A Thousand Li: the First War: A Xianxia Cultivation Series

by Tao Wong

  With a wave, Liu Tsong continued their patrol while Wu Ying and his team rode down the foothills. At least this part was going well so far.

  ***

  “Unacceptable.”

  Wu Ying winced as the lieutenant general stated his opinion without hesitation. Their meeting had started out well—until Wu Ying had detailed his needs. Obviously, Wu Ying had volunteered their group to help the army, to join them in their siege of the city. But he had also asked that they be allowed to enter the city when the time came to retrieve the manual.

  “With respect, Lieutenant General, I—” Wu Ying began, only to be interrupted again.

  “This is a military operation. Even if you are cultivators, you must abide by our rules. We will not allow you to flounce around, doing what you please, and causing havoc. Nor do you get to the make additional requests from us,” Lieutenant General Hao said. As he spoke, the edges of his large, luxurious mustache quivered. He leaned forward, the top of the crest of his helmet that he wore even now in the command tent almost touching Wu Ying’s face. He glowered at the cultivator. Scattered documents sat upon his table, forgotten after Wu Ying’s interruption. “You can either agree to work for us or you can leave.”

  Wu Ying crossed his arms and glared at the lieutenant general only for the other to sneer at him. Wu Ying tried again. “At the least, I want an assurance that we will be allowed to look for the cultivation style when it is safe to do so.”

  “Impossible. You will do as I say or not take part at all.”

  Wu Ying sighed. “Then I think there is nothing more to say.” He turned around slowly, moving toward the exit.

  “Where are you going?” Lieutenant General Hao snapped.

  “Away. There is nothing here for us.”

  “You can’t do that. This is a military encampment. You are under military law!” Enraged that his bluff had been called, the lieutenant general raised his voice and called, “Guards!”

  The guards who stood outside walked in, their spears leveled at Wu Ying. Through the opened flap, Wu Ying caught a glimpse of the other guards that had been watching his friends level their weapons as well.

  “We are cultivators from the Verdant Green Waters Sect. We are not military personnel. We have not joined, nor do we intend to join your army if our demands are not met. You have no authority over us,” Wu Ying said.

  He ignored the guards and the spear points that glinted so close to his throat, doing his best to keep his voice calm and borrowing some of the arrogance that he had seen his noble friends carry unconsciously. In truth, they were both correct on some level. This was a military encampment, and by coming here, they were subject to military law. But they were also not in the State of Shen anymore, and as cultivators in another country, the reach of the laws was debatable. In addition, Wu Ying was from a respected ally. How far the lieutenant general was willing to push matters would depend on his arrogance and temper.

  “We will see how long you are willing to be stubborn after spending time in our prison,” sneered the lieutenant general. At his gesture, the guards grabbed Wu Ying’s arms and escorted the cultivator out.

  The guards outside noticed what was happening and gestured at the other members of the group to raise their hands too. Tou Hei raised an eyebrow at Wu Ying, who quickly shook his head. Already, Bao Cong and Li Yao had their arms in the air.

  “What did you do, Wu Ying!” Yin Xue exclaimed.

  “I refuse to make us a part of the army,” Wu Ying explained.

  One of his captors shifted his hand as if he wanted to strike Wu Ying then thought better of it. Even if Wu Ying was a prisoner, he was also a cultivator.

  “I knew one of us should have come with you to speak with him,” Yin Xue complained as the group was led away, spears leveled at their backs.

  Not that the group was worried about the small number of guards watching over them. It was the larger number of soldiers all about that might be an issue. And of course, the repercussions when they got home.

  Wu Ying had no reply to that accusation, because a part of him wondered as well if his friends could have done a better job at negotiating. After all, he was not a noble. He was just a peasant who cultivated. On the other hand, Lieutenant General Hao had seemed extremely set in getting his way.

  Before Yin Xue could continue complaining, Tou Hei spoke up. “Amitoufo[10].”

