A Thousand Li- the First Step

by Tao Wong

  Together, the group gulped and looked at the bags by their feet. At this point, they realized that Fa Yuan had left. Quickly looking around, Wu Ying’s jaw dropped when he spotted the cultivator skipping across the water toward the cliff face. In seconds, she arrived and was lightly jumping upward, directly ascending the mountain beside the waterfall.

  “No wonder she left us…” Wu Ying muttered.

  Climbing the way she did, Fa Yuan had a significantly shorter journey than if she had taken the “normal” route. Of course, her path required a certain level of expertise in qinggong. Turning back to the task set before him, Wu Ying blinked at the others.

  “What are you doing?” Wu Ying exclaimed.

  “Lightening the load,” Yin Xue replied calmly. With a last tug, Yin Xue finished knotting up his bag, the bag of rice that he had extracted now on top of Wu Ying’s bag.

  Following his lead, his friends had added another bag of rice to Wu Ying’s bag, reducing their burden. Wu Ying glowered at the group as they took off running, laughing at the prank they had pulled.

  A single bag of rice was not much of a reduction and could easily be blamed on bad packing by the dock workers. However, the additional four bags would mean his trip up would be significantly tougher. For a moment, Wu Ying considered discarding the rice bags there. After all, it was not his job to carry theirs. But—what if he was punished for leaving the items? Certainly, Fairy Yang had not been the kindest of mentors.

  “I’ll just consider it more training,” Wu Ying said after a moment.

  It didn’t take him long to get rope to secure the rice bags, which allowed him to heft the now extremely heavy contraption to his shoulders. Together with the five original bags, he now carried nine rice bags—each weighing twenty jin[8]. Breathing deeply, Wu Ying started at a slow walk to get used to the weight.

  By the time he had reached the gate and the slate-covered staircase up, Wu Ying was moving at a slow jog. Nowhere near as fast as the coolies who brushed past him, their long, wiry legs pumping with the ease of constant practice. Still, having achieved a rhythm, Wu Ying concentrated and began the process of cultivating while moving. After all, he was just climbing a mountain.

  An hour and a half later, Wu Ying caught up with the first noble. Having overheard their conversation, Wu Ying knew that this particular recruit had only just achieved Body Cleansing 4 before the army arrived. Furthermore, from the snide remarks passed between the group, Wu Ying was pretty certain the noble had achieved the majority of his development from spiritual herbs, rather than hard work. And while such methods worked, they left gaps in one’s cultivation, in his body.

  “You. How are you walking with all that?” the noble panted, hands on his legs.

  Wu Ying mentally tutted. His teachers and father would have beaten his back till he straightened up. Still, after calming down his cultivation and sending the threads of chi back into his body, Wu Ying replied. “Because I have to, no? After all, we have come this far. To go back now, it would be a shame.”

  Discarding the noble from his mind, Wu Ying took another step. Even that momentary stop had taken its toll on his strength and stamina. Perhaps stopping was not the wisest idea after all.

  “Idiot peasant. I can’t let him beat me,” the noble muttered behind Wu Ying, who ignored him as he strode upward. As a coolie jogged down the trail past Wu Ying, he heard a question that intrigued him. “Hey, you, yeah. Coolie. How far is it up?”

  “For us? Two hours. For you… six.”

  Six. Grimacing, Wu Ying did the math quickly. There was, perhaps, another four hours before the end of the day. And while he was faster than the noble, he was not that much faster. To be safe, he should try to double his speed. Leaning forward slightly, Wu Ying pushed off his back foot, speeding up. Once he’d established a new pace, Wu Ying let his conscious mind slip into his body once more, touching his dantian and the core of energy that sat in it.

  A gentle push, and his chi flowed through his meridians. He absently noted how the coolies who came up from behind him sped up their steps to pass him faster, the stench of his impurity-laden sweat lingering in the air. Thankfully, deep in his cultivation, Wu Ying could not smell himself.

