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

by Tao Wong

  The monster’s motion paused for a fraction of a second, giving Wu Ying time to focus his next attack. The second form of the Sword’s Truth, an attack that combined the Dragon’s Breath and the lunge. It was the same attack, the same motion physically. But unseen was the way Wu Ying channeled his chi. It flowed, just as he had done with the formation flags, out of his body, flooding the sword in his hand and combining with the metal chi in the bracer. It all concentrated, focused on the tip of his sword and held close by Wu Ying’s aura, which had extended itself to the sword.

  The attack transcended what a mere Body Cultivator could perform. It was meant for those in the Energy Storage stage. Understanding and wielding the deeper meaning of the weapon, combining it with the chi of his body, and sending it in a single, focused beam of energy.

  The attack ripped apart the air as it crossed the distance to the taotei and dug into its wounded side. The wound tore open, the beam of sword chi cutting through skin and muscles, tearing at veins and tendons. Then it petered out as Wu Ying and the bracer ran out of energy. The cultivator swayed even as the taotei, flinching in surprise, landed off-target.

  A knee gave way, then another, and Wu Ying caught himself on the ground with the tip of his sword. He braced himself against the weapon, raising his head with great effort to see the bleeding and angry monster stagger back to its feet.

  “Not enough,” Wu Ying said to himself dispiritedly. “Not strong enough.”

  The taotei shook itself as it turned to Wu Ying, fixing him with a malicious gaze. It roared at the insignificant insect who swayed from the rotting breath. Rather than die on his knees, Wu Ying attempted to stand, failing the first and second time before he managed to rise while leaning on his planted weapon.

  “Maybe I could make it choke on me?” Wu Ying said half-heartedly.

  He looked around. Chao Kun was still staggering over, already half-dead. Tou He lay on the ground, twitching as his body suffered from the attacks. The cauldron lay unmoving, Liu Tsong trapped within. Elder Wei coughed blood, her body and meridians damaged. All the other cultivators were down or, like Wu Ying, barely able to stand.

  Turning once more to the slavering monster that stalked forward with its ungainly, injured gait, Wu Ying dug deep, finding an ounce more of stubbornness, and drew his sword from the ground.

  Time to die.

  Chapter 23

  Time to die. Wu Ying felt the words resound in his mind as he stared at the demon as it jumped, its mouth open wide. Rows of razor-sharp fangs, a couple bent askew from Wu Ying’s punch, closed in on him. The cultivator raised his weapon, the blade of the jian at his eyes as he readied himself to use the Dragon Stretches in reverse. A reverse lunge, putting his jian down the monster’s throat. It was an attack he was unlikely to survive, but perhaps he could force it away. Hard to eat when you had a metal rod stuck down your throat.

  Time stretched, fractions of a second elongating into eternity as the creature flew closer. Eternity in a breath. Wu Ying found himself staring into the creature’s nostrils, spotting the black hairs within. Saliva fell, gravity taking forever to act as black blood sprayed behind. Time stretched, till it did not.

  Now.

  Wu Ying’s back leg extended, gravity dropping his body faster than any muscle could. Lead hand stretched forward to pierce the demon’s mouth. Stretched into the mouth, even as it closed.

  Then the body shifted. The mouth, which was meant to close around Wu Ying, moved aside, a ripple of flesh and teeth shoved aside as Wu Ying watched. Even if everything felt as if it was moving like molasses, Wu Ying had no time, no ability to shift the angle of his sword. He cursed mentally as he saw his final attack go awry.

  And then time sped up.

  The taotei, about to land and swallow him whole, was blown away. A golden body flashed by, following the fist that had struck the demon. Together, the two tumbled into the distance, kicking up dirt and destroying the precious kurinji bushes.

  Wu Ying, having exhausted his mind and energy with that last motion, collapsed. He lay there, too drained to move, as the sounds of battle resounded through the meadow. Having overdrawn his body and will, his consciousness faded for a few minutes.

  When he woke, Wu Ying found a sliver of energy had returned. He struggled to his knees and found a delicate helping hand pulling him the rest of the way up. Wu Ying looked at the hand to see the entire limb heavily bandaged in familiar green cloth.

