A Thousand Li: the First Stop: A Xanxia Cultivation Series
Page 3
“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[4], 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 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 Chang 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 Chang and his needs. It was, if Wu Ying took the time to analyze the matter, more an understanding of Bao Chang’s body language and how he looked at and interacted with the steel than an understanding of the process itself.
As the day drew to a close, Bao Chang 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 Chang exclaimed as he neared Wu Ying.
Bao Chang stepped back, holding his forearm to his nose as he desperately breathed through his mouth. As Bao Cang 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 Chang.
“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 pa
ir of glares. Embarrassed, the cultivator hung back while still peering at the three projects Bao Chang 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 Chang 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.
Ji Ang put the projects aside. “Barely adequate. The tempering work could be done better. Heat distribution was barely acceptable. The iron you used was not purified properly. And you are using the most simplistic of hammering techniques for all three. It would have been better to use the Three Leaf technique for the dagger and the Seven Wind and Two Blossom technique for the sword. As for your helm, well, for a peasant, it would be acceptable. No one else would wear such an ugly piece.”
“Yes, Elder,” Bao Chang said, bowing his head as he was reprimanded.
“Take your pieces and give them to the shop. They will price and sell them for you. Come back tomorrow. We will work on your technique,” Ji Ang said, waving.
Bao Chang bowed, taking hold of the three pieces. Wu Ying tilted his head sideways at the Elder’s words before he remembered the works completed by the blacksmiths were their property. All blacksmiths paid the rental of the forge with sect contribution points and could elect to pay for materials with their points or with real money. Because of this, the materials and final products were considered theirs.
Wu Ying’s musings were cut short as Ji Ang turned toward him, staring at the cultivator. “You are unaspected, correct?”
“Yes, Elder.”
“Mmm… fire aspects are good for the actual act of forging. But do not be misled. It’s not required. Metal aspects are extremely useful as well—the resonance with ores and metals provide a blacksmith a strong base.”
“Thank you for your advice, Elder.”
“Good. Now as for your work,” Ji Ang said, scowling. “Who told you to cultivate?”
“I… well…. No one, Elder.”
“Fool. Your job was not just to last the day but to learn! Did you grasp the difference in the color of the coals? Did you see how much of a difference the temperature and airflow you provided mattered? How about when Bao Chang pulled out his work?”
“But I couldn’t tell!”
“Of course not! Did you expect to learn how to do it immediately? Learning is a matter of repeated attempts. The more you pay attention, the faster you learn. If you are not interested in learning, I have no use for you.”
“My apologies, Elder.” Wu Ying bowed, wincing as he chided himself for taking the easy way out. He knew better too. It was not as if what Ji Ang was saying was any different from what his father had taught him before.
“You will come back in three days and join the class. You will work the bellows alone. If you fail to work the bellows the entire day by yourself while the class is learning, you fail. If you cultivate or lose focus, you fail. Do you understand?” Ji Ang said, leaning forward and glaring at Wu Ying.
“Yes, Elder. Thank you, Elder.”
“Good.” Ji Ang stalked off.
Once the Elder left, the pair of waiting blacksmiths moved toward the now-abandoned forge, shooting Wu Ying semi-pitying and semi-disgusted looks. With a grimace, Wu Ying scurried away, his face burning with shame at having the pair overhear his dressing down.
Still, at least he had not been barred. He only needed to do better.
He would do better, Wu Ying vowed, as he hurried away to wash off his shame. And sweat.
Chapter 4
“Thanks for showing me around,” Wu Ying said as the pair walked along the stone paths. This morning, Wu Ying and Tou He were headed to the training grounds reserved for inner sect members. In particular, the second largest training grounds—the one unofficially reserved for the martial specialists. “And sorry again for leaving you.”
“No need for the apology,” Tou He said. “I was forced to complete a lot of paperwork anyway. But I’m surprised you’re interested in martial specialization.”
“Why?” Wu Ying said with a frown. “It seems like a good fit with my family training.”
“Oh, you have the training,” Tou He said, nodding. “But you’re not like… well, you’ll see.”
