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Chapter 1: The Escape

As he ran, Sen felt the burn deep in his legs and in his lungs. He could hear the shouts of the noble boys behind him, close, always too close, and tried to run even faster. Sometimes, he could get away. He hoped that today would be one of those days. He clutched the precious burden in his arms as tight as he dared. Not too tightly, or he might damage it, but tight enough not to drop it. His long hair whipped into his eyes for a moment, obscuring his vision. He prayed that no one would step in front of him. Another moment and the wind carried that offending hair out of his eyes. He dodged around a corner, put on a last burst of speed, and cut down a particularly dark passageway between a noodle shop and a merchant’s shop.

It wouldn’t have worked during the full light of day, but it might be dark enough with dusk settling over the town. He crouched behind a pile of trash and ignored the baleful look that a rat gave him. He tried to still his breathing and slow his heart, sure that everyone could hear that thunderous pounding clear from the street. The moments passed with agonizing slowness. He could hear the people on the street, talking, bartering, or simply making their way home after the day’s work. Those lucky, respectable people who could get work. People who could buy their food instead of stealing it to avoid starving. People who proudly bore a family name.

The shouting of the other boys drew near. He heard them out there, confused by his sudden disappearance. They searched up and down the street for a seeming eternity, one even took a few steps down the passage before the others called him back. Sen didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust them. They’d tricked him before. Tricked him, and then beat him senseless for offending his betters. Offending my betters, he thought with a burst of rage. I offend them by existing. So, he remained crouched in that dark passage, fending off the ever more aggressive rats that could smell what he had clutched in his hand. He waited there in the growing darkness for more than an hour before he finally, cautiously, made his way out. He peeked around the corners, searching the street for his tormentors, but they had apparently given up on him.

He wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t take some slim satisfaction in foiling their instruction of their inferior. Although, it meant that he would need to remain even more vigilant in the days to come. Those vicious, noble bastards had a long memory for perceived slights. He might not get away next time. This time, though, this time he had gotten away. He trudged away from the meager protection of the passageway and headed to the closest thing he had to a home. His legs ached terribly from the desperate, panicked flight, but at least his lungs didn’t hurt anymore. He’d learned to take his blessings, few though they were, where he could find them. Still, it was a long walk back. He sighed, said a quiet prayer to whatever gods took pity on children and thieves, and set out.

***

Full night had settled over the town of Orchard’s Reach by the time Sen arrived. He could even see the moon rising over the mountain that cast its long shadow over the population, day in and day out, year after year. Sen wasn’t given to deep thoughts, usually reserving his mental energy for survival, but he paused there for a moment. The moon was full and hung there, like a great luminous fruit that had blossomed from the rocky soil of the mountain. Something twinged in him then, as he gazed at that vast, distant orb that some thought was a goddess. He yearned, just for a moment, to hang there in the sky as the moon did, to cast a light over all, a lesser light than the sun, but perhaps a kinder one as well.

Then, he shook himself. Foolish thoughts. He’d never leave this place. Never assume a different station. Oh, there were stories of mighty cultivators who rose to greatness from humble beginnings, but those were just stories. Those things didn’t happen to real people. Real people lived the life that fate had cast for them, some prospering, and all too many worn away by too much need and not enough coin.

He reached out and knocked on the door. Then, he waited. There was no point in being impatient. He watched the moon in the relative silence. He listened as the night insects made their own strange music. He used to count the seconds and minutes, but he’d grown at least a little wise in his short years. She would arrive when she arrived. After a minute, or ten, the door cracked open. A dark, piercing eye glared out at him.

“What do you want, boy?”

Sen didn’t say anything, simply uncovered his hard-won treasure. She understood what he was offering. She opened the door enough for him to scurry inside before she closed the door firmly behind him. Grandmother Lu gave him a suspicious look, but she didn’t ask any questions. He handed her the loaf of bread. She took the food with care. Sen knew that her hands hurt her more days than they didn’t. She gestured with her head, and he joined her at the table. She carefully cut part of the loaf into slices with a knife that looked as old and worn as Grandmother Lu herself. She took two slices and handed him two. She conjured a small orange from somewhere. She regarded the fruit for a long moment before handing it to him.