  Forty-five minutes later, Wu Ying came across the next pair of nobles. This time around, Wu Ying found no reason to stop, no desire to speak with them. A glance toward the setting sun informed him that he might have another couple of hours left before it set. Floating in that languid place of movement and cultivation, it took a long time for Wu Ying to realize why his initial estimation was wrong. In the mountains, sunsets happened much faster. There was no slow lingering on the horizon.

  Discontent rushed through him, forcing Wu Ying to stagger and grip the rock wall for a second as his concentration broke and his chi rampaged. Wu Ying breathed hard, trying to calm down the pain that shot through his body. He coughed slightly, tasting blood from burst blood vessels in his chest and throat before he wiped his mouth. No. No time for this.

  Focus.

  His legs ached from overuse, his lower back throbbed with each motion, and his shoulders, his shoulders were on fire. He could barely feel his arms anymore. Even circulating his chi had only helped so much. And still, he had to carry all of this. For a moment, Wu Ying considered discarding the extra rice, but he shook it aside. No. Leaving the rice bags on the trail would be even worse than leaving them at the docks—who knew what would happen to the bags? Animals and other creatures could easily break the bags open.

  And pain. Well, when wasn’t life painful? Working the fields every day, planting and caring for the rice stalks, digging and reinforcing the canals that flooded the rice paddies, harvesting the grain and starting all over again. Life was pain. But if you chose only that to focus on, then you forgot to enjoy the rest of your existence. A fresh breeze blowing by, carrying the smell of cooked lunch and fresh water. The lanterns that covered the village during the festival in early spring. His first kiss, stolen just before they had to go to class.

  Small things, all the sweeter because of the pain. Perhaps for the nobles, this was excruciating. A true test of character. But it was no harder than working in a thunderstorm, trying to save as much of the harvest as possible. Or the times he had tilled the soil by pulling the tiller himself because the ox had been lent out to someone more in need.

  Pain was a constant companion if you were a peasant. And this? This was just another Tuesday.

  A step, then another. In time, he found his rhythm again. Then he picked it up further. At some point, he stopped cultivating consciously. A thread of chi rolled through his body, flooding his meridians and empowering him. But never did he stop.

  “Is this it?” Wu Ying said, blinking slightly at the small gatekeeper’s hut. Beside it, the paifang, the traditional three-arched structure that denoted the entrance to the sect, stood before him. The paifang was washed in lush green paint, the circular pillars decorated with jade and gold. And at the top was the banner that named the sect.

  “Don’t leave your bags there. Take it to the storeroom behind the kitchen,” the gatekeeper growled when Wu Ying looked as though he wanted to collapse.

  “Where…?”

  “Straight up the hill. Third road on the right, go to the back of the building.”

  Groaning, his legs trembling uncontrollably, Wu Ying struggled forward. A part of him noted that he hadn’t seen Yin Xue since the docks. As much as he disliked the other, Wu Ying had to admit Yin Xue’s cultivation at Body Cleansing 4 had been well reinforced with both herbs and practice. In either case, Wu Ying would not let his failure to be the first up the mountain stop him.

  “Just a little more,” Wu Ying muttered as he staggered up the hill. He swiped at the sweat that collected on his brow, reaching for the water pouch at his side and finding it empty. After all, he had not expected to climb a mountain. “Why are the roads so far apart?”

  The paved roadway before him was wide, so wide that it almost felt as if he was back in to
wn. The shrubbery and trees beside the pathway were carefully managed and trimmed, while the pathway itself was swept clean by hard-working sect members in simple, dark green clothing with verdant green stripes. But the roadway stretched on and on, the incline gentler but seemingly never-ending. Ten minutes of staggering and he finally found the second road that branched to the right.

  “Just one more,” Wu Ying panted. He flexed his fingers, trying to force blood flow through his dead arms as he staggered forward.

  Various sect members who were on their way back, now that night was falling, stared at the weaving boy, muttering among themselves at the insanity. After all, his bag bulged with rice bags, some strapped to the sides and top.

  The corner. Finally. Wu Ying staggered to the right, almost bowling over a young lady as she came walking out. He twisted his body desperately, attempting to dodge her and stay balanced. He partially succeeded, leaving the young lady unmolested but himself on the ground, facing the sky. A wave of exhaustion ran through him as he watched the last rays of sunshine fade.