  “We did it,” Wu Ying said after he caught his breath. He idly noted his bare feet had stopped bleeding, the torn flesh crusted over. The pain radiated, but it was no worse than the strain in his meridians.

  “We did,” Liu Tsong said, looking into the distance.

  Wu Ying followed her gaze to catch sight of the battle. A familiar dented and lopsided cauldron floated in the air, occasionally dipping down to strike at the lurching monster. Spikes of hardened earth and stone erupted from the ground, tearing into the demon’s body, while pits opened up beneath the monster, disrupting its balance. Disdaining such petty tactics, Elder Po stood in front of the demon spirit and lashed out with fist and feet, each blow so powerful it rippled outward and made loose earth dance.

  Seeing the battle well in hand, Wu Ying searched for Li Yao’s form. He frowned, not spotting it where it had fallen. He took a tottering step, only for Liu Tsong to catch his arm and turn Wu Ying. By the remnants of the cauldron fire, a makeshift first-aid station had been created. Ru Ping, Chao Kun, and a few less-injured cultivators worked on those still unconscious. Those included, to Wu Ying’s relief, both Tou He and Li Yao. As Liu Tsong had Wu Ying pointed in the right direction, she guided the exhausted cultivator over.

  “Should we not help them?” Wu Ying said, trying to turn his head back toward where the Elders fought.

  “Help them?” Liu Tsong said with a laugh in her voice. “How?”

  As if to punctuate her words, another concussive blast of air washed over the pair, making them stumble. A painful roar erupted from the beleaguered taotei before a hacking, liquidy cough followed.

  “Point taken. Were they always this strong?” Wu Ying said.

  The difference between Elder Po, Elder Li, and Elder Wei was even more marked. Elder Wei could only provide support at this moment, her wobbling cauldron dipping down to smash the taotei when an opportune moment came up.

  “Elder Po is a semi-martial specialist. Much like you and Tou He,” Liu Tsong said. “Once they broke through to peak Core, my Master was bound to be left behind. She, like me, does not specialize in hitting people.”

  “And a single in-stage cultivation growth was this great?”

  “Of course. Each stage adds a new layer to a cultivator’s Core. Each layer in a cultivator’s Core protects their soul and reinforces their meridians, allowing one to increase the amount of chi they wield. As each layer goes on top of the next, each increase is bigger than the next.”

  “Right…” Wu Ying said. It was not as if he had not known that, in theory, but having it explained to him and seeing the effects were somewhat different.

  Strength.

  They had it. And he, still, did not. Wu Ying found he desperately wanted it. Not because he wanted to hurt someone, not because he had a contest to win or even to protect another. Wu Ying found himself desiring strength to have choice. More choices than the ones he had found himself faced with. Be eaten while facing the monster coming for you and your friends. Or run and be eaten anyway. Those were unpalatable choices.

  Strength. Strength meant choice.

  “Wu Ying?” Liu Tsong squeezed his arm, bringing his attention back to the present. “Did you realize something?”

  “Yes,” Wu Ying said.

  It was not enlightenment. He did not see a greater portion of the Dao. Or perhaps, he did, but it was insufficient. But it was a clarification, a resolution. It was not enough, Wu Ying knew, to resolve all of his concerns and thoughts on cultivation. Not enough to clarify his dao. But at least, Wu Ying realized, he wanted i
t. Not just cultivation for cultivation’s sake, but to gain. To gain… something. That something, Wu Ying knew, he had yet to find. Learning what it was was part of his journey, of finding his dao.

  “But it’s nothing that can’t be dealt with later,” he said. “Come, let’s get your arm looked at properly. And see if there is any food left.”

  Liu Tsong broke into a light laugh, which was punctuated by another bone-shaking thud as the Elders fought. Together, Wu Ying and Liu Tsong limped over to the remaining cultivators.