  Yin Xue gritted his teeth but still fell silent. The rest of the group also held off on commenting, knowing there was little they could do now. They could only hope that Liu Tsong and whoever was leading the Sect members in the army could smooth things out.

  ***

  To Wu Ying’s surprise, they were not thrown into an actual prison but instead restricted to the tents they had been given. They were separated, left to stew in their thoughts. With nothing better to do, Wu Ying found himself seated cross-legged, meditating and working on his cultivation that evening. He did his best to remove the negative thoughts and the worries of the day, intent on progressing his cultivation exercise. Unfortunately, his progress in drawing in unaspected chi and working the chi circulation exercise had slowed ever since he had filled his dantian. It was unfortunate, but he would rather be slow in his progress than dead because he had insufficient chi during a battle.

  Late in the evening, the food delivered for supper grown cold before him, another familiar presence intruded upon Wu Ying’s awareness. He cracked an eye open, surprised to see the Elder in his tent—especially considering Wu Ying did not notice his presence until he had moved the tent flap aside. In an encampment like this, the Elder should have lit up his surroundings like a bonfire to Wu Ying’s senses.

  Wu Ying scrambled to his feet, bowing low. “Elder Po! I did not know that you are part of this army.”

  “The Sect felt I should accompany this army as I have the most experience in the State of Wei. But it is not this matter that we are speaking about. What have you done?” The bare-fisted metal-aspected Elder glared at Wu Ying.

  They had traveled together on the expedition—the one which had seen the Elder progress in his cultivation after his long years of being bottlenecked—and as such, they had some familiarity with one another. However, none of that familiarity could be seen on Elder Po’s face at this time.

  “I have a small assignment that coincides with yours…” Wu Ying quickly explained to Elder Po what had transpired.

  Elder Po shook his head after Wu Ying had done speaking. “Bad luck. Lieutenant General Hao is extremely strict about the rule of law. Military law. He is particularly angry that the army must rely on us. Like many of his compatriots, he feels that the army should have the right to enforce recruitment first, before the Sects.”

  “Then… Elder?” Wu Ying let a little bit of hope into his voice.

  “I will do what I can. But you’ll have to accept military law when you are here,” Elder Po warned Wu Ying.

  “Of course.”

  Warning given, Elder Po swept out of the room, leaving Wu Ying to his cold dinner and his cultivation.

  ***

  Even after Elder Po’s assurances, nothing happened for days. Wu Ying was left confined to his tent, only able to cultivate. His days were only broken by the arrival of meals, for he did not receive additional visitors, forcing the cultivator to sit and stew by himself. All around, he heard the sounds of the army going on with its day, the talk of idling soldiers, the neigh of horses as they were led past, and the constant strikes of stones against the city wall as the trebuchets fired. If not for the years of training at cultivation; from school to Sect, at being forced to do nothing but sit still and focus within, Wu Ying would have gone insane.

  Instead, he threw himself at the task of cultivating. At this point, he was not harnessing the chi from the world except as a secondary by-product for constantly cleansing his body and meridians, sending the cleaned chi to brush against the blockages in his Energy Storage meridians like a water stream against rock before filtering out the new impurities
and discarding them. His primary purpose now was meditating—focusing upon the experiences he had gained, his memories.

  He saw, once again, Elder Dun as he struck. As the Elder curled himself and launched his attack at Wu Ying, the way the blade targeted his heart, the flow of power through his body and within the blade itself. Wu Ying mined that memory for all the knowledge it could gift, turning it around in his mind’s eye again and again, taking in flashes of reflection on the water. In time, he no longer focused on the flow of chi or the Elder’s body, but the look in Elder Dun’s eyes. That coldness, that implacability. That focus.

  Another moment, another memory. A bandit, one that Li Yao and he had killed last year. Wu Ying’s blade plunging through the man’s neck. The widening in the pupils, that moment of clarity and release. When the bandit had realized he was dead. When all that struggle was done. The giving up on life.