  Fade.

  Why was that important?

  “Are you okay? Do you need help?” the woman asked.

  “Fine. I am fine,” Wu Ying said. Except when he tried to stand, he could not do so.

  “Lying down on the job,” Yin Xue said mockingly as he strolled up. “How typical of a lazy peasant.”

  Wu Ying groaned as he tilted his head backward and sideways, spotting Yin Xue strolling forward. Even the normally kempt noble looked slightly bedraggled after the long walk, though Wu Ying knew he likely neither smelled nor looked as bad as Wu Ying. Yin Xue’s words were enough to ignite what little passion was left within his body and forced Wu Ying to roll sideways and struggle to his feet, his head going light as he reached halfway. As he began to fall, a hand gripped his arm and pulled gently but firmly, supporting his weight and the bag’s with ease.

  “You?” Wu Ying said, blinking as he stared up the slender arm to spot the woman.

  She smiled at Wu Ying demurely. “Lee Liu Tsong. You should take care better care of yourself.”

  “Thank you, Senior Lee,” Wu Ying said.

  It was no stretch to imagine that she was his senior in the sect. Liu Tsong had a beautiful, heart-shaped face and long hair that had been collected in the back in a simple bun, held together by a jade comb piece. As a Body Cleanser, she had extremely fair skin with nary a spot, but the strength she exhibited obviously indicated she was higher than Body Cleansing 4—at least 5, if not 6.

  “Go. You should deposit that soon, otherwise Elder Huang will be upset,” Liu Tsong said.

  “Thank you.” Wu Ying bowed his head then stumbled forward.

  Yin Xue shifted his foot slightly, almost as if he would trip the other, but stilled his body when Liu Tsong turned her attention to him. The noble forced a smile before letting it widen as darkness overtook the mountain. Even Wu Ying in his exhaustion noted the change in lighting.

  “Nooo…” Wu Ying whimpered. But he could not change the heavens. Not yet.

  As Wu Ying staggered to the back of the building, he finally saw the end of the journey. Standing at the kitchen, lips pursed, was a middle-aged man in dark robes and a simple headdress of the Elders. This must be Elder Huang that Liu Tsong had mentioned.

  “Elder,” Wu Ying greeted cordially.

  “Put the bags there. And what kind of foolishness is this, carrying nine bags?” Elder Huang said. “What cultivation level are you at?”

  “Body Cleansing 5,” Wu Ying answered as he dumped the bags aside.

  Kitchen workers quickly moved to help the exhausted Wu Ying, who slumped to the ground, his body burning. When he realized what he was doing in front of the Elder, Wu Ying attempted to stand.

  “Do not bother. It is obvious you have overdrawn your ability,” Elder Huang said with a sniff. “So you are one of Elder Cheng’s, are you?”

  “Yes, Elder. I am Long Wu Ying,” Wu Ying said as he bowed. A part of him trembled, wondering if it was Elder Huang who would inform Elder Cheng of his failure. After all, he had not reached the building in time. Or would Fairy Yang speak with him directly?

  “Interesting,” Elder Huang said.

  Before he could speak further, a boy ran up to Elder Huang with a bamboo slip.

  The Elder gave it a quick glance before he nodded. “You and three others have passed the test.”

  “Three?” Wu Ying said with a frown. Yin Xue was the only one who had been ahead of him.

  “Yes. The other two stumbled to the paifang just in time,” Elder Huang said. “Useless. Even when they carried less. It is a waste to let them stay, but I guess I have no choice or else Elder Lin will complain again.” The last was said with a mutter. Realizing Wu Ying was still there, Elder Huang pointed. “Wash yourself at the well then come inside. As you have just arrived, you will eat here for now. I am sure someone will show you the way.”

  Wu Ying smiled gratefully, though he found he could not even move to do as Elder Huang said.

  As the Elder turned away, he glanced back at Wu Ying. “Come back tomorrow morning. Since you like carrying bags so much, I will make use of you. We need to increase our stock with the new arrivals.”

