A Thousand Li: The Second Sect: Book 5 Of A Xianxia Cultivation Epic

by Tao Wong

  Until he had his aura repaired.

  Only to find that the chi he had absorbed within himself was still rampaging. Spasms shook his body, his muscles twitching, fingers clenched into claws, grasping at immaterial enemies. Nerves fired, jerking his body to and fro, throwing his head side to side. Blood dribbled from his orifices, staining ground and clothing, leaving the air to reek of rotten wood and earthy herbs.

  Yet there was nothing he could do. No knowledge to draw upon to calm the energy. No petty tricks to escape his dilemma. He could only endure the pain.

  Until finally it subsided, and Wu Ying could fall unconscious.

  ***

  “Fool boy, you best wake up. Our Master will be vexed if you leave him with a karmic thread this entangled.” The voice was familiar, gentle and seductive. Even if it was half-bemused and half-irritated.

  As he drifted awake, Wu Ying could not help but reflect how comfortable the ground had grown. It had even shed smooth, silky leaves to cover him. His eyes flickered as they tried to open while he turned his head to the side. Or attempted to. Pain shot through his neck, reawakening tired nerves and bringing with it, its extended family of uncles and aunts of agony, ache, and anguish and the cousins of soreness, suffering, and swelling.

  The groan he released and his feeble attempts at movement were met by pleasant hands pulling him up, propping him against the comfortable edge of the bed he now realized he lay upon. His lips were wetted with water, then a slow dribble poured into his parched throat. Even sleep was wiped from his eyes, discarding the refuse of the night, allowing Wu Ying’s blurred vision to clear.

  To see Elder Yang caring for him, her hair slightly disheveled but a relieved smile on her lips. Useless to say she looked like an immortal fairy, for that was what she always looked like. Still, she seemed even more magnificent to Wu Ying’s tired eyes now. “You’re awake.”

  “Yersh…” Wu Ying slurred. Another mouthful of water, taken slower, allowed him to speak more clearly. “Yes. How did I…?”

  “Get here? I found you curled up on the ground in your outer gardens when I came to see how you were doing after my evening. It took both myself and Auntie Yi to bring you in and clean you up. You were burning up, but with chi.” Elder Yang shook her head. “Liu Tsong was summoned, but she could do little for you but give you a tonic to cool your body. Perhaps Elder Xiong could help but…”

  “Too expensive?”

  “She refused to come.” Elder Yang’s lips curled in disgust. “Said that she had better things to do. She did send one of her apprentices.”

  An inclination of her head made Wu Ying start as he noticed a man standing to the side, hands clasped together. He was a young man in his early twenties, but with the smooth features and the unlined, almost innocent nature of a child surrounding him.

  “Elder, if I may?” He gestured to Wu Ying. Elder Yang withdrew and he stepped forward, taking hold of Wu Ying’s wrist. “I am Senior Hou Huai Cheng. I will be reviewing your body for additional issues and prescribing a treatment regime.”

  Wu Ying nodded, though he need not have bothered.

  Senior Hou had fallen silent, feeling the various pulses[9] within Wu Ying’s wrists, reading the changes on both wrists at the same time. Once he was done, he checked Wu Ying’s hands and other obvious signs of the injuries—going so far as to poke them with a needle and watch black blood escape—before verifying Wu Ying’s tongue color, the change in Wu Ying’s whites, and the flow of his chi through his meridians. When he paused, Wu Ying noticed how deep Senior Hu was breathing, taking in the smell of Wu Ying’s body as he listened to him. Thankfully, either Auntie Yi or Elder Yang—and at that thought, he flushed a little—had washed him.

  Finally, Senior Hou was done, only to walk toward a nearby table. A small gesture had a tiny bound book appear, on which he wrote. “You are lucky. There are not significant changes in your body, even after that failed cultivation attempt. No major new cultivation deviation.”

  “New?” Wu Ying said, worried.

  “Master has already listed your issues. You have a wood elemental body without cultivating it. Without fixing that issue and the blockages caused by the acquisition, further body cultivation is ill-advised,” Senior Hou said, sounding dissatisfied.

  “I was trying that!”