  The remainder of the battle between the Elders and the taotei was anticlimatic. In short order, the Elders left the sightlines of the group, tearing up the mountain as they pursued the monster. Wu Ying could not find it within himself to care. Even the fighting techniques the Elders used were so far outside of Wu Ying’s, and most of the other cultivators’, experience, it was like asking a three-year-old to learn to grow rice by watching his family. The three-year-old was more likely to cause harm than grow a proper rice stalk—either over-watering, planting in the wrong direction, or crushing the rice plant. All things in the proper time, in the proper order.

  Knowing this, Wu Ying helped to organize the aid station, boiling water, cleaning wounds, and prepping food. Exhausted or not, Wu Ying was one of the better-off cultivators, especially after he had cleaned and bandaged his wounds. The addition of a flesh-mending pill helped, the anti-pain properties providing Wu Ying some succor.

  It was to an organized and exhausted group the Elders returned to, smiling and joking. Elder Wei was the sole individual who looked unhappy, the loss of her treasured pill cauldron weighing on her.

  “Good, very good. Start another fire. I have a haunch of the taotei. Let us eat, drink wine, and be merry,” Elder Po said, his face flushed with victory.

  “We should rest, heal, and return to the main group. Elder Dong is likely to be worried,” Elder Wei cautioned instead.

  “Bah! Let him worry. We can send a messenger talisman if you are concerned,” Elder Po said. “As the formation is down, it should be no issue.”

  “Ah Li?” Elder Wei said, turning to Elder Li.

  “Let us stay. I have another set of formation flags we can set up. Less complicated, though less powerful. It should be sustainable solely from the ambient chi,” Elder Li said.

  “Fine.” Elder Wei walked aside and pulled a talisman from her storage ring.

  A few whispered words, then Elder Wei folded the talisman, forming a paper crane that she tossed into the air. The paper crane beat its wings, flying in a straight line toward their base camp.

  “Where is my fire!” Elder Po said, stomping around the clearing till he found a suitable spot. “Ye Fan, bring your earth flame over. It shall taste all the better.”

  A couple of hours later, as the group enjoyed the roasted taotei haunch, Wu Ying could not help but agree. The succulent and chi-infused meat was lightly gamey, the taste of garlic cloves and crushed herbs suffusing the meat. The taotei skin was perfectly dry and had bubbled up as moisture fled the fatty flesh, creating a light and puffy crackling that shattered and spread the dry fat through the mouth with each bite.

  “So, mphhf, good!” Li Yao, who had woken at last, sat propped up against a pair of convenient blades. In her hands was a chunk of meat, which she tore into.

  Beside her, Liu Tsong sat, having discarded her normally graceful demeanor to follow Li Yao’s example.

  “Unfair,” Tou He said from his spot on the ground. Due to his injuries, he could not eat any of the solid food. Wu Ying looked at his friend with concern once more, only to be offered a smile. “Stop worrying. You are worse than my old Master.”

  “But your injuries—”

  “Will heal,” Liu Tsong said for Tou He. “There is some semi-permanent damage, especially to his spine and hips. But those can be fixed at the sect.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” Wu Ying looked down, the slice of meat in his hand suddenly tasting like ash.

  “You needed an opening. And you didn’t disappoint,” Tou He said.

  “Rubbish. I did nothing to it,” Wu Ying said, recalling his attack. How he had put everything he could into the strike only to see the taotei shake it off.

  “You did well nonetheless,” Chao Kun said, dropping heavily down beside them. His actions prompted the martial specialist to wince, bruised and torn muscles protesting. “You were fighting a Core cultivation monster and managed to injure and slow it. That is something to be proud of.”

  When Wu Ying continued to look down, Li Yao threw a piece of meat at Wu Ying’s face. It splattered on his cheek then slid down to the ground. Flushed with anger, Wu Ying looked at the source of the attack to see Li Yao holding a small rock next.

  “No taking my credit. That wound in its side was mine first,” Li Yao said.

  “I wasn’t—”

  “And no feeling down. We’re alive. Many others aren’t. We’ll burn some incense sticks and paper money when we return. And get stronger. That’s all you can do as a martial specialist,” Li Yao said.

  “I’m not a martial specialist,” Wu Ying replied, but seeing Li Yao toss the stone down beside her, he found himself smiling.

