The morning’s conversation lingered in the air like woodsmoke—present, but fading into the rhythm of the day. Kai had explained their plan: they would remain camped here for several days, waiting for one of their injured companions to recover enough to travel. Gin had merely shrugged and stretched out on the sun-warmed grass, content to stay as long as the place was safe.

  And safe it was. The spirit beasts, though wild in appearance, moved with an almost deliberate harmony around them. The smaller ones—fox-like creatures with fur that shimmered like molten copper and a trio of mischievous raccoon-dogs—darted around Bu’s feet as he trained, their playful yips punctuating the steady rhythm of his breathing. The larger beasts, a pack of wolf-sized predators with antlered brows and obsidian claws, had slipped away earlier to hunt, their absence leaving the camp quieter but no less alive with energy.

  Lu Bu’s voice cut through the afternoon haze, each number counted between sharp exhales.

  "Fifty-one. Fifty-two. Fifty-three."

  The boy stood in a horse stance so deep and steady it looked carved from stone, his palms thrusting forward in perfect synchronization with his qi flow. Sweat glistened on his brow, but his dark eyes burned with unwavering focus. Every movement was precise, controlled—as if he had been practicing this technique for years, not hours.

  Gin watched from his sprawled position, one arm pillowed behind his head, the other lazily scratching the belly of a spirit beast that had decided his lap was the best place to nap.

  "You must’ve been training the boy for a while," Gin remarked, squinting against the sunlight. "Kid’s got perfect form."

  Kai didn’t look up from the leather he was working, his fingers deftly stitching another waterproof tarp. "Yeah," he grunted, the single syllable carefully neutral.

  The truth was far more unsettling.

  Kai had shown Bu the Iron Root Stance just yesterday—a foundational exercise meant to temper the body and align qi channels. Most disciples took weeks to grasp the basics. Months to refine it.

  Lu Bu had mastered it in a day.

  Not just mimicked it. Mastered it. Every shift of weight, every controlled release of breath, every subtle channeling of qi—flawless. As if the technique had been waiting for him his entire life.

  At this rate, the boy would surpass Kai’s own proficiency within a few years. Maybe less.

  One of the spirit beasts—a dog-like creature with silver-tipped ears—padded over to Lu Bu, tilting its head as it observed his movements. Then, to Kai’s astonishment, the creature mimicked him.

  It planted its paws wide, lowered its haunches, and pushed the air with its tiny forelimbs.

  Gin burst out laughing. "Well, shit. Even the animals are learning from him now."

  Lu Bu, unfazed, grinned and adjusted his stance slightly—just enough to make it easier for the little critter to follow along.

  Kai exhaled through his nose. Of course. Even the spirit beasts recognized something extraordinary in the boy.

  Kai kept his expression carefully blank as he worked. Gin didn’t need to know the extent of Lu Bu’s talent. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  The cultivation world had a way of exploiting miracles.

  And Lu Bu?

  He was more than a miracle.

  Kai’s fingers tightened around his stitching needle.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  "Ninety-eight... ninety-nine... one hundred!"

  Lu Bu's voice rang out triumphantly as he completed the final repetition of his Iron Root Stance. Sweat dripped from his chin onto the packed earth below, his small chest heaving with exertion. Wiping his brow with the back of his hand, he plopped down unceremoniously, sending a cloud of dust swirling around him. The spirit beasts nearby perked their ears at the sudden movement, one particularly bold fox-creature venturing close enough to sniff at the boy's damp sleeves.

  After a few moments of catching his breath, Bu sprang back up with energy that defied his earlier fatigue and bounded over to Kai.

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

  "Uncle Kai! I did the Iron Root Stance one hundred times, just like you said!" His grin was wide enough to rival the midday sun, eyes shining with pride as he awaited praise.

  Kai didn't look up from the half-finished leather tarp in his hands. "Good. Do it a hundred more times."

  Lu Bu's face fell so dramatically that Gin, watching from his lounging position, couldn't help but chuckle into his gourd.

  "Do I really have to?" the boy groaned, shoulders slumping like a wilted flower.

  "Yes," Kai said firmly, finally glancing up. "That's what happens when you rush through the forms instead of focusing on each movement. These exercises aren't just about repetition - they're about understanding. Your body needs to learn the flow of qi, not just memorize the motions."

  As Lu Bu dragged his feet back to the training area, kicking at pebbles in protest, he suddenly turned with a hopeful expression. "Uncle Kai, can I ask you something?"

  "Of course."

  "How long before I can learn to command spirit beasts like you do?"

  The stitching needle in Kai's hand froze mid-stitch. "Excuse me?"

