A Thousand Li: the First Stop: A Xanxia Cultivation Series Page 18

Twenty-three.

  Twenty-four.

  Twenty-five breaths later, Wu Ying relaxed his arms, allowing them to come back to his hips. He flipped over, allowing strained muscles to loosen as he landed on his feet. He crouched for a moment before forcing his tired body to straighten, air filling his lungs fully.

  Better. Wu Ying smiled grimly. Better today than last week. But still not good. It was strange to him how the exercises in the manual rotated, forcing him to focus on different muscles every couple of days. It made little sense to Wu Ying, but for now, he followed them religiously. He did not have the requisite background knowledge to change the physical cultivation style. Not yet at least.

  And in truth, over the last six months, Wu Ying had to admit he had seen the effects of the exercise manual. His strength had grown by leaps and bounds, even as his cultivation had stalled. That was not a bad thing, since Wu Ying used the time to reinforce his cultivation, ensuring the numerous meridians he had opened were properly cleansed. In time, he would break through to the next level. Until then, the increases in strength—and yes, physical bulk—were proving to be useful. In his sparring matches alone, he had noted the sudden increase in explosive power giving his sparring partners increasing trouble.

  As his breathing came under control, Wu Ying stretched, popping a few joints before he turned to the rings again. He reviewed his next exercise before hopping upward to grab the rings. No time to stop. Not yet.

  A half hour later, Wu Ying finally collapsed on his back, groaning as the muscles in his arms and shoulders trembled uncontrollably. Even lying down, he hurt. Today, he had added a pair of breaths to each of his exercises.

  Once his breathing was under control, Wu Ying sat cross-legged on the bare earth, eyelids drooping as he tapped into his dantian. Calling forth his chi, the cultivator guided the energy through his meridians, finding the sore muscles and the bones they sheathed. Not much damage this time, since he was mostly working muscles instead of compressed pressure or blows. On the other hand, yesterday’s sparring match had resulted in a series of almost microscopic cracks along his arms, ribs, and shins. Those cracks were where Wu Ying directed his chi, interlacing the cracks with motes of the power that sat within his body. The chi slowly reinforced the cracks and the bones around them, making them harder than ever.

  Microscopic damage, tiny increases in density. Like water striking stone, wearing away the stronger material, except in reverse. In time, his bones would grow stronger. In time.

  An exhalation as turbid air left his lungs. A breath in as lactic acid and other corruption was sweated from his pores. And a breath out as he drew in more chi into his body, sifting it through his dantian and meridians and making it his.

  Slowly.

  It was late afternoon when Wu Ying finally stood, his cultivation complete. If not for the need for sustenance and a bath, Wu Ying probably would have kept cultivating. As cultivators grew more experienced, stronger, their ability to focus, meditate, and cultivate grew in proportion. Minutes spent in meditation would grow to hours, then eventually days and weeks. By that point, sustenance pills would take the place of food. Placed under the tongue while cultivating, the chi-empowered pills fed the body, taking the place of regular meals and allowing the Core Cultivators to work undisturbed.

  But unlike them, Wu Ying needed sustenance. And the food laid out on a nearby table was perfect.

  Wu Ying deposited himself on a stone chair at the table, already tearing a drumstick off the chicken and smiling at Ah Yee. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks required, Master Long.” After a moment, Ah Lee added, “Should I go out and purchase more cookies and snacks for tomorrow?”

  Over the last few months, Wu Ying had learned to pick out the disapproval in Ah Yee’s voice. It was so faint, only someone who had spent as much time as Wu Ying had with her would ever notice it.

  “Tomorrow?” Wu Ying blinked then chuckled. Of course. Tomorrow was the last day of Liu Tsong’s classes. The senior cultivator was likely to come over. “Yes. Please.”

  The next day, Wu Ying was perched on a chair opposite Liu Tsong in his residence, shaking his head ruefully. “Did you have to end the lesson like that?”

  “Not my fault!” Liu Tsong said. “Elder Wei insisted this is the best way to have them pay for actual lessons.”

