by Tao Wong
“I’m not afraid of a commoner like you. You only got the Sense of your sword recently. Even with your vaunted heritage,” Yin Xue said with a sneer as he tapped his arm, sealing off some of the blood vessels with chi and acupressure points.
Wu Ying blinked, surprised at Yin Xue’s unexpected knowledge, but then double-checked the distance between the two of them. Just in case. Acupoint knowledge meant that Yin Xue might be able to deal out acupoint attacks. Dangerous—since such an attack could freeze and block movement. But using it on oneself for such a minor wound… it was foolish. An overreaction.
“Yes, you are,” Wu Ying said, his voice growing in confidence. “Because you only have one chance. And I’m winning.” A reaction at that, but not a huge one. So. Not that. “You don’t want to get hurt again. You don’t like the pain.” A twitch, just the smallest dip in the tip of the sword before it sprung back up immediately. Yin Xue was shaking his head, denying Wu Ying’s words, but Wu Ying had seen the dip. “You’re afraid of the pain.”
“No!” Yin Xue roared, his face flushed as he threw himself forward, desperately rushing to cover the ground, to hack and slash and cut.
But the Long family style was all about staying at a distance, fighting at the outer ranges with reverse lunges and quick circles. A rushing opponent was exactly the kind Wu Ying had trained for all his life.
Dragon steps first, to circle and turn. Covering the clouds with the tail to attack while retreating. And then, as the wounds from the cuts and stabs blossomed, when Yin Xue’s desperate rush failed, as fear took control again, the Sword’s Truth. A single lunge that covered more ground than any single attack should—that focused all the intent, all the knowledge and force of an individual’s chi-empowered body into one attack. In a second, that moment of eternity that is combat time, Wu Ying saw his sword fly forward past the ineffective, waving defenses of his opponent. Ready to end this. End all the taunting, all the anger, all the doubt.
A last-second twitch of his sword shifted the blade from Yin Xue’s heart to his shoulder, and the blade stabbed deep within, carrying the cultivator back. Wu Ying’s blade erupted from Yin Xue’s back. When his momentum finally finished, Wu Ying stopped, straightening and drawing his sword back out with a jerk and a flick of his wrist. Quick steps to move out of reach of his opponent’s weapon, though only then did Wu Ying realize it had been dropped.
Then sound returned. Or perhaps, more specifically, his recognition of the noises around him. The gasps, the shouts of dismay and surprise, the screaming and crying from Yin Xue. The thundering beat of his heart in his ears. Wu Ying turned and stared at the referee, whose mouth snapped shut before he shouted for medical aid.
“Junior Long, you purposely injured your opponent!” the referee scolded Wu Ying, pointing at Yin Xue being led off the stage. “You heard the Elder. Injuries should not be inflicted on fellow sect members. That attack could have crippled Lord Wei! I will register your offense immediately!”
Wu Ying blinked slowly as his adrenaline-fueled mind slowly cooled. He found himself baring his teeth, stepping toward the referee even as his hand clenched around his blood-stained sword. “Go ahead. And while you do that, I’ll register my complaint about how you interrupted our fight to allow him to heal. The fight would have been over earlier, with fewer injuries, if you had not done so.”
“You dare threaten your Senior! You have no respect for the proper order of things!”
“Wrong. I have great respect for the rules and morals of our society. When they’re broken, I have no respect for those who break them,” Wu Ying replied, his lips pulling into a wolfish grin. Pain and adrenaline rode his sense, robbing him of his usual caution. Even now, he weaved from side to side while standing still.
“You dare!”
The referee was vibrating in anger before Wu Ying shook his head, turning aside and looking around. He spotted Elder Shin staring at him, his lips compressed tightly, but the Elder made no move to stop the altercation. Wu Ying turned away from him, searching for and finding Elder Khoo. Meeting the Elder’s gaze, Wu Ying swept his gaze back to the referee continuing to harangue him, sending a silent plea. Elder Khoo looked between the pair before he turned to Elder Shin, raising a single eyebrow.