  The taotei jumping at Wu Ying, seen past the guard of his sword. That last sliver of time before it would land on his weapon. Resolved to make the taotei pay, to injure it at the cost of his life, Wu Ying would not, could not, stop fighting. And rage—rage reflected in the taotei’s never-ending hunger. Anger at the pain its own existence created.

  Another memory, floating alongside the others. A newer one. The rest stop keeper from before, angry and sad, his hard work stolen by the army. Left with nothing but the little he had managed to hide, the few coins and goods he had managed to keep for himself. All that he had managed to secret away to rebuild his life. Refusing to leave, give up, or despair. Serving subpar food and the same within, knowing it for what it was. But refusing to leave.

  Stubbornness. Resolution. Will.

  Elder, bandit, monster, and peasant.

  Reflections of one another. Neither good nor bad—but a facet. Imposing one’s will upon the heavens, demanding it change. Sometimes failing, sometimes succeeding. But trying. Always trying.

  It was not enlightenment. There was no greater Dao involved in this. But a knot within Wu Ying’s heart, one that had grown when he failed to breakthrough, eased.

  Failure happened. Destruction happened. But starting over, going on. That too was part of the Tao. That too was human.

  ***

  The curtain of his tent was drawn aside, leaving Wu Ying to blink into the early morning sunlight. Wu Ying stood, brushing down his robes as he stared at Chao Kun.

  “It’s time.”

  The serious and grim expression on Chao Kun’s face made Wu Ying decide not to ask any further questions. At least, not just yet. When Wu Ying took a step forward, Chao Kun shook his head.

  “Change first.” He tossed Wu Ying a set of clothing and armor similar to that worn by the regular members of the army. “And make sure you have all your equipment. We will be fighting.”

  Wu Ying nodded. He took the armor and clothing and retreated behind a privacy screen to change. In short order, he walked out, clad in black-and-grey lamellated armor like all the other soldiers—if not for the jian by his side. As for his own clothing and armor, he had placed it in his storage ring.

  “Ah, I forgot. You are still using your jian.”

  Wu Ying touched the weapon at his side, raising an eyebrow. “I did not bring another weapon.” Well, he had a couple of other swords in his storage ring, but they were of the same type.

  “You know how to use a dao, yes?”

  “Obviously,” Wu Ying replied.

  Even if he did not specialize in using a dao, the Long family-style had forms and passages devoted to the weapon. He had also practiced with the weapon in his village. It just was not his preferred weapon. After all, the Long family weapon style focused on the jian, but a sword was a sword and things like distance, timing, muscular chain activation were the same.

  “Then we shall get you one.”

  Chao Kun gestured, and together, the pair exited the tent. They walked along the pathway between tents, the army personnel dodging around Chao Kun and Wu Ying as they hurried to their stations. Finally, they crested the slope of a hill and spotted where the hubbub that had grown around them was focused. Sprawled below them in formed ranks was the majority of the army. In the morning sun, spearheads pointed toward the sky glittered, bathing the waiting army in shifting beams of sunlight as they faced the city.

  Arrayed before the walls, between the army and the city, were the siege weapons, many of them still leaking sap from being cut down and built. They had stopped firing last night, allowing more rocks to be placed near them for this morning’s assault. Assault covers—mostly simple rolling, covered carts—were the majority of the siege weapons, though Wu Ying spotted a few more elaborate assault covers. Behind the initial assault covers was the mixed group of archers and infantry who would hide beneath the covers as they rolled close to the walls. Directly behind the initial wave of siege weaponry were the sky carts, mobile siege ladders with a hinged, folding ladder that would be deployed when they were in place.

  As for the city itself, its wall were beaten, fractured in the front. Targeted attacks had knocked down or damaged the guard towers, but the walls still stood. None of them had been destroyed or shattered. No gaping holes faced the waiting army. For all intents and purposes, in spite of the damage done to the walls, they were intact.

