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

by Tao Wong

  “Long expeditions,” Li Yao said, shaking her head.

  “Not our choice,” Tou He said.

  “Of course not,” Li Yao said, then fell silent, looking perturbed.

  “What is it?” Wu Ying said.

  “I’m not sure I can come.”

  “No one invited you,” Wu Ying teased.

  “You should watch your mouth—” You Rou said, growing irate once more.

  Li Yao placed a hand on his arm, quelling further comments. “Wu Ying was teasing. He does that. It’s not as if he would say no to my spear at his back.”

  “Or me,” Tou He added. “Anyway, this is my expedition. He’s just a guest.”

  “Bah! You didn’t invite me, so we’re just traveling together.”

  “Mmm, maybe I won’t share my invitation with you then.”

  “Men!” Li Yao exclaimed, sitting back on her chair and crossing her arms. A rather exaggerated pout appeared on her face. “You went on your last trip without me and looked what you got!”

  “Stabbed in the chest and nearly dead?” Wu Ying said.

  “Stabbed in the ass by a fish?” Tou He muttered.

  “Burnt?” Yu Kun who had been silently consuming the snacks added. “And injured?”

  “Prestige! Fame! An adventure!” Li Yao shouted, waving her hands around excitedly. “All the inner sect members are talking about it. You even fought the dark sect directly!”

  Yu Kun looked glum. “Don’t remind me.”

  “What’s wrong?” Li Yao said. “Are you not proud that you managed to save an Elder? I hear Elder Gao has set his eyes on you for your contributions.”

  Yu Kun paled a little while Wu Ying winced. Elder Gao—the grappling specialized, snail-form Elder—was many things, but a lenient and forgiving Master was not one of them.

  “Don’t forget probably being targeted by the dark sect too,” Yu Kun said.

  “Let them come. I’d relish the chance to beat them down!” Li Yao said, thumping a hand on the table. A couple of teacups jumped, splashing tea on the wooden table.

  Auntie Yi arrived a moment later, wiping things clean once more after she deposited the new snacks on a dry spot.

  “Really, can’t take you anywhere,” Wu Ying said once the servant had retreated. “I’m sure you’ll find more than enough things to do here. If what I’m hearing is true, they’ve already begun attacks on other sects. And infiltrated others.” He shook his head. “As Sister Yang says, we must cultivate and grow stronger if we want to be of use in the upcoming fight.”

  “War,” You Rou corrected. “It’s a war, not a fight. Every time the dark sects crawl out from the shadows, it’s been a war.”

  You Rou’s pronouncement drew the jovial atmosphere to a close as the group found themselves contemplating the possibility of a sect war. While they had learnt of such matters—both in stories told late at night during winter evenings and in more formal classes at the Sect—living through one was a different matter entirely.

  For not all who participated would survive. Unlike the stories, the heroic and the good died as often as the evil and cruel. The only true protection in a war was strength. And none in that room counted, in the greater stage of the jianghu.

  ***

  The next day, as the sun began its final descent, Wu Ying found himself down the mountain, taking a less used path near the end of the trail to the newly created settlement that housed his family and the village he’d helped move over. It had taken quite a significant amount of work to tear down the forest, clear the land, and set up the fields last year, but as Wu Ying turned the corner of the switchback, he was greeted by the fruits of the village’s labor.

  An entire village of Body cultivators—along with minor help from the town and sect where Wu Ying could afford it—had done wonders to the formerly untamed land. Rice paddies in carefully managed tiers abutted the mountain, all fed from the streams that ran down the highland. The fields were now fallow, the third harvest taken in. Only a few were still filled with water to house the carp that fed the farms through the winter and kept mosquito and other insect populations down during the summer.

  Cultivators moved between the fields, checking on the drainage and the walls, reinforcing and building them up as necessary. The greatest portion of the village was working on expanding the fields, some digging out the new lands, others pushing back the chi-engorged forest.