  “Then try better.” Wu Ying growled, but Senior Hou ignored the cultivator and focused on finishing his notes. When done, he left the document open as he stored his pen and the inkstone. “I have a list of herbs and the tonic you should consume, as well as a few pills that you should purchase. I have marked both the optimal cleansing pills and the options you may use if you are unable to afford them.” He glanced toward the quiet Elder at the side before he continued while offering her an ingratiating smile. “Of course, I mean no disrespect, Elder. Master requires us to do so for all prescriptions.”

  “No offense is taken, Senior Hou. Your presence here is most welcome.” Unspoken was the fact that Elder Hou’s non-presence might have been taken as an insult.

  Senior Hou was smart enough not to engage, instead offering a clasped-hand bow to the Elder and a shorter one to Wu Ying before he left. Elder Yang perused the document, calling for Auntie Yi and sending her off to speak with Liu Tsong with a copy of the pills and herbs, before bringing the original document over to Wu Ying.

  Wu Ying lay in bed half asleep, his eyes drifted mostly shut, too tired to consider the details of the prescription. Even raising his hand to take the paper was a monumental effort and letting his eyes track over the words a failure. In the end, Fairy Yang pushed him back down onto his bed to rest.

  Eyes shut, Wu Ying fell into the healthy embrace of his dreams. Exhausted or not, he spent the night tossing and turning, fleeing a rolling flood of moving logs that chased him through the Sect, cackling in all too familiar voices at his misfortune.

  Chapter 6

  Recuperation was tedious and painful. The prescription provided by the doctor was combined, under Liu Tsong’s directions, with Wu Ying’s morning cleansing ritual after a few days. The first day after he woke again, the new tonic had acted much like the cleansing tonic had before—forcing Wu Ying to sweat and expel toxins before a second bowl of nutritious drinks were consumed. The days that followed proceeded in a similar fashion until Wu Ying’s body had healed enough that he could begin the true cleansing process again.

  Days later, Wu Ying opened his eyes from cultivating and saw Liu Tsong reading. He voiced the doubts that had hardened within him over the last few days. “The cleanser is no longer working, is it?”

  Liu Tsong closed her book carefully, after placing a bookmark within, and stored it away. Her motions were slow and graceful, buying her time before she spoke. “For the most part, yes.”

  “Then why are we doing this?” Wu Ying demanded. “I can cultivate and cleanse my meridians, but it’s not my meridians that are blocked. It’s my body. And I can sense that if I try to break through—”

  “You will harm yourself,” Liu Tsong said. “Have you read your body cultivation manuals again?”

  “Yes.” Wu Ying’s afternoons were quieter now that he was recovering. He spent a small portion of his afternoons working with Elder Li, but the rest of the time, he read and studied. Master Cheng had refused to train him until he had recovered fully.

  “And?”

  “I don’t think they’ll help. They don’t focus on cleansing blockages at all.” He shook his head. “Or the blockages they describe, they aren’t the right kind.”

  “And have you looked for a wood-aspected cultivation method for your soul?” Liu Tsong said.

  Wu Ying paused then shook his head guiltily.

  “Why?”

  “I… it…” Wu Ying paused, then continued. “I think I need to find a body cultivation method first. One that will cleanse as much as it pushes my body forward. Maybe it’d be a body cultivation exercise instead, but something to deal with these blockages. When I find that, and the body cultivation m
ethod, then I’ll look for a soul cultivation method. At least, that’s what my intuition is telling me to do.”

  “And have you?”

  “Have I what?”

  “Looked.”

  Wu Ying nodded firmly. “We have nothing.”

  “Then what do you plan to do?” Liu Tsong said.

  This time, Wu Ying hesitated, raising his hand and turning it from side to side. Ever since his last body cultivation attempt, he had begun to see spots on his body. They were small at first, but they were appearing more and more often. Hard to notice, since they were a darker brown than the usual liver spots, harder to see against his tanned skin. But he noticed them.

  Pricking the skin with a needle released the bad blood. Wu Ying had visited Senior Hou the first few times and watched him practice the pricking and study Wu Ying’s changed body, all the while paying him out of borrowed contribution points. These days, late at night, Wu Ying did it himself.

