Odd and pitiful looks, maybe, but never stopped from entering. Nanashi felt her stomach roil from stress, and her hangover seemed to decide to use her skull as a drum, making it clear she was still in rough shape.

  "What are your thoughts on immortality?" A whispering part of herself that had no sense of preservation wanted to blow off the question and ignore Ming in retaliation for forcing her hand. Another part of her was very reminiscent of an old series she watched as a kid, which said, 'No thank you, I choose Life.'

  "Depends." Ming didn't stop walking with Nanashi, but she kept talking. "And what do you mean by that?"

  "Exactly as I mean, it depends on what may happen, what will be, and what is. It depends." She smirked, her fan hiding her lip, so that her face was visible to Nanashi at this moment.

  "Give me an example." Nanashi used to contemplate and imagine being immortal as a child in her other life. In this life, she imagined herself a cultivator, one who pursued the heavens and immortality.

  "If everyone I ever grew to love and care about were to perish, depending on how they died, I would either seek immortality to get vengeance or I woulddespisee the concept of immortality."

  "Dislike being an immortal? Why?"

  "Because what's the point of immortality of strength if you are unable to protect those you care about when it matters. Although I will admit I am greedy enough to keep my distance from others if it means I won't have any leashes preventing me from attempting to become immortal. I don't want to die after all."

  "Oh well, I suggest being greedy. You can't take fate by the tail if you have no greed to take action."

  Nanashi could agree that greed was why she was in debt, but now she is free of that debt once more due to greed.

  "As long as one controls their desires rather than lets their desires control them, then I must agree."

  Nanashi might have stolen that saying, but it seemed to strike something within for Ming as she muttered the words quietly enough that she would be unheard by anyone but another cultivator.

  "Control your desire, but don't let your desire control you."

  They walked quietly, as quietly as a hand-pulled cart can be on a stone-paved road. Not that they did a terrible job with the road, you can tell it is made out of rough stone, and it is not a very modern-looking city.

  "Now, tell me, Nanashi, what do you think of cultivators?"

  Nanashi didn't know whether that was a baited question, and she screamed internally.

  'Strong egotistical fucks that get their way due to strength and can become immortal while seeking the path to the heavens or whatever they see enlightenment as.'

  Instead, she nodded and spoke after coming up with a better way of saying something truthful without insults.

  "They are those who seek enlightenment while striving for the heavens. Unlike mortals, though, they can improve their station through endless efforts and succeed in nearly all ways." Maybe she was laying it on thick.

  Ming felt pride swell in her chest. She had not realized that the words that were said were meant to cover her true thoughts of insults. The insults are because Ming forced Nanashi into going where she kept refusing to go.

  Ming was proud of her path, her seeking a path to the heavens, so being told by a mortal that cultivators are those who put in so much effort and succeed was like having her ego boosted, and she preened under the compliment. She may be several centuries older than this young girl, but she still has her youthful pride. Besides her looks, she might as well be mentally the same as how she presents herself.

  "Would you want to be a cultivator?" Nanashi almost fell even while pulling her cart, stubbing her toe into the ground with more force than necessary. Sucking in a sharp breath, she nearly started to curse in English but stopped herself by biting her tongue.

  Taking deep breaths, she looked at Ming. You know what? Decorum can go fuck off. She is dealing with someone who could make her seem like a smear of ketchup, and she is already overwhelmed, so you know what. Let's do this.

  "Why are you asking me these questions? Where are you taking me? Is there a purpose for all this? Also, if anyone has not had any desire to become a cultivator throughout their life, I would call them a liar."

  Ming seemed not to care about the outburst and spoke calmly, which felt almost demeaning.

  "Well, so far, you have caught my interest. Your mindset so far also seems invaluable to a cultivator, so I deemed it a good thing if you became one."

  Say what now?

  'Cultivator me a cultivator?'

  "Boom!"

  Before Nanashi could even vocalize her surprise, they had already entered an arena, and a man was sent flying between her and Ming.

  It was the two men from before.

  "Come at me and let this daddy show you your place."

  Seriously, why, Daddy?

  "Let this son show you your place, old bastard."

  The young man thrown between them leaped over and back into the center of their arena, flipping midair to kick the man.