  Unlike in his ex-village, Wu Ying noted protective talismans encircling the entire village, warding it against demon beasts. Villagers worked with spears and bows and arrows close on hand, ready in case they were attacked. No peaceful, tamed lands were these.

  “Ho! Wu Ying!”

  Calls of greetings arose from the villagers as they spotted him. He grinned and waved to the villagers, stopping to chat with familiar faces. He laughed and joked, though he also noted the distance. Familiar as he was, he now had a different status than them. As loathe as he was to acknowledge it, the villagers, literally residing beneath the shadow of the Sect, were unlikely to forget such matters.

  Er Ru, the raven-haired beauty of the village, her face slightly flushed, hurried up to the crowd around Wu Ying, the group parting to allow her in. She brushed at her hair, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. Idly, he noted that her face was still a little damp and a streak of dirt lay missed near her ear. “Are you staying long this evening?”

  “I’ll be having dinner with my parents,” Wu Ying said.

  “Oh. Good. I was hoping…” Er Ru said, sounding a little disappointed. She then shook her head. “Well, it’s good. They’ve missed you.”

  “And I them.” Wu Ying said. Then, tilting his head from side to side, he muttered to the old village head Tan Cheng, “Am I wrong, or has there been an increase in the cultivation base for the village?”

  “You are not wrong,” Master Su called. Wu Ying’s old cultivation teacher—and teacher for the entire village—puffed up with pride. “The environment in the village and the hardships we endured has seen breakthroughs for many of the villagers. As I’ve always said, cultivation is about hardship and challenge! Being forced to move has seen us face both. The new land has forced us to reconsider much that we thought was true.”

  “Congratulations then, to everyone,” Wu Ying called. He grinned, waving the group aside so that he could stalk over to the village center. A table used for a variety of tasks throughout the day was cleared before Wu Ying gestured and pulled out a whole Spirit Boar, already cooked. “And a little gift.”

  Exclamations of surprise and thanks rose from the crowd. Wu Ying laughed, waving it all away, even as he added a few jars of wine to the mix. Soon, an impromptu feast and the end of the day was called, with the villagers rushing off to add to the simple meal.

  Left alone at last, Chief Tan crossed his arms and stroked his chin. “You knew.”

  “I’d heard of the improvements.” His brief forays to visit his parents last winter and then, when he was able to visit while recuperating, had given him hints. Simple questioning afterward had given him the answer. “I meant to do this at the mid-autumn festival, but…”

  “Humanity plans, but fate chooses,” Chief Tan said, nodding. “It is good that you remembered us. But you should pay more attention to your own well-being. You are the pride of the village. Your success is ours.”

  Wu Ying waved away the words. When Chief Tan looked to pursue the matter, Wu Ying pointed at a pair of approaching figures. “I must go. Thank you, Chief Tan. I hope you and the villagers enjoy the meal. Keep cultivating and maybe some of the others might join the Sect too!”

  “That is the hope!”

  Wu Ying hurried over to his parents, offering the pair a deep bow with his hands clasped. They stopped before him, returning the bow as well. As he rose, Wu Ying studied them closely, relieved to see that they were well. In fact…

  “You broke through again, Pa Pa?” Wu Ying said, surprised. “You’re now at the Eighth-level of Body Cultivation!”

 
His father grinned. “Yes. Those pills you gave us really did help.”

  Wu Ying smiled, clasping his father’s hand. He felt the new strength in his father’s grip, the confidence in his posture. Even the lines on his face had grown less shallow. Though his parents might be a little old to make true progress on the path to cultivation, they could still progress. And the new environment seemed to suit them.

  His father had been a surprise, but when Wu Ying eyed his mother, his jaw dropped. “You’re at the Ninth-level! Why did you not say so?” That would make his mother the strongest person in the village, at least to Wu Ying’s senses. And that was surprising, considering his mother had never been one for cultivation. “What happened?”