  But they kept coming, and they kept growing.

  Whether or not the others knew—and considering how much they had spent, how involved the others had been in his recovery, he would doubt they had missed it—he was running out of time.

  “I think it’s time to go on another trip.”

  ***

  The clash and clatter of weapons, the grunts of tired and hurt cultivators were the first things Wu Ying sensed. Soon after, an errant wind brought the scent of sweaty bodies and the hint of spilled blood, before it turned around, caught the hard edges of the mountain, and blew the smells away. As Wu Ying’s feet brought him around the corner, he spotted the training grounds for the martial cultivators.

  Memories of easier times, of pleasant hours training when his life was not on the line, returned. Martial cultivators, getting ready for the winter and having returned from the war, had streamed back onto the training grounds. The ground was bare, swept clean across the scattered fighting platforms to ensure that the duelists were offered a firm grip. The shimmer of chi barriers, erected to safeguard watchers, sparkled in the corner of Wu Ying’s gaze.

  As he wandered down, Wu Ying caught hints of the various auras, the various cultivation levels of those ahead as he breathed in deeply. The wind brought the scent of an individual’s cultivation, a method taught to him by his Master and honed in the last few months. He guessed at cultivation levels, elements, and even details of amount of stored energy. Even for fighters that had left already.

  His Master had begun the process of training Wu Ying’s sense of sight, the most common method to read another’s cultivation and the flow of the chi. It was going slowly, since the lessons were without structure and ad hoc. Still, when he concentrated, Wu Ying could bring up the shimmer of an individual’s aura one time in five. It also, as he had been informed by a laughing Li Yao, made him look like a constipated three-year-old when he tried.

  Speaking of the laughing, good-natured female cultivator, Wu Ying spotted her in the middle of a crowd. Ever since he had broken up with her, the young cultivator had seemed to gain a more attentive audience. Some, Wu Ying knew, were new inner sect cultivators. The trials normally held at the end of autumn had been brought months earlier to integrate the new sect members faster, the concerns of war pushing the sect to alter its own deadline. Many others were old flames, driven by jealousy, seeking her hand.

  Of course, the young lady continued to rebuff them. Or… did she?

  Eyes narrowing, Wu Ying noticed how her hand rested on another’s a little too long. Said touchee was tall, with long, lustrous hair that was kept in a neat bun-and-hat combination, held in place by jade pins. He held a fly whisk as a weapon—an unusual weapon. Good-looking, if you liked pretty boys.

  Shaking himself slightly, Wu Ying sped up his steps that had inadvertently slowed and continued to peruse the grounds for his target. Hopefully he would be here. If not…

  “Wu Ying!” Li Yao called, forcing him to turn and greet her as she bounded closer.

  Her admirers followed reluctantly, exchanging greetings with Wu Ying. The cultivator noticed how the tall cultivator looked a little dissatisfied when Li Yao left and took note of his greeting in particular.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Cultivator Long. Hu You Rou,” the tall man said. “I have heard much of your sword work from Sister Yao.”

  Wu Ying’s eyes narrowed, noting the familiarity in the greeting. And the fact that Li Yao made no move to correct him.

  You Rou added, “I have long wanted to try it.”

  “Oooh, you definitely should taste Wu Ying’s sword,” Li Yao said enthusiastically. “He’s very good. He could keep up with me for hours!”

  You Rou glared at Li Yao but quickly banked his anger when she looked at him. Instead, he turned his ire on Wu Ying, waiting with barely restrained patience.

  “I’m sorry, I really just came here to find a friend,” Wu Ying said.

  “Oh! I know where he is,” Li Yao said. “I’ll tell you if you fight.”

  “I don’t know, I’m recovering…” Wu Ying said. A part of him wanted to pick up the sword though. He hadn’t trained with anyone but his Master in ages, other than an occasional bout with his Elder Sister. Neither of whom were worthy opponents.

  Being beaten black and blue while your opponent looked on, barely even breathing hard, did not make for worthy opponents in Wu Ying’s estimation. Great teachers, not great opponents.

  “Ah, of course. We wouldn’t want you to strain yourself and lose,” You Rou said.

