Cultivation in the Pirate's World

The small harbor of Shimotsuki Village bustled with morning activity as their ship docked. Fishermen hauled in their morning catch while children practiced sword swings with wooden sticks, occasionally hitting each other instead of their intended targets.

"Careful with those swords!" a robust woman called out, sweeping the front of her tea shop. "You'll end up in my shop with bumps again!"

"Sorry, Mika-san!" the children chorused, not looking sorry at all.

"Lively place," Xiao Yan commented, watching as Xiaojin circled overhead, drawing amazed gasps from the children.

"Is that a phoenix?" one boy shouted, nearly dropping his wooden sword.

"Don't be stupid, Kenji!" his friend replied. "Phoenix don't exist- WOAH!" His declaration was cut short as Xiaojin decided to prove its existence with a small display of golden flames.

"Now that's settled," Shanks grinned, "how about some tea before we head up to the forge?"

Mika's tea shop, it turned out, was the heart of village gossip. The owner herself was a fountain of information, her hands moving as fast as her tongue as she served tea.

"Kozaburo-san's been in a mood lately," she informed them, setting down cups with practiced efficiency. "Something about the metal not 'speaking' to him. Though if you ask me, it's because young Taro keeps pestering him about apprenticeship."

"Taro?" Benn inquired, accepting his cup.

"Old Fisherman Jun's boy. Sixteen summers and convinced he'll be the next great swordsmith. Spends more time swinging hammers than helping his father with nets."

As if summoned by his name, a lanky teenager burst into the shop, his clothes covered in soot. "Mika-san! Is it true? There's a ship with a-" he stopped short, seeing the visitors. "You have a PHOENIX!"

Xiaojin, perched regally by the window, managed to look both proud and slightly bored at the attention.

"And a turtle that's... eating your door frame," Xiao Yan added calmly.

"Xiao Gui," he called out as Mika's eyes widened at the sight of her slowly disappearing doorway. "We've discussed sampling local architecture."

The turtle blinked innocently, a piece of wood still hanging from its mouth.

"I'll compensate for the damage," Xiao Yan assured Mika, who was now looking more amused than concerned.

"Keep your coins," she laughed. "Best entertainment I've had since Kenji's father got stuck in a barrel during the autumn festival. Though speaking of entertainment..." she turned to Shanks. "Will you be visiting the dojo this time? Master Koushirou still talks about your last sparring match."

"SHAHAHAHAHA! Maybe later. First, we need to see a certain grumpy swordsmith."

"Ha! Good luck with that. Kozaburo-san chased off three would-be customers yesterday. Said their 'spirits weren't worthy of his steel' or some such nonsense."

Taro's eyes lit up. "Are you going to the forge? Can I-"

"No," came a chorus from apparently every adult in the shop.

The boy deflated slightly but then perked up again. "At least let me show you the path! I know all the shortcuts!"

"You mean the shortcuts you use to spy on Kozaburo-san's work?" Mika raised an eyebrow.

"I observe with respectful dedication!" Taro protested.

"You fall out of trees with respectful dedication," she corrected dryly.

As they left the tea shop (after Xiao Yan convinced Xiao Gui to release its grip on the remaining door frame), Taro bounced ahead of them, pointing out village landmarks with enthusiastic commentary.

"And that's where Old Man Seki practices his forms every morning, except when his back hurts, which is most mornings now, and over there..."

Xiao Yan listened with quiet amusement, noting how even the boy's endless chatter carried undertones of deep respect for his village's traditions. Between Taro's commentary and the various activities they passed – from sword practice to daily chores – the village painted a picture of life centered around but not consumed by its martial heritage.

The path to the forge wound uphill, offering views of the village below and the sea beyond. Near the top, they found a man sitting cross-legged before an unfinished blade, his eyes closed in meditation.

"Kozaburo-san!" Taro called out excitedly, then immediately clapped his hands over his mouth.

The old swordsmith opened one eye. "Ah," he said, looking at their group. "The noisy boy and... interesting visitors." His gaze lingered on Xiaojin, then shifted to Xiao Yan. "Very interesting indeed."