  “But…” Wu Ying sighed. The last lesson had not been so much a lesson as a tease, with Liu Tsong going over the vast sea of knowledge a pill refiner needed to assimilate before they could be considered competent. From the simplest things like the variety of herbs—of which they had managed to cover about a hundred—to the choosing and maintenance of pill cauldrons, the distribution and mixing methods of pills, and even chi impartation to pills were all briefly mentioned.

  “You want to know it all, right?” Liu Tsong grinned evilly.

  “Yes, yes, I do.”

  “That’s how we get our contribution points.”

  “Bah!” Wu Ying grumbled.

  Liu Tsong smiled, making Wu Ying chuckle too. She was right. As much time as he had spent gathering points, he’d poured them down the drain of training, learning new recipes and spending time working the pill cauldron. As often as he could, it was under expert supervision. Fairy Yang’s earlier warning about how expensive pill refining was resounded in Wu Ying’s mind.

  Even when he dropped his blacksmithing lessons, Wu Ying still found he had insufficient time. It was no wonder that progress in cultivation was measured in years and decades. Wu Ying almost regretted his time studying blacksmithing, but he reminded himself forcefully the no one, not even the gods themselves, knew how the threads of destiny would weave themselves.

  “I heard you achieved another breakthrough in your Northern Shen Kicking Style. I thought you were working on the Mountain Breaking Fist,” Liu Tsong said.

  “I was. I am,” Wu Ying said. “But martial styles aren’t a direct either/or, you know. The Mountain Breaking Fist has motions similar to my other styles. A few points of clarification in the style manual translated well with some unclear points in the Northern Shen. Once I applied it… well. You know.”

  “Are you still focused on your pill refining?”

  “Of course. But it’s slow.” Wu Ying shrugged. “Learning the herbs, the plants, and ingredients is simple, easy, compared to the actual pill refining. I don’t think I have any talent there.”

  “Rubbish. I’ve watched you. You aren’t a genius, but you are competent. You just need time.”

  Wu Ying sighed. “Blacksmithing was so much easier. Even when I made rubbish, it was usable rubbish.”

  “Then why continue with pill refining?” Liu Tsong bit into her cookie.

  “I’m not sure. It’s a challenge, I guess,” Wu Ying said, smiling wryly. “A synergy with my harvesting.”

  “And you intend to continue? Harvesting?”

  “For now. It’s not as if Elder Li is letting me take another assignment. And I’m good at it.”

  “Good.” Liu Tsong picked up another cookie. “So. Tell me about your latest attempt.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m your half-teacher?” Liu Tsong said. “And because I need a laugh.”

  Wu Ying made a face but agreed to her request. After all, as much as she might tease, Liu Tsong always provided Wu Ying the clarity he needed.

  Late that evening, when Liu Tsong had finally left, Wu Ying found himself back in the training yard, a letter from his father and the cultivation manual for the Long family style set before him. Once again, he let his eyes roam over the words his father had written.

  The Dragon’s Breath is the first and most important attack form of our style. The Dragon’s Breath is not a specific attack, but the projection of sword chi and intent by a wielder. At its core, the Dragon’s Breath wraps the jian’s blade with the user’s projected chi, extending its edge and length and forming a new edge from the sword intent of the user. It is said our founder was able to project a blade twenty feet long with
just his sword intent and his understanding of the dao of the jian.

  As I have written before, with your intermediate understanding of the style, your sword intent is insufficient to project your attack with any force. As such, if you intend to continue to pursue this form of study, you must be prepared to use significant amounts of chi. It is why the masters of our style have always reserved the use of the Dragon’s Breath until the Energy Storage stage at the very least.

  To answer your questions—and recall, I can only provide second-hand advice at this time—the projection of sword intent is a state of mind. From your letter, it is clear you are mixing the projection of chi with that of intent. To clarify the difference, begin with the finger exercise. Now…

  Wu Ying finished rereading the letter before turning to the style guide, making sure he recalled the details of the finger exercise. Not that he needed the refresher. As a child, he had spent countless hours pretending his paired fingers were a sword, waving them around and “dueling” his dad. The drill could be conducted with chopsticks attached to fingers, providing the wielder additional “length” and a sense of the lines of threat.