“Not useful.” When Tou He refused to elaborate on his cryptic statement, Wu Ying added, “How about you? How did you end up with the martial specialists?”
“My sponsor sent them to find me,” Tou He said with a roll of his eyes. “Seems like he felt I would fit in.”
“And do you?”
“It’s been fun sparring.”
Wu Ying shook his head at his friend’s statement. “Are you going to take this as your supporting occupation?”
Tou He shook his head. “Too much trouble. I was thinking of specializing in tea ceremonies.”
Wu Ying stumbled, turning to stare at Tou He. Wu Ying’s jaw worked, words failing to come before he sighed and slapped his friend on the back. “Then I’ll expect to be invited to more tea parties.”
“We’ll have to find a third then,” Tou He said.[5]
Wu Ying spotted a quartet of nobles, each of them clad as gaudily as they could manage in sect robes, sauntering along the paths. In particular, Wu Ying’s gaze flicked to a noble’s jian, sheathed at his side. Bedecked in jewels and gold on both sheath and hilt, the weapon looked useless in combat to Wu Ying’s experienced eyes. His lips curled at the sight.
“What are you looking at?” the noble in question snarled.
“Nothing,” Wu Ying said reflexively, before remembering and straightening himself. He was no longer a peasant or an outer sect member. While they might have a higher status, it was only by degrees. “Nothing at all.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” The noble stepped closer before his friend blocked him with his fan. The jian-wielding noble’s gaze flicked to Tou He, and recognition appeared in his eyes before he inclined his head to his friend and erstwhile leader.
“You pair are the new Body Cleansers from the latest intake, yes?” the leader of the opposing cultivators said.
“Yes, Senior,” Tou He replied.
“Leave them,” the leader said. “There’s nothing to be gained from dealing with Body Cleansers.”
The bejewelled-jian-user sneered at his friend’s words, but still, the group walked off. Wu Ying compressed his lips, his hand clenching and releasing by his side before he shook his head. The damn nobles thought they were so much better…
“Let’s go, Tou He,” Wu Ying said.
His friend smiled wryly and led the way, bringing Wu Ying to the training grounds without further incident. When Wu Ying arrived, he found his attention taken by the impressive view. The training complex was made up of a trio of double-story buildings which ringed the grounds. Toward the northern portion of the grounds, the archery range abutted the slope of the mountain. In the center of the training grounds, a series of raised combat stages were situated in the traditional hexagram pattern. Those farthest from the entrance glimmered in the morning sunlight as the chi barriers broke up the rays. The chi barriers were erected to mitigate attacks delivered from within. Closer to the entrance, the stages were bare of such extravagances, meant for those looking to practice mundane techniques or who could not project their chi as yet.
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Already, in the early morning, numerous bodies crowded the training floors. Some trained in the bare ground in the west working a variety of wooden dummies,[6] while others walked, skipped, jumped, and otherwise moved from painted footprint to painted footprint. In another portion of the floor, various kettle bells and iron jars were being used to build strength; a few of the more enthusiastic individuals being beaten upon by sticks while carrying those jars.
Overall, the entirety of the training grounds was filled with muscular, enthusiastic, and focused individuals. While the majority of those were men, there were a significant number of women moving through the routines, most of them wielding weapons of one form or the other.
“Brother Tou He!” a cheerful voice called from within the grounds as the pair made their way down. The speaker had the longest hair Wu Ying had ever seen on a man, flowing all the way down to the bottom of his buttocks and carefully braided. Outside of his outstanding hair, the man was quite plain, with brown eyes and a flat nose. “I see you brought a guest.”
“Senior Ge,” Tou He greeted the other with a smile. “This is my friend Wu Ying. Wu Ying, this is Senior Ge Chao Kun. Senior Ge is a Sect Core member.”
“And quite advanced in his energy cultivation,” Wu Ying said with admiration. Even now, he felt the push from Chao Kun’s aura. It was evident Chao Kun was close, if not ready, to begin the process of assimilating a Core. “Thank you for having me here, Senior.”
“No need to stand on ceremony. Here, we only care if you can fight,” Chao Kun said. “Are you ready to do so?”
“Yes, Senior,” Wu Ying said.