“Peel this,” she ordered.

He took great care in peeling the orange as he didn’t wish to damage the precious flesh inside. He handed it back to the old woman. She took equal care in dividing the fruit into its individual segments before carefully pushing half to him. They ate slowly. Grandmother Lu had been of a different station, once, Sen was sure of that. He wasn’t sure if tragedy or dishonor had left her in her current circumstances, but she clung to a few ideals. Eating should be done with at least a little dignity. Sen wasn’t sure if he felt the same way about it, but he respected her wishes.

After they ate, Sen collapsed onto a small pad that just happened to always be empty when he came by. He didn’t sleep there every night. In fact, he almost never visited Grandmother Lu unless he had some morsel to share, but on those few, terrible, icy nights when he had shown up empty-handed, she’d simply gestured to the little pad without comment. Sen had no family, no blood, but he did have Grandmother Lu. That one, tiny comfort was enough that he drifted off to sleep and did not dream.

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Comments 10

  1. Offline
    Tir
    Tir
    40
    Pretty good start ngl bossgif
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  2. Offline
    Shiki519
    30
    I guess some inconvenience had already been taken care of... So ty for that... or maybe it was not changed at all XD

    I actually like how the author present the story somehow.. idk, seems very gentle for some reason... it's like the narrator has a gentle and soothing voice when i read this.. maybe it's just coincidence satisfied
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  3. Offline
    Kingleo
    00
    Chapter 1: The Escape

    The Unintended Cultivator

    As Sen's feet pounded against the cobblestones, he felt a searing burn in his legs and lungs. The echoing shouts of the noble boys pursued him relentlessly, always too close for comfort. He pushed himself to run even faster, hoping against hope that today would be the day he would outwit them. Clutching his precious burden close to his chest, he struck a delicate balance between holding it securely and avoiding any damage. For a brief moment, his long hair obscured his vision, but the wind swept it away, granting him a clearer path. With a swift maneuver, he darted around a corner, summoning his last reserves of energy to cut through a dimly lit passageway nestled between a noodle shop and a merchant's establishment.

    During the full light of day, his plan would have surely failed, but with dusk settling over the town, the fading light provided some measure of concealment. Seeking refuge behind a mound of discarded refuse, Sen paid no heed to the disdainful gaze of a rat that scurried past him. He focused on steadying his breath and slowing his frantic heartbeat, silently praying that his thunderous pounding wouldn't give him away. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as the sounds of people on the street—talking, haggling, and returning home from a day's labor—reached his ears. They were the fortunate ones, the respectable ones who could afford sustenance without resorting to theft, who proudly carried their family names.

    Gradually, the shouts of the pursuing boys grew nearer, their confusion palpable as they searched the street for any sign of their elusive quarry. One of them even took a few steps down the passageway before his companions called him back. Sen, however, had learned not to trust them, not to trust anyone. They had deceived him before, luring him into traps only to unleash their fury upon him for daring to defy his supposed superiors. "Offending my betters," he thought bitterly, his rage fueling his determination to evade them. "I offend them simply by existing." So, he remained crouched in the shadows of that obscure passage, fending off the increasingly audacious rats that detected the scent of what he held in his grasp. He waited, his patience stretched thin, for over an hour until he finally mustered the courage to cautiously emerge. Peering around the corners, scanning the street for any lingering threat, he found that his tormentors had seemingly given up.

    While a modicum of satisfaction simmered within him for having thwarted their attempts to control their "inferior," he knew he must remain vigilant in the days to come. Those vicious noble scoundrels possessed long memories when it came to perceived slights, and next time, escape might not be within his grasp. But for now, at least, he had succeeded. Weariness weighed heavily on his aching legs, the remnants of his desperate flight, but his lungs no longer burned with the same intensity. Sen had learned to embrace the small blessings that life offered, no matter how meager they seemed. Taking a deep breath, he sighed, quietly invoking the mercy of whichever deities might look upon children and thieves, before resuming his arduous journey back to the only semblance of a home he had.