  However, in this case, the new drill was a projection drill. Holding up his paired fingers, Wu Ying stared at the raised pair before him and exhaled. Intent. Focus on the fingers, focus on the fact they were no longer fingers but the start of the blade. Sense the weight of the blade, its cutting edge, the deadly tip. Feel the deadly intent of a weapon meant for killing.

  Once Wu Ying had his “jian” firmly in his mind, he moved through the forms. First one, then another. Hours passed as Wu Ying flowed with his fingers, taking each motion in step and making it part of him, part of his instincts. When he came to the end of the third form, as he threw a rising cut, Wu Ying exhaled at the same time and released the chi he had built up.

  The dark night air rippled, a cutting sound issuing through the courtyard as air was forcefully parted. Sword intent and chi, compacted and mixed together to form a single motion to extend a cut far from his body. The sword energy formed by his fingers impacted the edge of the spirit barriers of the training ground without leaving a mark. On the other hand, Wu Ying collapsed as the sudden loss of chi drained him of nearly all his energy.

  A short while later, Wu Ying rolled over with a groan. “Better. Only lost two-thirds of my chi that time.”

  If he had conducted the attack with his sword, Wu Ying knew he would have, could have, done better. The need to form the “sword” in his mind, to create it by his intent was a powerful training tool, but it also used an inordinate amount of chi to make it real.

  Still, as Wu Ying struggled to his feet, he could not help but smile. This was progress. Very good progress. Having a long-range attack for his jian, a surprise attack he could use, gave him another card to play. A cultivator without secrets and aces was a dead cultivator.

  Chapter 16

  “Wu Ying?”

  “Yes, Senior Goh?” Wu Ying turned his head, seeing his friend and senior standing next to him. Wu Ying stood, brushing off his dirt-covered hands. Scattered by his feet were the glass jars he had stuffed with the weeds he had pulled. The weeds still twitched as they attempted to escape back into the chi-rich earth.

  “Ru Ping,” Ru Ping corrected, glaring at Wu Ying.

  “Sorry. All the new outer sect members have been reminding me about the formalities, especially with their bowing and scraping.” Wu Ying’s lip twitched as he attempted to supress a smile.

  “Har. Yes. They’re all enthusiastic and scared, aren’t they?” Ru Ping said. “Thankfully, Elder Li never picks her people from them. Though she does send me to the gardening sector later in the year to see if there are any decent prospects.”

  “Yes, Senior.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Ru Ping grumped. Seeing Wu Ying’s half-smile, he snorted and punched Wu Ying in the shoulder. “I came to speak with you about the upcoming expedition the Elders are organizing. You know of it?” Wu Ying shook his head and Ru Ping sighed. “You should pay closer attention to these matters. The expedition is for the rare variant of the kurinji flowers[23]. The normal kurinji flowers bloom once every twelve years, but the variant we require blooms once every half century. The hill the flowers are located on is north of sect territory, deep in the spirit beast territory.”

  “If it’s north…” Wu Ying turned automatically to stare in the aforementioned direction. Of course, being in the middle of the sect, there was nothing to see but more trees and buildings. Still, Wu Ying knew untamed wilderness lay that way, the kind of place one did not go to unless they were an Elder. Or in large groups. “That’s very dangerous.”

  Ru Ping elbowed Wu Ying in the side. “Not so much for us. We’re going to join Elder Li and be her harvesters. We get to stay in the center of the group and harvest what the Elder tells us.”

  “We?” Wu Ying frowned. “I didn’t agree to this.”

  “Why did you think I’ve been spending so much time with you?” Ru Ping said, putting his hands on his hips. “Did you think I personally train all of them?” Ru Ping jerked his chin toward the other gardeners, shaking his head. “No. You’re here for things like this.”

  “I’m happy to harvest on my missions, but this…” Wu Ying tried to find a way to carefully point out that the expedition was too dangerous. Way too dangerous. He was not even an Energy Harvester.

  “Are you saying no?” Ru Ping said, his voice growing cold. He shifted away from Wu Ying, meeting his junior’s gaze directly.

