by Tao Wong
***
Over the next few days, Wu Ying spent his time enclosed in his residence, alternating between cultivation and study. Ah Yee was tasked with the work of alerting Wu Ying of any useful lectures as they appeared, allowing Wu Ying to focus entirely on study.
Some occupations were easy enough to discard. He didn’t have the time or desire to become a physician for example. Or a dancer. Music as a supporting occupation was intriguing, but it required a certain level of skill and talent to allow music to become a weapon. While Wu Ying could—and did—sing during the harvest and spring festivals, he had never been lauded for his ability. He had a farmer’s voice—acceptable in groups, pitiful alone. As for instruments, theirs had never been a family of music.
Other occupations had some intriguing possibilities. Scholarship required little from its students in the beginning. It was an arduous and long journey though, with the amount of knowledge one must accumulate ever increasing. But it did have the secondary advantage of allowing one to potentially sit for the kingdom examinations[31], a decent backup plan if there ever was one. Certainly it was a way for Wu Ying to be near his family and stay in the kingdom if he failed to progress in his studies as a cultivator.
Celestial formations was another intriguing area. The documentation provided was sparse, insufficient for Wu Ying to truly grasp. But it seemed to require both a talent in that area and a willingness to spend long hours studying the natural world. Still, the powers a formation power could provide were significant. What Wu Ying did learn was how there were two types of formations—those which were custom-built, like the sect’s defensive formation, and those which were created from pre-made formation flags, transportable to numerous locations but significantly less powerful.
Beast taming was impossible, even if intriguing. Wu Ying liked animals, but without a proper guide, it was not an area he could explore. And liking animals was vastly different from dedicating oneself to the care and development of them through one’s existence. Other occupations, like fortune telling, toolmaking, and puppet mastery, were not practiced in the sect anymore, even if their books were present.
Then, of course, were the “mundane” or “common” supporting occupations that were made more exotic through the use of spiritual power and their handling of spiritual items. Spirit stone miners traversed deep mines, often in the most dangerous wilderness locations, to mine spirit veins and pull forth naturally occurring spirit-infused stone. Wu Ying was even more amused when he found reference to spirit farmers—farmers who worked with chi-infused rice, herbs, and other vegetables. Eating those ingredients along with demon beast meat—hunted by both martial specialists and demon beast hunters—could boost a cultivator’s absorption rate of chi.
Wu Ying sighed and tossed the latest book with its allusions to demon beast hunters onto the table in his office, crossing his arms in exasperation. “Does every occupation feel the need to add ‘spirit’ in front of its name to make it more prestigious?”
“Just about.”
Wu Ying spun around to see Liu Tsong leaning against the wall, hands rising in defence. The smiling female cultivator was clad in the willowy robes of the inner sect, setting off her slim, almost boyish figure.
“Senior!” Wu Ying jumped up and bowed to her. “I did not know you were here.”
“Ah Yee must be out. I knocked but received no answer, so I came in,” Liu Tsong said. “But most occupations desire to be seen as more prestigious. And with the thousand and one daos in the universe, most occupations can locate some prestigious cultivator or immortal to back up their claims.”
Wu Ying clenched his fists as anger washed over him. How foolish was it to reach into the past and borrow the name of an immortal to raise one’s work? If the work itself was not good enough in your own eyes, then only misery would accompany your existence for no external validation would ever be enough. The rain clouds did not ask if the farmer approved; they came or not as they desired.
“Some occupations make a better case than others, of course. And some, like pill refining, demon beast taming, and blacksmithing, are inextricably linked to cultivation. Others are secondary.”
Wu Ying glanced over the manuals. “Does Senior have any recommendations?”
“So formal,” Liu Tsong mocked Wu Ying. “There is no harm in specializing as a martial specialist in the beginning while familiarizing yourself with the various occupations offered. Even if you never take it further, knowing the basics of blacksmithing and pill refining is beneficial.”
“I guess it could not hurt to check out the various occupations,” Wu Ying said, realization seeping in that research did not need to occur only in the library. “Thank you for your guidance.”