  “Oh, this and that…” his mother said, waving away the question. A finger rose—a finger more dangerous than his father’s sword—and pointed at Wu Ying. “Don’t think giving the village a feast will help you escape explaining why it took you so long to come visit again! Or how you injured yourself once more.”

  “I didn’t think so at all.” He lowered his voice a little. “If we head back to your house, I’ve brought food just for us. We can speak there.”

  His mother eyed him for a second, then seeing no deception, waved him to lead the way. She followed with his father, the older man’s limp so slight that it might have been missed by one not familiar with him. Wu Ying was long used to seeing it, and a wave of sadness flowed through him. Once, his father might have been a great cultivator, until his injury. Now, he was but a great father.

  Though perhaps that was the greater fate. His father would probably have agreed, as would his mother.

  ***

  Dinner, a dinner he’d had Auntie Yi prepare with spirit meat and vegetables and he’d brought down in his Spirit Ring, had been consumed. Leftovers had been packed away, leaving the three to sip on the tea his parents had brewed. No wine, for the discussion they would have after dinner would take hours and be entirely too serious for drunken discourse.

  The talk over dinner had been familial and touched only lightly on serious matters, mostly on purpose. Wu Ying was brought up to speed concerning the goings-on in the village, the village’s plans, and the actions they had taken to improve their harvest. Being close to the untamed wilderness had improved the rice harvest and being in close proximity to the town and the Sect had ensured that many questions about cultivation had been easily answered. Master Su projected that the overall level in the village would rise at least a few levels, with potentially the entire village reaching the middle stages of Body Cleansing.

  On top of all that, the increased fertility from the natural chi flows of the forest and the better food stocks available—including spirit and demon boar meats—had seen a boom in pregnancies. Squalling children of all sorts were expected or had already arrived, increasing the population of the village. Of course, that added to the pressure to grow the village, but it was all expertly managed by Chief Tan.

  What Wu Ying read, in between his father’s litany of funerals and accidents, was also an increased number of attacks and his father’s new, dominant role as protector and hunter. He regularly ranged outside the weak talisman field, helping to dissuade animals from approaching the growing village.

  As for his mother, she obstinately refused to explain her sudden growth in cultivation, going only so far as to indicate it had more to do with a single burst of enlightenment than any replicable process. What that moment of enlightenment had been, she kept closed-lipped on.

  Eventually though, the conversation turned to Wu Ying’s life, his recent troubles, and his upcoming trip.

  “Aiyah!” his mother exclaimed. “Always putting yourself in danger and traveling, our son is.” She shook her head. “Always in trouble.”

  “Don’t scold your son. He’s an adult now,” his father said jovially. “He’s also a cultivator. They all get into trouble all the time.”

  “Not that nice Elder,” Fa Rong said, eyes glittering. “You know, the pretty one. She said she never got into trouble as an Energy Storage cultivator.”

  “Pretty one?” Wu Ying said.

  “Yes. The one your father couldn’t keep his eyes off when she came to visit. The one that all the men and some of the young boys all clustered around,” Fa Rong said.

  “Was she pretty? I never noticed,” Yu Ri said.

  “Really?” Fa Rong said. “Then how is it that you don’t offer to walk back that Ru Ping too?”

  “She was a woman!”

  “And a Core cultivator. Much more able to care for herself.”

  His father sniffed, turning away from his mother. Having had her fun, she dropped the topic.

  Wu Ying, grateful to see them done, added, “Sister Yang was part of the last expedition, you know.”

  “Against those dark sects.” Yu Ri idly stroked the hilt of the sword he had still belted on.

  “Yes,” Wu Ying’s tone turned dark.

  “I don’t mind you risking your life to grow your cultivation. That is expected,” Yu Ri said. “But must you involve yourself in this?”

  “I’m already involved. I don’t think I can stop,” Wu Ying said. He looked around the new home they had built, the simple packed earth walls that separated the various portions of the residence empty of nearly everything but the bare necessities. No small family memorabilia, almost the barest of kitchen necessities or housing furniture. “It’s possible that you all will be affected too.”