  “No. But you fight like a badly trained one,” Chao Kun said, slapping Wu Ying on the back. “Which makes you better than most others.”

  “Hey!”

  “My apologies, Liu Tsong. You were… well. You are not that good,” Chao Kun admitted, and it was Liu Tsong’s turn to toss a piece of meat at Chao Kun. Of course, the senior martial specialist was more adept than Wu Ying, intercepting and swallowing the flying piece of meat with ease.

  “Better than you. Punching the taotei in the head. What? You didn’t think it had as thick a head as you?” Liu Tsong taunted.

  Wu Ying smiled, watching his friends revel in the food and the fact that they were alive. Even Tou He, too sick and disallowed from eating, was smiling. As Wu Ying turned his head about, he spotted Li Yao smiling at him, and he flushed, ducking his head. Well. They’d survived. And it seemed he might owe the lady a dinner. Pushing aside the sorrow in his heart, Wu Ying focused on the meal and the slight wind that blew across the meadow, brushing against his skin. He focused on the meal and that other, all-important truth.

  They were alive.

  A week and a half later, the expedition group trooped back into the sect. The expedition avoided the main gates, entering via a smaller side path. Those who were injured were taken to the physician’s hall, their helpers dropping off the injured cultivators before being chased out. Most of the lesser injured had spent the slow journey back healing their own wounds.

  As they stood outside the physician’s hall, Chao Kun glanced between Li Yao and Wu Ying before he excused himself, citing additional work needing to be completed.

  Left alone, Wu Ying looked at the young lady for a moment. “Assignment hall?”

  “Sure. You’ll need the taels for my meal,” Li Yao said.

  “Now?”

  “Were you thinking some other time?” Li Yao said, shaking her head. “There’s no better time than now.”

  Wu Ying savored her words. After a brief hesitation, he offered her his hand before he led her to the assignment hall.

  Time.

  Time to enjoy their lives as cultivators. To enjoy being alive. Time to receive what was owed them. To train and improve their cultivation. Time to grow in strength.

  Because if there was one thing Wu Ying was certain about, it was that there would be another incident. Another time of heart-stopping terror.

  That too was the life of an immortal cultivator.

  ###

  THE END

  Wu Ying will be back as the shadows of war loom in book three of A Thousand Li:

  The First War

  Glossary

  Aura Reinforcement Exercise—Cultivation exercise that allows Wu Ying to contain his aura, trapping his chi within himself and making his cultivation more efficient and making him, to most senses, feel like
someone of a lower cultivation level.

  Body Cleansing—First cultivation stage where the cultivator must cleanse their body of the impurities that have accumulated. Has twelve stages.

  Cao—Fuck

  Catty—Weight measurement. One cattie is roughly equivalent to one and a half pounds or 604 grams. A tael is 1/16th of a catty

  Chi (or Qi)—I use the Cantonese pinyin here rather than the more common Mandarin. Chi is life force / energy and it permeates all things in the universe, flowing through living creatures in particular.

  Chi points (a.k.a. acupuncture points)—Locations in the body that, when struck, compressed, or otherwise affected, can affect the flow of chi. Traditional acupuncture uses these points in a beneficial manner.

  Core formation—Third stage of cultivation. Having gathered sufficient chi, the cultivator must form a “core” of compressed chi. The stages in Core formation purify and harden the core.

  Cultivation Exercise—A supplementary exercise that improves an individual’s handling of chi within their body. Cultivation exercises are ancillary to cultivation styles.

  Cultivation Style—A method to manipulate chi within an individual’s body. There are thousands of cultivation exercises, suited for various constitutions, meridians, and bloodlines.

  Dao—Chinese sabre. Closer to a western cavalry sabre, it is thicker, often single-edged, with a curve at the end where additional thickness allows the weapon to be extra efficient at cutting.

  Dantian—There are actually three dantians in the human body. The most commonly referred to one is the lower dantian, located right above the bladder and an inch within the body. The other two are located in the chest and forehead, though they are often less frequently used. The dantian is said to be the center of chi.