  Gin, who had been lazily observing the exchange while nursing his drink, suddenly sat up with interest. "Actually, I'm curious too," he interjected, swirling the contents of his gourd. "In all my years, I've heard of every strange cultivation technique under heaven - blood path cultivators, dreamwalkers, even those madmen who forge their bones with celestial steel. But never one that lets someone command beasts like they're old drinking buddies."

  Kai ignored Gin's commentary, his full attention on Lu Bu. The boy's question had struck a nerve deeper than he cared to admit.

  "Lu Bu," he said carefully, setting aside his leatherwork, "I explained before that I'm only teaching you the basics. I literally can't take you further than that, as I’m not that advanced in my own cultivation. And there is no technique behind the spirit beasts."

  "Really?" Lu Bu's face fell, his disappointment palpable enough to make several nearby spirit beasts whine in sympathy.

  "Yes." Kai's voice was firm, but not unkind. "What you see isn't some secret art. These creatures choose to stay with me, same as they choose to play with you during your breaks. You can't force that kind of bond - it either exists or it doesn't."

  Gin's skeptical expression deepened as he swirled the contents of his gourd. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the campsite, highlighting the way several spirit beasts had begun gathering curiously around their conversation. A fox-like creature with silver-tipped ears perched on a nearby rock, its head cocked as if following every word.

  "Are you absolutely certain it's not some sort of mind control technique?" Gin pressed, his voice laced with curiosity.

  Kai's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles whitening. The largest of the spirit beasts nearby- Igni - let out a low growl in response to Gin’s question.

  "No!" Kai's voice came out sharper than intended, causing several smaller creatures to flinch. He immediately softened his tone, reaching out to stroke the fox-creature's head in apology. "Never. I would never do that to them. They're..." He struggled for words, his usual gruffness giving way to something more vulnerable. "They're my family. My kin."

  Gin blinked. "But... they're beasts?" He gestured vaguely at the assortment of creatures surrounding them.

  Kai's jaw set in a stubborn line. "So? They're my kin and they're beasts. They're..." He paused, then forged ahead with sudden conviction, "Beastkin."

  The newly coined word hung in the air between them. Even the spirit beasts seemed to perk up at the term, several exchanging what could only be described as approving glances.

  Gin's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. "Beastkin?" he repeated slowly. "Is that like some secret cultivation technique? Some lost art from an ancient sect?"

  "No." Kai ran a frustrated hand through his hair, disturbing the small bird-like creature that had taken up residence there. It chirped indignantly before resettling. "There's... there's no technique. No hidden method. They just follow my commands because they want to. Because I ask nicely. Because we understand each other."

  As if to demonstrate, Kai held out his hand without looking. Igni immediately padded forward and nudged his massive head against his palm. The display was so natural, so effortless, that Gin found himself momentarily speechless.

  "So let's leave it at that," Kai finished firmly, his tone brooking no further argument. He turned back to his leatherwork, but not before Gin caught the subtle way his fingers trembled - not with anger, but with something deeper. Something like fear of being misunderstood.

  Zi, the illusion cat, sensing the tension, suddenly leapt into Gin's lap, startling him into nearly dropping his gourd. It peered up at him with disturbingly intelligent eyes before curling into a contented ball, as if declaring the matter settled.

  Gin looked down at the unexpected visitor, then at Kai's rigid back, and finally at Lu Bu - who was watching the exchange with rapt attention, his earlier training forgotten. With a resigned sigh, Gin raised his gourd in surrender.

  "Beastkin it is, then."

  The camp settled into an uneasy quiet, broken only by the content purring of the cat in Gin's lap and the distant sound of Lu Bu returning - with noticeably more enthusiasm - to his interrupted training.

  Beastkin.

  The word settled in Kai’s mind like a stone sinking into still water, sending ripples through his thoughts. He hadn’t planned to coin it—it had simply tumbled out in his frustration, a raw and honest response to Gin’s skepticism. But now that it hung in the air, it felt right.

  A quiet rustling drew his attention. The spirit beasts—no, the Beastkin—were reacting. The flame striped tiger Igni intelligent eyes locking onto Kai’s with something like recognition. The antlered wolf let out a low, approving chuff, while the bird nesting in Kai’s hair gave a soft, melodic trill, as if affirming the name. Even the usually aloof raccoon-dogs paused their wrestling to tilt their heads in unison, considering.

  Kai exhaled slowly, something warm and unnameable unfurling in his chest.

  This was their truth.

  Not master and servants. Not cultivator and tools.

  Family.

  (Author Note: “Beastkin” and “Spirit beast” will now be used interchangeably by Kai now.)