  “Are we starting now?” asked Wu Ying.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 14

  Chao Kun let Wu Ying marvel at the sight for a long minute before he gestured for him to hurry along. Together, the pair headed for the army’s blacksmith, where weapons were being fixed and sharpened. Chao Kun spoke rapidly to one of the guards before he made his way to one of the racks and searched through the repaired daos before finding one to his satisfaction. He tossed it to Wu Ying, who caught it and the scabbard that followed, testing the weapon in his hand.

  It was serviceable. The weight was slightly off, a bit farther toward the pommel than Wu Ying would have preferred. It made the sabre’s weight a little more unwieldly, made cutting a little harder. The metal itself was of low quality, adequate but likely to chip after vigorous use. And it had no sense of style at all, looking similar to the hundreds of daos that lay around the encampment. Even if most soldiers used the spear as their primary weapon, the dao was the preferred secondary weapon since its single cutting edge and heavier blade design required less training and could be used more effectively in a shield wall. The jian, once popular as the main side-weapon of the army, had decreased in popularity as closed ranks and more formal shield walls had been adopted.

  Those cultivators and martial artists like his family who stayed loyal to the jian were growing rarer each year. Even if the lighter weapon had been the more popular weapon to begin with, the dao’s adoption by the army had seen the jian’s slow decrease in popularity—at least among soldiers and the general populace. On the other hand, while martial styles for the dao were increasing in number, for the highest tier sword arts, it was said that one needed to study the jian. But…

  “Good enough?” Chao Kun asked.

  “Yes. In the end, a sword is a sword,” Wu Ying said, belting the scabbard to his body as he replaced his own weapon. It was both an ultimate truth and lie, depending on the circumstances. As any true sword stylist would tell you. For what came next, this would do. “What is my role?”

  “You’ll be part of the first wave,” Chao Kun said. He puckered his face as he had eaten something sour before leading Wu Ying away from the blacksmith’s to where the army waited, talking all the while. “You, your friends, and a small number of other cultivators—mercenaries and other Sect members mostly—will be held back in reserve but near the front of the line. When our army reaches the walls with their ladders, you will be sent to scale the wall.”

  Wu Ying’s eyes widened. Assaulting the walled city, even if it had been softened up with the fire from the numerous trebuchets, was no easy feat. And on their first assault, it was unlikely the army would succeed.

  “There aren’t any holes yet,” Wu Ying said as he
tried to recall how many sky cloud ladders he had seen. Not enough. Not without more holes in the walls to split the army’s attention.

  “The general believes that using cultivators in the initial breech might surprise the defenders,” Chao Kun said.

  His tone was entirely neutral, but Wu Ying could not help but glance at his friend. Finding his friend’s face entirely still, Wu Ying sighed. In the end, whatever they thought, they were still under military law. They had orders to follow. And that was it.

  “Where will you be?” Wu Ying asked.

  “We will be watching for retaliation by other cultivators.” Chao Kun gestured down the line to the left. “My team will be deployed with Elder Po.” Chao Kun paused then added, “Do not expect us to take action unless a Core cultivator or worse shows up. Pray that we don’t have to reinforce you.”

  Wu Ying nodded, trying to relax. At least the Core cultivators would be dealt with. If the city used them. Now, all he had to do was survive the arrows, spears, and swords of their opponents as they assaulted the wall.

  ***

  “About time you got here,” Li Yao said to Wu Ying, punctuating her greeting with a hug.

  They had regrouped under the awning of an assault wagon, hidden from the prying eyes of their enemy. Chao Kun had dropped Wu Ying off with his team before marching off to inspect a few other wagons.

  “I came as soon as Chao Kun got me.” Wu Ying eyed the group, noting how they were all dressed like him in the standard army uniform. It was probably so they weren’t targeted by archers. Yet as he let his gaze rake over the group of familiar and unfamiliar faces, he stopped on one unexpected addition. “Senior Liu?”

  “Wu Ying.” Liu Tsong nodded to Wu Ying.

  “What are you doing here?” Wu Ying said. From what he gathered from Chao Kun—more between the lines than directly—this was a punishment. Surely his Senior had not done anything that deserved her presence here.