“Enough. Long Wu Ying has won the match.” Elder Shin’s lips curled up in disdain. “Both matches. With little grace or nobility, but what can you expect from a peasant?”
Wu Ying exhaled in relief, shaking out his sword and pulling another cloth from his robe to begin the laborious process of cleaning off the blood. He managed to make it mostly off the stage before the adrenaline rush finally ended, his control over his cultivation and his body crashing. He groaned as his chi ran rampant through his body, making Wu Ying stumble and fall.
“Rest, friend. You did well.” Tou He’s strong arms caught the exhausted cultivator, helping his friend down as the nobles and Elders watched the pair. Marking them in their minds.
Chapter 24
Days later, Wu Ying was sat cross-legged in the courtyard of his new villa. His new sanctum was the smallest, meanest, and least desired accommodation offered to a member of the inner sect. It was also three times the size of the home Wu Ying had resided in with his parents in the village and at least ten times as luxurious. Mother-of-pearl furniture, marble flooring, and beautiful scrollwork filled the building, set there as if each piece was not worth more than the entire contents of his parents’ house.
For this reason, Wu Ying found the inner courtyard the most comfortable location in his new residence. After he had moved aside the few stone benches, the center of the courtyard was empty of everything but training dummies, scattered pebbles, and soft grass. Even his well-appointed bedroom was too rich to allow Wu Ying to rest easily.
As he cultivated, memories of the last few days passed through Wu Ying’s mind. The days of rest in bed, aided via the lowest-grade recovery pills in the sect. Zhong Shei arriving to congratulate him about his winnings, then bidding farewell as he returned home, a new gleam of motivation in his eyes. The fights in the tournament had set the fire of ambition burning in the guard, giving Zhong Shei direction and a standard to aim for.
Liu Tsong and Tou He had both spent time with the invalid Wu Ying, one to chastise him for pushing himself so hard, the other to bemoan his new status in the sect. Just a day ago, Tou He had taken leave too—forced to join a sect expedition by his sponsoring Elder to “make him take things more seriously.” The ex-monk had only brightened at the prospect of getting to eat some of the spirit meat they were likely to acquire during the expedition.
Liu Tsong was also busy, working on her own areas of improvement. The female cultivator was an alchemist, researching the combination of alchemical potions with normal cooking. Her ultimate goal was to improve the taste of potions, making it possible for cultivation resources to be eaten as part of a daily meal, allowing the slow and careful build-up of an individual’s cultivation. It was because of this interest that Liu Tsong had been at the kitchen on the day they first met. Since Wu Ying had been injured, Liu Tsong had used the invalid cultivator as a test subject for her latest recipes, an act that had helped Wu Ying’s damaged meridians heal all the way.
Chi from the surroundings drew into him, the cleaner and higher air, along with the minor chi-gathering formations in the villa, making cultivating significantly faster. In fact, Wu Ying felt that he was nearing a breakthrough to the next level already.
A knock on his front door interrupted Wu Ying’s meditative cultivation, causing the cultivator to open his eyes. A thready exhalation sent out turbid air filled with the corruption and poison of the material world. Standing swiftly, Wu Ying took hold of the laid-out towels and dried himself, cleaning off the majority of the foul-smelling sweat that had accumulated on his body. A glance down showed that black blood had seeped out from his wounds, marring the whiteness of his bandages again.
Wu Ying’s servant appeared at the courtyard’s entrance, treading around the barrie
r that hid it. “Senior Long, Elder Cheng and Elder Yang are here.”
The servant was another addition, an old woman who few wanted but whose presence Wu Ying found great gratitude for. Without her, he would have to clean and visit the communal dining halls for meals, inconveniences that would have taken even more time from his cultivation.
“Thank you. Let them know I’ll be a few minutes.”
As the servant bowed and moved to relay his words, Elder Cheng strode in, ignoring proper manners. Behind him, Elder Yang—the newly promoted Fairy Yang—followed docilely. The recently promoted Elder looked resplendent in her new robes, her newly formed Core exerting a subtle pressure on Wu Ying even as he bowed to the pair.