    The town of Orchard's Reach was now cloaked in the embrace of the night as Sen reached his destination. The moon ascended over the mountain, casting its gentle glow upon the inhabitants below. As he gazed at the full moon, a radiant orb resembling a luminous fruit sprouting from the rocky soil, an inexplicable pang tugged at his heart. For a fleeting moment, he yearned to hang among the stars like the moon, bestowing a softer, more benevolent light upon the world—a light lesser than the sun, yet kinder in its embrace.

    Quickly shaking off such whimsical thoughts, Sen chastised himself for entertaining notions of transcending his current circumstances. Leaving this place, assuming a different station—those were nothing but tales spun from the fabric of fantasy. Mighty cultivators rising from humble beginnings existed only in stories, not in the realm of flesh and blood. Real people, like Sen, were condemned to live out the path that fate had woven for them. Some found prosperity, but far too many withered away under the burdens of unending need and insufficient means.

    Summoning his resolve, Sen rapped gently on the door, patiently awaiting the response. Impatience served no purpose; he knew she would arrive in her own time. As he stood there, the night unfolded around him, with insects filling the air with their enigmatic symphony. Previously, he used to count the seconds and minutes, but with the passage of time, he had grown wiser, understanding that she would come when she deemed it right. After a minute or perhaps ten, the door creaked open, revealing a piercing, inquisitive eye.

    "What do you want, boy?" a voice inquired.

    Sen remained silent, his eyes fixated on the treasured item he clutched in his hands. She understood his intent without words, opening the door wide enough for him to slip inside before shutting it firmly behind him. Grandmother Lu, her face etched with skepticism, refrained from asking questions. He handed her the loaf of bread, a gift borne of struggle. She accepted it with reverence, mindful of the pain that often wracked her hands. Gesturing with a nod of her head, she beckoned him to join her at the table. With a well-worn knife, she deftly sliced the loaf into portions, its aged blade mirroring her weathered countenance. Taking two slices, she extended them to him. From some hidden recess, she produced a small orange, her gaze lingering upon it before passing it to him.

    "Peel this," she commanded.

    Sen handled the orange with great care, delicately removing its skin to reveal the precious flesh within. He returned it to her, and with equal precision, she divided the fruit into individual segments, offering him half. They savored the fruit slowly, savoring each bite. Despite his ambivalence toward notions of dignity in eating, Sen respected Grandmother Lu's insistence on maintaining a sense of decorum. He may not have shared her views entirely, but he cherished the bond they had forged.

    As they finished their modest repast, Sen settled himself on a small pad that always seemed to be available when he sought respite in her humble abode. He rarely sought refuge there, unless he had something to share, but on those bitter nights when he arrived empty-handed, she merely gestured toward the pad without uttering a word. While he had no blood family, he found solace in Grandmother Lu's presence. That small, precious comfort lulled him into a peaceful sleep, where dreams held no sway.

    From chatgpt
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  4. Offline
    Rnailo
    75
    man this is hard to read,

    First the text is too compact.
    Second the wording and sentences are too heavy.

    I had to use more brain power to read this than when I was preparing for my finals.
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    1. Offline
      Este Jovem Mestre
      84
      Serious? Are you so used to fast food that you've forgotten what it's like to think for yourself?
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      1. Offline
        Rnailo
        23
        Let's be real here just based on first paragraph it lacks any coherent structure and is all over the place. It is trying to do everything in a single paragraph. Set the tone. Describe scenery. Then tell us what MC is doing and also describe MCs looks. This is called information overload. It feels just the same as you sit in a speeding car and suddenly someone ask you to take over.

        Let's face it it's crap way to start a story.
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      2. Offline
        Juan0.o
        11
        If you don't like it you can use chatgpt to correct the chapter and even add extra content, keep in mind that you should know what orders to give to the AI, to make it much more satisfying to read.
        postscript: I already tried it and the result is better than the original butwhy
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        1. Offline
          k1llsh0t_87
          20
          This makes me wonder if I could run mtl through chat got to make it less brain rotting
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          1. Offline
            Mkviewer
            10
            Worth a shot, im tempted to try myself
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            1. Offline
              whereshouldigo
              10
              chapgpt is 50 good 50 bad
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