“Good. Good,” Liu Tsong said with a smile. “Now remember, speak with the administrative hall first! If you wish to begin with pill refinement, you should try for an assignment at the pharmacy, but many vie for those. Without sufficient favor or an Elder’s backing, you can forget about receiving a role there.”
“Oh.”
“Do not look so down. You merely have to study properly. It might be slower, but spending time studying the basics will reinforce your learning,” Liu Tsong said. “Also, during the winter period, many vie for a place in the pharmacy. But it’s the worst time to be there because the number of new refiners is at its peak.”
“Isn’t that good? More work?” Wu Ying said, confused.
“More of the same kind of work. Everyone is trying to make the same Bone Cleansing, Meridian Opening, Spirit Strengthening pills. After you pull the herbs for the tenth time, you’ll be able to recognize them with your eyes closed. Then there are the frost binding, chill warding, ice warding pills.”
“Bitter much?” Wu Ying asked.
Liu Tsong gave her friend a wry smile. “Yes. I got ‘lucky’ too. You’re so busy you never get a chance to look at the other stored herbs. Spring and summer often see many of the beginner refiners, the overconfident ones, give up. Then there are more seasonal pills too, so your running is wider too.”
“The weather makes a difference?” Wu Ying said curiously.
“Of course! Drawing in the right chi is important for the proper development of certain pills. You could set up or use spirit formations to regulate the chi and environment, but those rooms are expensive to rent from the Sect. Better to plan your production around the seasons,” Liu Tsong said.
Wu Ying nodded, grateful for the wisdom the woman imparted.
“Now, if you’re serious about learning, you should purchase a copy of the Principles and Species of Roots and Herbs[32].”
“Is it available at the library?” Wu Ying said.
Liu Tsong shook her head. “Only a few copies, and those are not annotated. You need to pick up your own and begin annotating it. While it is comprehensive, there are mistakes in the work itself, as well as much that isn’t covered.”
“Oh. Do you have one?” When Liu Tsong indicated she did, Wu Ying asked thoughtlessly, “Can I borrow it then?”
“No!” Liu Tsong crossed her arms. “Would you show others your cultivation manual?”
Wu Ying winced and bowed low, offering profuse apologies. A moment later, he felt a light smack over the top of his head.
“Get up. I know you didn’t mean anything from it. But it’s still not something a refiner will ever show.”
“Yes, Senior.”
“Good. Now, make sure to come to my class in a week.”
“Your class?”
“Well, really, my Master’s. But because it’s for beginners, she has assigned me the task of showcasing the basics of herbology,” Liu Tsong said, preening a little.
“Congratulations, Senior. I’ll be sure to come. With my own copy of the compendium.”
“Good, good. Now, what else have you been up to?”
“Well…”
Soon enough, the pair fell into the usual gossip of sect life. But in the back of Wu Ying’s mind was the desire to progress both his c
ultivation and secondary occupations.
Chapter 3
The clang of hammers beating on iron rang through the building as the sweltering heat from the active forges made the cultivators sweat during this winter day. Two days after Wu Ying’s talk with Liu Tsong, he registered and squeezed himself into the most recent batch of blacksmithing students. There were, in fact, two different classes starting today. One group, consisting mostly of inner sect members, stood to the side and listened to the senior blacksmith as he explained their objectives for the day. All of those individuals had prior experience with blacksmithing and were now being given a series of projects to complete to gauge their level of expertise.
Wu Ying was in the other group, one consisting of a couple of his fellow newcomers to the inner sect and a few outer sect members. As Wu Ying looked around, he was amused to note that unlike the willowy, pale scholar appearance—which was the norm among the sect—many of the blacksmiths were muscular and stout. In fact, the blacksmith speaking to them was bare-chested, his sect robes tied off around his lower body as sweat gleamed off his pectorals and collected on wiry, dark chest hairs.