“Elder Cheng. Elder Yang.”
Only at Elder Cheng’s gesture did Wu Ying dare raise his head. Unlike outer sect members, the rules and formalities binding those in the inner sect were more rigid.
“I thought I sent word for you to rest and not cultivate. Why did you ignore the warning?”
“I… I… I was bored, Elder. And I did not want to waste time.”
“There is no waste if you spent the time studying your manuals normally. Pushing yourself is good. Pushing until you injure yourself from your stubbornness is foolish. Learn the difference.”
“Yes, Elder.”
“Good,” Elder Cheng said, walking forward. “I wanted to congratulate you in person. Your victory was unexpected and unusual in its methods.”
“Thank you, Elder.”
“But you understand what you did, right? You are the peasant who not only beat your noble peers, but did so in an unsightly, undignified manner. You showcased once again that those with discipline, talent, and will can progress. To those diehard nobles, your presence is an insult, a reminder that they are indulgent children,” Elder Cheng said, his heavy gaze boring into Wu Ying. “They will not let you go. Not you, or those you are close with.” Wu Ying grimaced, and seeing his reaction, Elder Cheng said, “Speak freely.”
“Why does the sect let them? It’s obvious that if they do not take their studies seriously, they won’t progress further. If they push us down—”
“Us being the commoners?” Elder Cheng shook his head. “Politics hampers everything. There are factions that believe that commoners should be treated equally, given equal chances. Then there are nobles who consider themselves above all. It matters not. Those who are fated to ascend in this life will do so.”
Wu Ying stared at Elder Cheng, his eyes narrowing. Of course. Elder Cheng was one of those who believed in karma and fate. Absurdly so, it seemed, especially to those who did not believe as strongly. Even if karma and the threads of fate that bound each soul in the cycle of reincarnation were known facts, those who held so strongly to the beliefs and allowed them to influence their everyday lives were rare.
“I came here to offer my congratulations and my warnings. Your time in the inner sect will be more difficult. Especially as I must leave soon to advance my own training. Elder Yuan will be staying behind. She may provide you additional assistance at her discretion.”
Wu Ying sighed slightly. In truth, he was uncertain how much more difficult life could get—it was not as if the Elder had provided any significant help in the beginning. But Wu Ying could not help but admit that the man had aided him in his training. Without the intensive hours of training over the last few months, Wu Ying would have never won the fights.
Before Wu Ying could think of anything further to say, the Elder departed, his quiet disciple trailing behind him. In the silence left after their departure, Wu Ying found himself standing in his new residence, opulent and decadent, with enemies all around. He had been left alone for now, but Wu Ying knew that the coming months would only bring more challenges.
Still, as he stood in his own residence, staring down the mist-covered mountains, Wu Ying could only smile. Let them challenge him. He had come this far. He would go further. The path to immortality was a journey of a thousand li, and he had only taken his first steps. Heaven or hell, he would not bow.
###
A Thousand Li: The First Stop
Book 2
Chapter 1
The peace of the lush, green slopes was broken by the chorus of bells, rousing Wu Ying from his cultivation. The bells were a reminder for the cultivators of the Verdant Green Waters Sect of the time of day. Each bell was beautiful, harmoniously tinkling along to the sounds of the never-ending rush of water from the glacier-fed waterfalls.
Wu Ying stood, dusting off his robes as he walked out of the courtyard of his building. While there was a quarter hour left before the start of classes, Wu Ying resided in the smallest, meanest, and most remote house for inner sect members. It would take him the quarter hour to arrive at the classroom—if he did not wish to arrive looking as though he had run over.
“Breakfast, lord?” Ah Yee said, holding up a tray.
“No, thank you. Not today. And please, stop calling me lord,” Wu Ying said, his stomach a little knot of tension. Even if he was an inner sect member now, he was still a peasant and being called a lord did not feel right to him.
“Of course, Lord Long.” Ah Yee bowed again before moving out of Wu Ying’s way.