  Once the Elder was gone, only then did Wu Ying let out a groan. More bags. His aching body was definitely going to hate him. Why had he had to carry all nine bags? It seemed that the Elder did not care.

  Muttering about the unfairness of it all, Wu Ying rolled onto his side and worked himself to his feet. He might as well get cleaned and fed. As he slowly made his way up, he noted one of the other’s who had started the journey with him just coming around the corner.

  Chapter 6

  Another day, another bag. Over the last two weeks, Wu Ying had spent every day from morning to evening running bags of rice, wheat, mung beans, and other sundries up the mountain. Once he had achieved the same timeframe as the other coolies, the dock supervisor had started loading Wu Ying with even more bags. When he protested, the cultivator had been informed that this was under orders of Elder Huang. At that point, all his objections faded away.

  After that evening when Wu Ying had basically crashed on the floor of the dining room, Senior Liu Tong had found him the next day and shown him to his quarters. That it was but a small room with barely space for the wooden bed and a wooden chest for his clothing was testament to how low he stood on the totem pole. Of course, to Wu Ying, that amount of space was more than sufficient—it might be a little smaller than the room he’d had at home, but not by much.

  From that day on, Wu Ying had been left to run errands for Elder Huang, with even less on-going guidance on his cultivation than when he was a villager. Admittedly, Wu Ying found that the guidance Elder Huang did provide was much more pointed and insightful, helping him reinforce his current cultivation significantly.

  Still, Wu Ying thought as he eyed the fading sunlight and trotted up the stairs, seven bags of vittles on his back, it would be nice to receive some form of formal guidance. As he passed another poor recruit, Wu Ying could not help but smile slightly at the exclamations of surprise when they caught sight of his burden.

  To Wu Ying’s surprise, the particular chore set by Fairy Yang had actually been part of the recruitment requirements. Conversations with his Seniors had enlightened Wu Ying further. Politics within the sect was even more convoluted than he had expected. Every Elder—every cultivator who had achieved a Core—could nominate up to three recruits for the sect. But because the actual number of slots available varied from year to year, the recruits were put through various tests. Luckily, this year, a higher-than-normal number of injuries and lazy or slow cultivators had been trimmed, leaving only a small number required to be cut. Elder Huang, as the least senior Elder, had been tasked with the work of cutting all those who did not meet the sect’s standards.

  “Hurry up. I don’t want to be late,” a new sect applicant said, his voice dripping with scorn. In front of him, a trio of coolies struggled under t
he added weight of the rice bags the noble had placed on their backs. Wu Ying idly wondered what he had paid the coolies – or even if he had. Few commoners would dare object to such a request from a cultivator.

  Wu Ying said nothing as he leap-frogged the group, keeping to his slow jog as he let his chi churn through his body. The sect’s standards were different than what he had expected. Cheating was expected, even encouraged to some degree. Each guide’s initial order to bring the bags up were worded vaguely enough that cultivators could—and did—find ways around it. After all, cultivation required not only discipline but insight, craftiness, and luck. So long as the cultivator managed to make his way to the sect with his bag, he passed. Well, so long as he did that and had a strong enough backer.

  “Wu Ying. Fifth load of the day. I expect you’ll be getting another bag tomorrow.” The gatekeeper chuckled.

  “Elder Lu. Please don’t joke about such things,” Wu Ying said as he slowed down and released his cultivation. Perhaps the greatest progress he had made was the speed with which he could shift from cultivating on the move to normal interactions.

  “Who is joking? Elder Huang is a real believer in hard work.” Seated cross-legged on his stool, the gatekeeper drew on his long pipe again.

  “This is for you, Elder,” Wu Ying said as he reached behind him and untied the bag. He handed the roll of tobacco to Xi Qi that he had been entrusted to carry from one of the ship’s captain. Xi Qi smiled upon receiving the package, stroking the wrapping like a lover.

  Once again, Wu Ying wondered about the gatekeeper. Even to his new senses, Wu Ying could tell that Xi Qi was more than a lazy old man. Yet he never cultivated and insisted on constantly polluting his body with smoke. But as Wu Ying was learning, everyone in the sect had their own secrets. And vices.