“You lot have indicated interest in blacksmithing. Just because you are interested does not mean we are in you,” the blacksmith growled. “I, Gan Ji Ang[33], will see to your suitability. Each of you will be assigned a forge bellows to work. You will work the bellows for the day, following the directions of the assigned blacksmith. If you fail, if you stop, you will be removed from the class. Do you understand?”
The chorus of agreements made Ji Ang smile, his scruffy short beard, pocked with burnt spots, pulling against his lips. The blacksmith assigned the various students to forges. Wu Ying found himself deep in the building and far away from the open doors. As he walked farther in, Wu Ying felt sweat breaking out across his body under the intense heat.
“Hot…” Wu Ying said.
“You’re not fire aspected,” the cultivator who walked up said. This cultivator was broader than most scholars, but not overly muscled like the older blacksmiths. However, Wu Ying could sense the cultivator was strong, at least in the middle level of the Energy Storage stage.
“No,” Wu Ying said, surprised the other had noticed. Ever since he had begun practicing the Aura Strengthening technique, few others than Elders could accurately grasp his cultivation.
“Then make sure to drink a lot of water,” the cultivator said. “I do not need you fainting on me while I work.”
“Yes, Senior. This junior is Long Wu Ying,” Wu Ying said, bowing.
“Wang Bao Cong.” The blacksmith walked around the forge a bit before turning to Wu Ying. “Go gather more coal. Quickly!”
By the time Wu Ying managed to return with the coal—after asking for directions to the charcoal storage—Bao Cong had finished his inspection of his work area. In short order, Bao Cong ordered Wu Ying to shovel in more coal and pump the bellows. As Wu Ying worked, Bao Cong laid out the raw iron to be melted down and reshaped.
“Listen well. I need you to raise and keep the fire at a high temperature for most of it, and we’ll be raising the temperature even higher later. Do not slack off and keep working the bellows. I will inform you when to stop or when to increase your efforts,” Bao Cong warned Wu Ying.
Over the next few hours, Wu Ying worked under the direction of Bao Cong. Soon, even Wu Ying’s muscular arms ached as sweat dribbled down his face. Wu Ying soon learnt to keep the water skin close by, ready for use when he had a brief break. Out of the corners of his eyes, Wu Ying paid as close attention as he could to the entire process.
Blacksmithing consisted of a few parts. He began by melting the raw iron and tossing away the slag, the unneeded portion of metal. Afterward, Bao Cong placed the molten iron in molds, allowing the iron to cool into ingots, ready for working. Once the ingots had cooled enough, Bao Cong would begin the actual process of blacksmithing by heating the metal in the forge before pounding the metal into shape. Over the next few hours, Bao Cong would pull out the metal, hammer it flat, then reheat the metal when it cooled too far, striking the iron ingot into the shape he required.
At first, Wu Ying found the entire process fascinating. But soon, the cultivator grew bored. Lacking proper education or an explanation, Wu Ying did not understand why Bao Cong pulled out the metal at certain times, beat on it and returned the metal to the forge at others. While Wu Ying could tell Bao Cong was striking the metal at specific angles, he could not understand what those angles were, the rhythm of motion, or why the other cultivator frowned and returned the metal to the forge.
As no explanation was ever provided, Wu Ying found his attention waning. He kept one ear out for orders from Bao Cong, content to keep working the forge bellows as instructed, acting almost on automatic. Mostly though, he felt back into his mind, looking for and locating his dantian.
The lower dantian was where Wu Ying’s chi was mainly stored, flowing in circles and contained in the nebulous space beneath and behind his navel. There, the chi—that force of nature and creation—Wu Ying had gathered and made his own flowed, entering his meridians and traversing the pathways of energy of his body. Most of this was done automatically, as simply and unconsciously as his heartbeat.
Cultivation was the act of channeling that chi in an active manner. Drawing chi into his body from the external world, making it part of his existence, and using it to cleanse clogged and dirty meridians. Properly done, the process was both a filtering and cleansing process, like filtering water and using that new clean water to wash drainage pipes that had been dirtied by repeated use. Since most external chi was aspected in one form or another, it was important for an individual to alter that chi and make it his own, transforming that chi in his body.