The cultivator sighed and left his house, striding off up the mountain. As much as he tried to correct his servant, the woman was as stubborn as he was. Even outlining the ways he was not a lord—Wu Ying was no nobleman, no Core Cultivator, no magistrate—had done nothing. But if Ah Yee thought he would give up, she would be surprised. Wu Ying was a farmer, and the one thing all farmers had was stubbornness. You had to be if you did not want to starve.
Wu Ying looked around the quiet, dusty trail that led to his house and smiled. The building which housed him was more luxury than Wu Ying had ever experienced in his life. How quickly he was adapting to the new level of luxury did surprise him, and Wu Ying felt somewhat guilty as he reflected upon his dingy, three-bay family home. Still, the money he was now sending back would improve the lives of his parents. If he could, Wu Ying hoped to find some medicine to aid in the healing of his father’s leg, giving him back full mobility. But it was a faint hope for now. Any medicine that could fix decades-old injuries on a Body Cleanser would be ruinously expensive, even for an inner sect member like him.
As Wu Ying hurried along the pathway, the cultivator turned his thoughts away from his family to more immediate concerns. Among them, the most pressing—arriving on time. The Verdant Green Waters Sect covered the full expanse of an enormous mountain, and the numerous buildings, including the lecture halls, spread across a wide area. The outer sect members lived on the lower levels of the mountain with their lodging, dining halls, and services located below. But for inner sect members, their requirements lay higher on the mountain where the important buildings were located.
Each building Wu Ying passed was constructed of expensive hardwood and adorned with detailed carvings along their multi-inclined, partitioned roofs. This gave the buildings a graceful, sweeping stature and ensured that the buildings stayed cool during the humid summer months. Everywhere Wu Ying looked, he spotted members of the outer sect toiling, caring for the beautiful architecture and grounds. The outer sect members undertook the menial jobs, from sweeping the roads to patching worn paintjobs to carrying supplies, that kept the sect functioning and beautiful.
Soon enough, the cultivator came to a fork in the road and took the right fork. The left led farther up, but for today, the mid-levels of the inner sect portion were where he needed to be. At the turn-off, Wu Ying met a familiar face.
“Tou He!” Wu Ying greeted his bald, ex-monk friend.
The smiling man, clad in his orange monk robes, bowed to Wu Ying. That the youngster still managed to wear his old affiliate robes in the middle of the sect spoke to both the influence of his sponsoring Elder and the general respect proffered onto the religious organization.
“Wu Ying. You’re here too,” Tou He said with a smile.
“Isn’t that my
line? You have been gone for weeks now,” Wu Ying said. “What happened?”
“Nothing major,” Tou He replied, scratching the top of his shorn head. “My sponsor felt I needed more training.”
“More training?” Wu Ying’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
Tou He was one of the most natural martial prodigies Wu Ying had ever seen—if not the most. Without even trying, Tou He managed to achieve levels of understanding of martial styles others clawed and struggled their way toward. Tou He had managed to enter the inner sect in his first year, all while doing the least amount of work possible.
“Yes. We had to face a number of demon beasts on the expedition,” Tou He explained as the pair headed toward the lecture halls. “A culling on the Huang Roh Forest. The local lord paid for our involvement, and the Elder was interested in a particular demon stone. We had to trek inward for nearly a week before we found traces of the beast.”
“Sounds exciting,” Wu Ying said.
“Not really. Oh, there were fights, but it was mostly a lot of walking and camping. The only good thing was the amount of demon meat we were able to eat.” A smile lit up the ex-monk’s face. “Have you ever tried third-stage demon boar?” At Wu Ying’s shake of his head, Tou He continued. “It’s so much better than second-stage. The taste is richer and deeper and the fat—”
Wu Ying chuckled as Tou He regaled him about the meat they’d eaten. At the lecture hall, Wu Ying led Tou He around the corner, heading for a side entrance which led them to the top of the hall itself. The rafters were mostly empty, just a few other individuals were present. The vast majority of the inner sect members who were attending the lecture were downstairs, where they were more likely to hear and be heard better.
“What’s this lecture about?” Tou He asked softly.
