“Just don’t sell your Ki,” Mom whispered, turning pale with every breath. “Anything at all—just don’t sell…”
I remembered her words and recalled them every day, but after her death I held on for only a short time—just six months. What was I supposed to do? Who needs a skinny teenage amateur with a worthless talent?
All I had left was to sell my energy, my Ki. The poor usually sell Ki only as a side job or when there’s a one-time need for money. I was only trying to put off hungry death. If I just stretch things out a little longer, then after selling Ki I still won’t be able to survive, because I’ll be too weakened…"