At the Body Cleansing stage, a cultivator like Wu Ying had few uses for chi other than to cleanse and strengthen his body. Each cleansed meridian increased his strength as it allowed more chi to be used in even the most casual of motions. Of course, to cleanse a meridian, one must have sufficient chi to flood the cleansed meridian, or it would once again require cleansing.
In either case, for the vast majority of cultivators, cultivation was done while being still. The concentration and care required to move chi through one’s body was so great, they dared not do so while moving. A mistake while cultivating could injure or potentially cripple a cultivator, especially if said cultivator was soaking in chi from a moment of enlightenment. But due to previous training, Wu Ying was not one of those individuals.
In fact, Wu Ying often found it beneficial to cultivate while moving. His preference was to be running, moving to new areas of fresh chi. As such, being in the forge and working the bellows was less optimal. But, to Wu Ying’s surprise, the constant flames released a significant amount of fire chi into the air, along with threads of metal chi. Wu Ying worked to absorb and strain this chi through his dantian, concentrating and forcing the aspected chi out and keeping the unaspected amount within his body. This process of straining the chi was taxing on mind and body, forcing Wu Ying to drink water in ever greater amounts.
Over the next few hours, the pair worked together. When Bao Cong finished his first piece and moved on to another project, Wu Ying stayed by the forge, working the bellows in companionable silence. The pair began to move in sync, Wu Ying unconsciously gaining a rough understanding of Bao Cong and his needs. It was, if Wu Ying took the time to analyze the matter, more an understanding of Bao Cong’s body language and how he looked at and interacted with the iron than an understanding of the process itself.
As the day drew to a close, Bao Cong finally quenched his last project. After setting the piece beside the other projects, he turned to Wu Ying and instructed the cultivator on how to bank the forge. Wu Ying slowed then stopped his cultivation, stretching sore muscles and unkinking his back as he stood up fully.
“Good. Now, put the rest of the coal inside there and—what is that smell?” Bao Cong exclaimed as he neared Wu Ying.
Bao Cong stepped back
, holding his forearm to his nose as he desperately breathed through his mouth. As Bao Cong was no longer focused solely on his work, the pervasive stench of Wu Ying’s cultivation sweat, flash-dried in the heat of the forge, began to tell. It was a mixture of rotten eggs, overturned manure, pus, and stagnant swamp water, all baked and concentrated.
“Ah… that’d be me.” Wu Ying’s own nose wrinkled as he opened the rafter windows wider.
“Cultivating while working the forge. And not even as a fire chi user,” Ji Ang said, his voice mild as he strode over. “An interesting use of your time in my forge.”
“Elder.” Wu Ying bowed to the other, his motion copied by Bao Cong.
“It took you two long enough to finish. All the others are done,” Ji Ang said, gesturing around the forge.
At a glance, Wu Ying could not spot any of the cultivators he had entered the forge with in the morning. Not that the forge was empty. Other blacksmiths had taken over the forge spots, working on their own projects.
“Let us see what you have here,” Ji Ang said.
Wu Ying started to approach before he received a pair of glares. Embarrassed, the cultivator hung back while still peering at the three projects Bao Cong had worked upon that day. The first was a simple straight knife, one which lacked a hilt at this time. It had a full tang running down the slight arch which made up the guard of the knife. The second was an open-faced pot-helm Wu Ying knew was made of two pieces hammered together with a third strip of iron solidified over the weld. The last piece was perhaps the prettiest of the three—the blade of a jian. Even from this angle, Wu Ying could tell the sword was a notch better quality than the pieces that he had worked with before he entered the sect.
Ji Ang took his time in checking the pieces. He checked them for burs and unfinished spots, for weight and distortions. For the sword, he even bent the blade with his bare hands before releasing the blade and checking its angle again. While Ji Ang went over the projects, Bao Cong watched the Elder, his face a mask of impassiveness. But from behind him, Wu Ying saw how the cultivator clenched his fists, how they tightened whenever Ji Ang stopped or peered at something more closely.