  “Only if the Sect falls. And even then, we are rice farmers. And even dark cultivators must eat,” Yu Ri said.

  Wu Ying nodded a little doubtfully. While action against the peasants of the land happened, more often than not, the sects left them alone. Outside of the truly dark, dark sects and a few demon sects that worshipped demons requiring massacres, most villages would face but demands for gold and food. The most important thing—their lives—would be spared.

  In truth, the peasants were more in danger of the army of Shen than any dark sect. Armies needed to eat too, but in quantities that could drive villages to starvation. Rampaging and ill-disciplined soldiers could destroy villages or kill with few consequences. And more than one general had seen the strategic need to remove his enemy’s ability to resupply in future years.

  Still…

  “You’re also right under the Sect now,” Wu Ying said. “I’m not sure how safe you all are. Not anymore.”

  “Danger is a fact of life,” Fa Rong said, placing a hand on Wu Ying’s arm as she continued on in her motherly voice. “Trying to flee from it will only result in the quick end of all that makes it worth living.”

  “I worry about you.”

  “I believe that is our job,” Yu Ri said.

  His mother laughed, making Wu Ying flush a little.

  “So serious. But this wood elemental body of yours. You say they believe it’s from our bloodline?” Yu Ri said, a small line creasing the center of his eyebrows. At Wu Ying’s nod, he sighed. “I cannot remember any stories at all about such things. If it is true, it would have been long in the past.”

  “It could be from mine,” Fa Rong said teasingly. She shared a quick smile. They both knew how unlikely that would be.

  “Maybe, Ma Ma. But we think it’s more likely to be an old trace from the Long family,” Wu Ying said.

  “Though…” Wu Ying perked up a little as Yu Ri said, consideringly, “Perhaps your Sixth Uncle might know more.”

  “Sixth Uncle?” Wu Ying said, trying to place him.

  “The one in the capital,” his mother supplied.

  “The one who gave only a single tael for your wedding!” Wu Ying said, remembering the often-told story. He had not even bothered to come, instead sending the wedding gift via mail.

  “Yes.” Fa Rong’s lips pressed tight, old-remembered hurts flaring to life.

  “He might know more. Those in the capital always kept better records,” Yu Ri said. “I will write to him. If he knows anything, I’ll be sure to send it on.”


  Wu Ying smiled, then thinking about it, pulled out a token. He infused some of his will into it, marking it with his chi signature. “Give this to the gate guard. They might not let you in, but at least you’ll be able to pass on a message this way.”

  Taking the token from Wu Ying, Yu Ri promised to send any news he received. He looked happier, knowing that he could help his son. Being able to help him, who had long flown high above their station, brought them a little joy and a little relief.

  As for Wu Ying, he could not help but think of how he too could procure additional methods to safeguard his parents. Neither of them would consider becoming servants, being entirely too independent—and being entirely too old. Until he became an Elder, he could not bring them to live with him in the Sect either. That left him with purchased enchantments, single-use items that could protect and attack in his stead.

  But for now, he was too poor to do that.

  Still, whatever dangers they might face, it would not be this night. Or in the near term. The Sect was strong, its walls high, its enchantments robust. The Patriarch and the Sect Protectors would see off any dangers. And Wu Ying had a night to spend with his parents, being the filial son he was.

  Tomorrow, he would be the hard-hearted, ambitious cultivator. Tonight, he would listen to his parents tease one another, speak of everyday farming problems and joys. And remember where he came from.

  Chapter 8

  Preparations for the day of departure consumed Wu Ying, making the days before his leaving a hectic rush, one that left him collapsed in bed at the end of the day, exhausted.

  Rather than continue to train Wu Ying’s tired and healing body, Master Cheng had allowed him to rest and recuperate. Master Cheng’s only request for the trip was that Wu Ying train with such wooden swords that he might acquire, to test the variances. And test, Wu Ying intended to. But he had long boat rides to undertake, and an even longer trip. All of which required funds.