  Wu Ying jerked his head up.

  Beside him, Li Yao hissed. “That’s not nice, Ah Rou!”

  In the background, Wu Ying heard other comments, but he was busy fighting off the anger, the part of him that wanted to take up the challenge. He made himself consider the matter dispassionately, to breathe deeply and sense You Rou’s cultivation base. Low Energy Storage, maybe only a single open meridian. A hint of crisp air, similar to Li Yao’s scent, made Wu Ying blink. Cold aspected. Both of them.

  It might explain their closeness.

  “Well, I guess we should fight,” You Rou said, turning to the others. “We came here to train after all. We wouldn’t want to get sloppy and get injured.”

  “Fine.”

  You Rou turned around as Wu Ying finished speaking. “Pardon me?”

  “Let’s practice. I’ll just need to get a practice weapon,” Wu Ying said. “Fourth stage looks empty. Will you charge it up?”

  Not bothering to wait for You Rou to answer, Wu Ying stalked over to where the practice weapons sat. He inspected them, honing in on a jian and running his fingers along the hilt. As his fingers touched the blade of a practice sword made of redwood, he felt a little jolt. He blinked, his fingers returning to the weapon, sensing the weapon again.

  That was strange. And new.

  He took the sword, swinging it around. The edges were blunted, the weight different. The weapon itself would move differently from a metal jian. Stiffer in some ways, more flexible in others. Heavier too, though the balance was good.

  But it was the way it felt in his hand, the way his chi seemed to creep up the weapon, to mix with it, that made him pause. He’d not felt this with a weapon before, except a few times when he was in tune with the weapon, with the moment. When all time and space, all individuals and pieces of the world were proper and correct, in the exact location it needed to be as dictated by the Dao.

  A shift in the air, a gentle breeze pulled at his hair. He felt a few stray strands flutter. He drew a breath in, the deep loam of the earth rising to his nostrils, the sap within the redwood seeming to grow liquid and fresh once more.

  “Are you coming, or have you changed your mind?” You Rou called, startling Wu Ying from his contemplation.

  Hefting the wooden practice weapon again, Wu Ying turned and grinned. “Coming for sure.”

  A few quick steps and he was on the stage, passing through the barrier. He felt it snap shut behind him, closing down hard around the edges of his aura. Hefting the weapon a
gain, Wu Ying swung it around a couple of times while his opponent stared at the loaner weapon with ill-disguised contempt. Of course, not everyone had enough funds to buy practice weapons or a storage ring to carry them around all the time. But try telling that to the nobles.

  Wu Ying mentally chided himself for thinking that way. Not all the nobles were like that. And in fact, many of the merchants’ sons were just as bad, if not worse. After all, they did not have the prestige of their houses to lean on for their arrogance.

  “Hu You Rou. Hu-family flying whisk,” his opponent announced, shifting his stance slightly so that his left foot was back and the whisk was held before him, to the side.

  “Long Wu Ying. Long family sword style.” He glanced at the whisk, surprised that it was not just for show but an actual weapon. Especially now that he could see the carvings, sense the flow of chi through the weapon. An enchanted weapon, not like his practice sword.

  As for his own weapon, Wu Ying was a little distracted by it. There was a pulse to his weapon, a flow that made it feel lighter, move easier than any weapon he had held before. An aspect of his elemental body? He wasn’t certain, and the middle of a fight was not the time to consider such things. Especially not when his opponent swung his whisk, carving a glittering, chilly word in the air.

  “First movement of the Hu-family style,” You Rou announced. A moment later, he jabbed forward, the character bursting apart and flying toward Wu Ying’s still form. “Cut!”

  The entire air-written word flew toward Wu Ying, glittering in the sunlight. Rather than face the attack directly, not knowing what it could do, Wu Ying ducked to the side. His controlled movements turned into a desperate roll when the character exploded halfway to him, turning into streams of energy—similar to his own Dragon’s Breath attack. But higher in number.

  Rising to his knees, Wu Ying cut straight at his opponent, pushing energy through the practice jian. The flow of chi was faster, smoother than ever and his attack erupted earlier than he had expected. Half of it cut into the ground, the other flying at an angle toward his opponent.