  “I have to think about it,” Wu Ying replied quietly, quailing at Ru Ping’s scornful gaze.

  “Do so at the compost piles,” Ru Ping said flatly.

  Wu Ying twitched but bowed to Ru Ping, and he sealed the jar of weeds before he headed for the compost piles. It had been months since he had been assigned there—not since the first month when he had learned everything he needed to know in this portion of the gardens. The message was clear to Wu Ying, as was the level of displeasure Ru Ping was displaying. And, obviously, Elder Li by default.

  Dirty and smelly, Wu Ying took a quick shower at a nearby training ground before making his way to the assignment hall later that day. The abrupt change in Ru Ping’s treatment of him made Wu Ying even more wary than ever about the expedition. If there was a place he could learn more, it would be at the assignment hall. Slipping into one of the many lines, Wu Ying let his gaze roam over his fellow cultivators.

  As always, the assignment hall buzzed with outer and inner sect members gossiping in lines, waiting for their turn. In one corner, chairs and standing tables allowed cultivators who had completed their business to socialize out of the way. In the opposite corner of the hall, a smaller number of desks and attendants dealt with the sect members who had completed their assignments.

  Rank had its privileges, and the line for inner sect members was significantly shorter than the never-ending line for outer sect members. In short order, Wu Ying found himself facing the bored-looking attendant. It certainly seemed the hall master hired based off the level of boredom an attendant showed. Otherwise, by the laws of random chance alone, at least one attendant had to feel something other than boredom.

  “Yes?” the attendant asked querulously.

  “Sorry. I wanted to know about the expedition,” Wu Ying said.

  “Which one?”

  “There’s more than one?”

  “Yes.”

  “And they are…?”

  “To the north, headed by Elder Mo and Elder Li. And to the east, headed by Elder Wan.” The attendant sighed.

  “What are they for?” This was the first he had heard of the expeditions.

  “Elder Wan is hunting a bai ze for its horns,” the attendant said. “He requires a dozen late Energy Storage cultivators, or those with equivalent combat abilities, for the expedition. It is expected to take a minimum of three weeks, but Elder Wan has vowed to not return until it is caught.”

  “And what is a bai ze?”

  The atte
ndant’s lips pursed, and he glared at Wu Ying for daring to ask another question. In the end though, he scrambled within his desk before pulling out a scroll and reading from it. “‘A bai ze is a cow-like spirit animal with six horns and nine eyes. Its horns are on its flanks and head, and the horns, eyes, and fur are considered highly valuable. Over and above the normal return for the meat.’”

  When he realized the attendant was done speaking, Wu Ying said, “Thank you. I’m not qualified for that one.”

  “Obviously.” The attendant sniffed, shaking his head. “Now. Elder Li’s and Elder Mo’s expedition is even more dangerous, though larger. In total, there will be four Elders on the expedition, including the two sponsors. They are launching a full field expedition and have requirements for multiple guards, camp attendants, and a pill refiner. I’m sure I can find you a space on the expedition.”

  “Pay?”

  “Very good. Daily, dependent on task, but a minimum of thirty contribution points and thirty coins per day,” the attendant replied. “Are you interested?”

  “Not yet. What is the expedition for?”

  The attendant shrugged at Wu Ying. “I do not know. They are seeking something in the unclaimed spirit lands. The expedition is expected to take a minimum of a month and no longer than two.”

  “Oh?” Wu Ying said, surprised. That they were not providing details of what they wanted concerned Wu Ying. Especially since Ru Ping had told him directly. “So short?”

  The attendant shrugged, obviously uninterested in speculating. Wu Ying pressed the man for more details but found most of his efforts rebuffed. Eventually, the increasingly irritated attendant sent Wu Ying away as the cultivator was unwilling to sign up immediately.

  Walking away, Wu Ying rubbed his chin. The good news was that Ru Ping had told the truth. A large number of guards were being hired, along with numerous Elders. In fact, the majority of those being hired were coming from the inner sect, with only a few spaces available for those in the outer sect. In addition, the minimum requested cultivation stage was Energy Storage 1, though the attendant had hinted that certain exceptions might be available for those with the required skills.