Obviously, I couldn't just head straight to the crate. The smell overwhelmed me every time I tried to get close. Instead, I had my disciple pick up a single item at a time and bring it to me for inspection. The first thing he picked up was a wriggling tree root. Even from a distance, I could smell a distinct flowery scent wafting from it. He brought it over to me, unperturbed. He didn't mind the fact that the root was wriggling even while it was cut off from its tree. Or the fact that it was wriggling at all.

But I couldn't afford to look weak in the face of my unflinching disciple. I was his master, after all, wasn't I? If he could hold it, so could I!

So when he held it out to me expectantly, I forced myself to take it. I shuddered as my palm made contact with its rough, slimy surface. The root reminded me of an octopus tentacle, minus the suction cup thingies. It wriggled fiercely as it transferred hands. The thing got so violent, the tip curled up and scratched the back of my hand!

At that point, I'd grown too disturbed by the slimy texture and vigorous movement. I shoved the root back into the disciple's arms and wiped my hands on my pants.

"Okay," I said. "That's...a thing."

"It is a wriggling root," my disciple agreed.

"Wasn't there some sort of...instruction manual or something in there?"

"This one did see a sealed scroll in the crate."

I scrunched my nose at him. "So why didn't you give that to me first?"

To his credit, my disciple put on a somewhat sheepish, if still neutral expression. His tone sounded slightly apologetic as he spoke in his flat, monotone voice. "This one thought the master knew what he was doing."

I refrained from snapping at him because, well, that's what good disciples do. They have faith in their master's power. But right now, I didn't need a good disciple. I needed a questioning servant, one who would prompt me with inquiries and hopefully explain things for me in an attempt to figure out my master plan. I'd work on that with him, in time. For now, though, I just told him to give me the scroll.

He obeyed, retrieving it from the crate. Dutifully, he bowed as he handed it over.

"Thank you, disciple," I murmured.

A weird smell came from the scroll. My nose could detect a strong scent, but not a natural one. It smelled like steel but more...metaphysical than just plain metal qi. I held it closer to my nose and inhaled sharply. My nostrils set to work uncovering the scroll's secrets.

Tough. Unbreakable. Locked.

Frowning, I lowered the scroll and said, "How is lock a smell?"

My disciple crossed his arms. His face set into an expression of deep thought. Finally, he shook his head. "This one does not understand, master."

"Whatever," I said dismissively. "But I don't think we'll be able to open this without a key."

He looked at me questioningly. "Yes," he enunciated slowly, "this one believes that qi will open the scroll."

I blinked. "Key, not qi."

The man stared at me, his intelligent yet dull eyes searching my face for answers. After a moment, he murmured, "This one does not understand the master's musings."

I huffed and opened my mouth to rebuke him, but then it clicked. Qi! Qi is the key! That's what'll open the lock! Nodding to myself, I reaffirmed my hidden genius. The answer was so obvious.

However, that led to another problem: how could I open it? As far as I know, I couldn't access qi. The most I'd been able to do with it was sniff out what kind it was. It was a weird superpower, but not necessarily helpful in this situation. So I turned to the only one capable of doing so.

"Here," I said, handing my disciple the scroll. He took it from me obediently, but his face twitched in confusion. "Use your qi to open it."

"Can the master not do it himself?" he asked, rather bluntly.

I flushed. Had he caught on so quickly? I remember the fairy talking about how she couldn't sense any qi coming off of me...No, no, this situation could be salvaged. I just had to play up the 'master testing his disciple' act.

Sticking my nose up in the air haughtily, I scoffed. "Of course I can! Obviously, I'm simply testing you to see what you can do so far."

My disciple bowed deeply at the waist. "This one apologizes for doubting the master's cultivation abilities."

"It's no trouble," I dismissed. "Now, the scroll?"

He straightened up and looked down at the scroll. Closing his eyes, he scrunched up his forehead. Presumably, he was concentrating on gathering his qi. I smelled a slight disturbance of qi coming from my disciple. Following my nose, I sensed as he gathered a bit of qi from the area by the stone blossom patch and brought it into himself. There, tracking what happened to the qi got a bit muddied, but when he pushed it back out, it smelled distinctly like a patch of soil ridden with fungus and decay. Like something was rotting within it. I recoiled, withdrawing my senses as much as I could.

The lack of the surrounding qi assaulting my nose surprised me at first. I'd gotten rid of my ability to smell them unconsciously! However, just as I'd noticed it, whatever had been holding my senses back fell apart. The rotting dirt smell came back, unfortunately, as did the rest. The resulting overload of so many smells made me woozy. Struck by nausea, I shook my head and forced myself to focus.

Something was happening with my disciple's qi. Despite its horrid smell, I paid close attention to how it interacted with the qi that sealed the scroll. My disciple clumsily threw his qi at the lock. It rebounded off of the seal, barely any of it getting into the strange, twisted form the lock qi took. Part of the earth qi escaped out of his weak grasp on it. He fumbled for the escapees, but he lost control of the rest while he reached for them.

I tutted at him. Rookie mistake! "Focus on the lock," I told my disciple. "Don't worry if you lose a little qi; just focus on attacking the lock. And try not to just throw it at the seal? Lockpicking requires a bit of finesse, you know. Even if it is just incorporeal energy doing the picking."

"Understood, master," he said with a grunt, his brow furrowing as he concentrated harder. "I will try to have some...finesse."

His next attempt was more disastrous than the first. He tried to make his qi move in a twisted, distorted pattern that sort-of matched the seal. However, the shape failed to hold up against the seal, most of it coming undone before it even reached the lock. The remains that made it faded harmlessly against the seal. I witnessed him try the same move three more times, each resulting in similar failures.

Okay. So, maybe finesse isn't his strong suit.

"Disciple," I called, interrupting him before he could try again. "It's time to take a new approach. You're not a delicate lockpick, but a harsh hammer. Just gather as much of your qi as you can and brute force it."

My disciple nodded wordlessly, sweat dripping down his forehead. He blinked the droplets out of his eyes before steadying himself. Was doing this making his body go through physical exertion? I'd assumed the process was mystical, but given the way he was softly panting, maybe this was more labor-intensive than I thought. I hoped he wouldn't pass out from exhaustion before he unlocked the seal.

I smelled more disturbances within the air. The qi gathering process was slow-going, however, and it took even longer for him to convert the pure world qi around him into his odorous energy. Fed up with standing around watching, I took off my hoodie and placed it down on the ground. I sat down, grateful for the chance to rest and stretch my legs.

Standing for long periods of time was not recommended.

When my disciple had finally finished, I watched him take a deep breath, holding his qi tightly within him. With a heavy exhale, he sent the mass in full force against the lock. The foul-smelling qi pelted the seal, peppering the metaphysical lock with small holes and tears within it. Surprisingly, the seal held up against the attack. In fact, it even fought back against the bombardment. I smelled metal qi picking off straggling bits of earth qi, snapping up the weaker energy when it could. By the end of the assault, none of my disciple's earth qi remained but a good amount of the seal still held firm.

My disciple sagged his shoulders, but I tried to cheer him. "Don't worry," I said. "The lock is nearly there. A few more swings of your hammer and it'll fall apart, as easy as that."

"Yes, master!" he said, drawing himself up. He still looked tired, but I bet he could manage two or three more hits before he couldn't take anymore. I'd let him rest once he broke it.

I'm such a good master, aren't I?